An old man was squatting, staring at two young girls — one around twenty-two years old, and the younger one around seventeen. By the side stood a young man who was obviously the eldest among them, while their mother wiped tears with the edge of her veil.
“Hajara, will you never obey your father in this life? Even though we don’t have wealth, he is doing everything within his power to make your lives better. He has done everything a good father should do to improve his children’s lives.”
With complete disrespect and boldness she replied,
“So because of God, I should be the one to marry that cripple? Me? Just because his father sees us as poor, he sweet-talked you into giving him your daughter? Wallahi I will not marry him!”
In a soft and pleading voice he said,
“Haba Ummi… can’t you help me, so I don’t end up disgraced? You know everything you and your siblings have achieved in life came through that servant of Allah—even though we have no blood relation. He sponsored all of your education. Look, your brother is serving the nation, you’re in 200 level, and your sister is in her final year in secondary school. Wallahi Ummi, if I don’t wipe the tears of this man, then I’m ungrateful.”
She replied angrily,
“Wallahi Baba, since God destined us to study, we would have studied with or without his help. I will not marry him. Apologize to him and tell him to look elsewhere.”
Her younger sister, who had been watching her misbehave, said,
“Subhanallah, yaya Hajara, you see Baba crying for your sake so he can secure your future, but Shaytan has whispered arrogance into your heart?”
Hajara lifted her hand to slap her, but their brother — furious — warned,
“Wallahi if not that Baba said I shouldn’t touch you, I would have crippled you. You’re the one calling someone crippled? Hajara, be careful! This is life. You’re a poor man’s daughter, yet your ego is bigger than your life.”
She fired back,
“Wallahi, if you touch me, I will command them to deal with you. Malam, can’t you see your beloved daughter? The one you suffered for all your life, hmm?”
The old man, despite everything, still spoke calmly.
“Rahama, help me talk to your sister. Go inside. May Allah bless your lives.”
Fuuuu—Hajara got up angrily and stormed into their small room in the middle of the house.
Her younger sister turned to their father.
“Baba, don’t worry. She will accept, Insha Allah. I’ll keep talking to her.”
“Toh Rahama… may Allah bless you.”
“Ameen,” she replied and entered the room.
The father then turned to his son, who had been silent but clearly boiling inside.
“My son, warrior of the house… please be patient with your sister. Be a father, be a man who protects his family. You are the eldest; you are their guardian. Even after I’m gone, you will be the pillar of this home. Go now, may Allah bless you.”
Tears of pity for his father filled his eyes. Seeing how this man had struggled for them all his life, he wished he were a woman so he could marry the suitor himself and shield his father from pain. He stood and walked out of the house without a word — praying silently that his father would deal with Hajara when he got home.
Their mother also rose to leave, but he held her back.
“Sit, woman of Paradise… my righteous wife.”
She sat, for she never argued with him.
Wiping the rest of her tears, she said,
“Malam, you worry too much.”
He chuckled softly.
“You want me to carry life on my head? Help me pray for them. Don’t you see the danger her stubbornness can bring? I don’t want her to think I want to force her into marriage. I want her to accept willingly, so I can have peace after the marriage. If we force her, what will we gain? She may even fall into danger.”
“Malam, you’ve spoken about his illness many times… what exactly is wrong with him?”
“Larai, our religion forbids excessive investigation. The boy’s father once told me he had complications at birth and was taken abroad. He has never fully recovered. His younger brother is married with two children already — only he remains unmarried because of his condition.”
“He begged me for the first time ever,” he continued. “He said, ‘Malam Bala, I beg you… give me your eldest daughter. I know she is wise enough to live with him.’ I cannot refuse the one man who never refused me.”
“You’re right,” she said. “Alhaji Shu’aibu is a generous and honorable man.”
“So help me plead with our daughter,” he concluded with a smile.
An old man was squatting, staring at two young girls — one around twenty-two years old, and the younger one around seventeen. By the side stood a young man who was obviously the eldest among them, while their mother wiped tears with the edge of her veil.
“Hajara, will you never obey your father in this life? Even though we don’t have wealth, he is doing everything within his power to make your lives better. He has done everything a good father should do to improve his children’s lives.”
With complete disrespect and boldness she replied,
“So because of God, I should be the one to marry that cripple? Me? Just because his father sees us as poor, he sweet-talked you into giving him your daughter? Wallahi I will not marry him!”
In a soft and pleading voice he said,
“Haba Ummi… can’t you help me, so I don’t end up disgraced? You know everything you and your siblings have achieved in life came through that servant of Allah—even though we have no blood relation. He sponsored all of your education. Look, your brother is serving the nation, you’re in 200 level, and your sister is in her final year in secondary school. Wallahi Ummi, if I don’t wipe the tears of this man, then I’m ungrateful.”
She replied angrily,
“Wallahi Baba, since God destined us to study, we would have studied with or without his help. I will not marry him. Apologize to him and tell him to look elsewhere.”
Her younger sister, who had been watching her misbehave, said,
“Subhanallah, yaya Hajara, you see Baba crying for your sake so he can secure your future, but Shaytan has whispered arrogance into your heart?”
Hajara lifted her hand to slap her, but their brother — furious — warned,
“Wallahi if not that Baba said I shouldn’t touch you, I would have crippled you. You’re the one calling someone crippled? Hajara, be careful! This is life. You’re a poor man’s daughter, yet your ego is bigger than your life.”
She fired back,
“Wallahi, if you touch me, I will command them to deal with you. Malam, can’t you see your beloved daughter? The one you suffered for all your life, hmm?”
The old man, despite everything, still spoke calmly.
“Rahama, help me talk to your sister. Go inside. May Allah bless your lives.”
Fuuuu—Hajara got up angrily and stormed into their small room in the middle of the house.
Her younger sister turned to their father.
“Baba, don’t worry. She will accept, Insha Allah. I’ll keep talking to her.”
“Toh Rahama… may Allah bless you.”
“Ameen,” she replied and entered the room.
The father then turned to his son, who had been silent but clearly boiling inside.
“My son, warrior of the house… please be patient with your sister. Be a father, be a man who protects his family. You are the eldest; you are their guardian. Even after I’m gone, you will be the pillar of this home. Go now, may Allah bless you.”
Tears of pity for his father filled his eyes. Seeing how this man had struggled for them all his life, he wished he were a woman so he could marry the suitor himself and shield his father from pain. He stood and walked out of the house without a word — praying silently that his father would deal with Hajara when he got home.
Their mother also rose to leave, but he held her back.
“Sit, woman of Paradise… my righteous wife.”
She sat, for she never argued with him.
Wiping the rest of her tears, she said,
“Malam, you worry too much.”
He chuckled softly.
“You want me to carry life on my head? Help me pray for them. Don’t you see the danger her stubbornness can bring? I don’t want her to think I want to force her into marriage. I want her to accept willingly, so I can have peace after the marriage. If we force her, what will we gain? She may even fall into danger.”
“Malam, you’ve spoken about his illness many times… what exactly is wrong with him?”
“Larai, our religion forbids excessive investigation. The boy’s father once told me he had complications at birth and was taken abroad. He has never fully recovered. His younger brother is married with two children already — only he remains unmarried because of his condition.”
“He begged me for the first time ever,” he continued. “He said, ‘Malam Bala, I beg you… give me your eldest daughter. I know she is wise enough to live with him.’ I cannot refuse the one man who never refused me.”
“You’re right,” she said. “Alhaji Shu’aibu is a generous and honorable man.”
“So help me plead with our daughter,” he concluded with a smile.
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