Mejo Najeeb Book 1 Compelet

Description

English Translation

She laughed and said, "May Allah increase it, that is your solution, and In sha Allah you are leaving this school then." Salma frowned and said, "Well, Abba said that when he comes back later, he will give me the money." Umma glared at her and said, "If he even finds any! You don't even pity your father. He struggles tirelessly, sweating and begging for work, yet you refuse to have some self-respect and look for money yourself." Salma pouted and muttered, "Even so, when I finish school and start working, I will build him a house and take him to Mecca," speaking with childlike innocence. Umma sneezed dismissively and said, "Let's see if a fart can blow up a fire! And In sha Allah he won't find any—such a hopeless case." Salma fell silent as tears streamed down her face.

"Get up, take off your clothes, and let me send you to Hajiya Jinjin’s house." Salma stood up just as someone greeted them from outside. She answered, and a few men walked in. Umma stood up, and Salma watched with wide eyes as her father was carried in like a child. They laid him down on the mat where Umma had been sitting. Salma ran over to him, crying, "Abba, what happened to you? What happened to your leg?"

"He was working upstairs, he fell, and his leg broke."

Salma burst into tears. Umma Rahmatu placed her hands on her head, crying, "Verily we belong to Allah and to Him we shall return, we are ruined!" One of the men shook his head and said, "Take heart. A bonesetter has already set it; we just pray to Allah to grant him recovery." With that, they turned and left the house. Salma just wept, looking at her Abba, whose eyes were closed, likely because he had been given an injection. She looked at Umma and said, "Umma, do you see this? Look at my Abba, Umma, we are ruined!" Umma glared at her and said, "All of this is your fault! If not for that cursed school of yours, he wouldn't have gone out this morning. You have destroyed us, I swear," she finished, wiping away her tears. Salma shook her head, crying...

Chapter 4: When Hope Fades

"No, Umma, this is destiny. This is what Allah wrote. If I had known that going out today would bring Abba this disaster, I swear I would have given up on school and stopped him from going out. But I cannot prevent what Allah has decreed..." Salma broke down into another round of weeping. Umma glared at her and said, "Shut your mouth, hypocrite! You must be happy now. Let's see which father you'll go back to school with—let's see!" She went back to sit beside Abba, looking at him as tears tracked down her face, while Umma stormed into her room, continuing to rant as if Salma were the one who had broken her leg.

Abacha Road, Mararaba 5:45 PM

It was a very nice compound containing two flats, both neat and modern. The house had a spacious compound with plenty of parking space. Its fence was high with a strong gate, providing security and prestige. Flowers and small trees surrounded the house, giving it a fresh and beautiful look. It was a well-put-together home, perfect for comfort and peace of mind.

She was sitting on the veranda, her eyes glued to her glasses, tapping gently on an Apple company laptop in front of her. Beside her was a glass cup filled with a milkshake, which she sipped slowly. The sound of a car horn made her look up. She was an older woman, probably under 50, light-skinned, a Fulani woman with tribal marks on the side of her face. Just looking at her, you could tell she was wealthy and affluent. She looked away and went back to what she was doing.

The car parked in the compound's parking space, and a young man stepped out. He was a handsome young Fulani man, not older than 34. Even without being told, you could instantly recognize that this woman was his mother. As he reached the veranda, he pulled up a chair facing her and sat down.

"Mami," he said, as if about to cry. She raised her head to look at him, then asked, "Al-ameen, you're back?" He nodded, trying to grab the cup in front of her. She glared at him and said, "Oh, was it yours to begin with?" He tilted his head after taking the cup, brought it to his lips, drank, and set it down with a smile, saying, "I was just so tired, I swear." She pouted slightly, looking at him as she said, "Get up and leave; you smell like medicine." He burst out laughing, which made her smile as she stood up, saying, "Does medicine even smell, Mami?"

She ignored him and went back to work. Without waiting for an answer, he headed toward the entrance of the house. He walked straight into his room, checked his wristwatch, and said, "Oh God!" shaking his head. By the edge of his luxury bed, he stripped off his suit and headed to the bathroom.

When the Maghrib call to prayer rang out, he came back downstairs from upstairs. He found Mami standing and arranging warmers on the dining table. She looked at him and asked, "Where are you going?" He smiled and said, "Mami, I'm going to the mosque, and from there I'll drop by Mubarak's house."

"Safe return," she said without looking at him. He nearly collided with Nayla, who was trying to push her way inside. He stepped back, saying, "When will you ever learn to be careful?"

"Tomorrow," she replied with a sassy tone. Al-ameen paid her no more mind and walked ahead. She gave him a glare, then walked into the parlor, calling out Mami's name.

Asokoro, Abuja

Later that night, around 8:00 PM, Mommah walked into the room and found Mommy talking with Mufeeda. Seeing her, Mommah said, "I actually thought you had forgotten." Mommy shook her head, sat on the sofa, and replied, "No, I swear, I just stayed back to finish up some work before coming out." Mommy nodded, looked at Mufeeda, and said, "Get up and go, we need to talk." "Okay," Mufeeda said, standing up and leaving the parlor.

Mommy adjusted her sitting position, looked at Mommah, and said, "I'm listening, Khadijah." Mommah sighed and said, "It's about Zayyad. I see he has grown now; it's about time we started discussing his marriage, maybe that will make him settle down." Mommy nodded, saying, "I had the same thought, but Allah just didn't give me the chance to bring it up to you. So, how do you think we should go about it?" Mommah paused for a few seconds before saying, "I was thinking maybe he could propose to Fatiha, Adda Maryam's daughter." Mommy paused, then asked, "Hajiya Maryam, your sister?" Mommah nodded. Mommy smiled and said, "That would be wonderful. Now, how do we bring them together?" Mommah smiled and said, "That won't be hard. If I tell Zayyad to go see her, he definitely will." Mommy nodded approvingly and said, "Alright then, let's do that. Find a time to talk to him about it." Mommah stood up, saying, "Alright, let me go find him right now."

"May Allah guide us to what is best."

"Ameen," Mommah replied as she walked out of the room.

Mommy stood up, went into her bedroom, picked up her phone, and dialed a number. It rang three times before being picked up. Annoyed, Mommy asked, "Where have you been?"

From the other end, a woman's voice replied, "Look at the senior wife in Colonel Idris's house—the soldier's wife. I swear I'm right here with Yallaɓai." Mommy paused, considering what to say. The woman spoke again, "Hello, Hajiya, are you hearing me?" Mommy let out a breath and said, "There is a problem, Hajiya. Things are on the verge of falling apart." In panic, the woman exclaimed, "Subhanallah, what has happened again?" Mommy shook her head and said, "This isn't something to discuss over the phone. Tomorrow, if Allah keeps us alive, I will come to your house so you can hear what is going on." The woman paused, then said, "May Allah bring us to tomorrow safely, I'll be here waiting." "Okay," Mommy said, and they said their goodbyes and hung up. She sat on the edge of her bed, deep in thought.

As Mommah walked out, she found Nayla trying to enter Zayyad's room.

"Are you going to go bug him again?"

Nayla pouted and said, "I swear, Mommah, I'm not going to bug him; I just want him to help me with my assignment."

"You guys know best," Mommah said, walking away.

Nayla pushed the door open and went in. The parlor was quiet with no sign of people, just the TV playing in the background. Nayla made a face, then headed toward his bedroom. She stopped dead in her tracks, stepped backward, and covered her nose. He was sitting on a chair, his eyes fixed on a marble coffee table holding a bottle of wine, a carton of cigarettes, and a shisha pipe which he was smoking slowly, letting out puffs of smoke. Nayla's entrance made him raise his eyes to look where she stood. Tears instantly washed over her face, and she shook her head, her hand covering her mouth. He pulled the shisha pipe from his mouth, turned it off, and stood up. Nayla quickly turned and left the room. He watched her go with his eyes, then headed to the bathroom.

He took a bath, came out, and fixed his hair so it shone. He dressed in a dark blue Burberry outfit, put on a Gucci bandana, and sprayed himself with an intoxicating perfume—Clive Christian No.1. Immediately, the room warmed with the fragrance. He walked over, cleared everything off the table, put them back where he usually kept them, and picked up his car keys and phone. Looking at him, you would never guess he had just been getting high; he looked quiet and gentle. He stopped in the corridor for a brief moment, then headed to the women's apartment.

He pushed the parlor door open after offering a soft greeting that was barely heard. She was sitting on the sofa, eyes glued to a laptop playing a game. She wore an oversized Gucci sweatshirt and Celine wide pants. Her shiny hair was parted neatly in the middle; she looked elegant. Seeing him, she closed the laptop, smiled, and said, "Welcome, Yaya."

He gave her a single glance and headed to Nayla's bedroom, asking, "How are you doing?" "Fine, Yaya," Mufeeda replied, shifting her focus back to what she was watching.

At the far end of the bed, he spotted Nayla curled up into a ball, her face buried between her knees, sobbing softly. He hesitated, stopped at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and watched her. For over 5 minutes, he stood there before walking slowly into the room. He sat by the bedside drawer, watching her, then reached out and lifted her face. Nayla jolted, scrambled off the bed, and shook her head. Zayyad stood up and looked at her, saying, "Lil sis."

"No, Yaya, I don't want this. Please leave, go away, for God's sake!" she cried out, weeping harder. He gave a slight smile, walked closer to her, and when she tried to back away, he grabbed her hand. Using his hand, he wiped away the tears covering her face and smiled, asking, "Are you running away from me? Are you telling me to leave, Nayla?" She shook her head, continuing to cry. He let go of her hand with a smile and said, "Anyway, see you later." With that, he turned and left the room. She sank down right where she stood, continuing to cry. Had his behavior really gone this far? And her own brother, right inside their house?

When Zayyad walked out, he headed to Daddy's section. He found him in the parlor talking to a soldier on the phone. He sat next to him and picked up the remote, switching the channel to Bollywood where the movie Mohenjodaro was playing.

After a few minutes, Dad looked at him, hung up the phone, and asked, "You're already out?" Zayyad nodded, set the remote down, turned to Dad, and said, "Dad, I want to go on a trip." Dad paused and asked, "Where to?" Zayyad smiled and said, "Maybe London. I swear I'm tired of staying here; I'm completely unhappy." Dad patted him on the shoulder and said, "Whatever you want, Zayyad, I won't pressure you. When you fix a date for the trip, let me know." He felt very happy inside, which was why he preferred talking to Dad over anyone else; Dad always supported him, and there was never a time he wanted something and was denied. He stood up and said, "Alright, I'll let you know how things go. I'm stepping out for a bit." Dad nodded, looking at him with love and affection, and said, "Alright, safe journey." Zayyad walked out of the suite, walking with pride and swagger.

Wuse 2, Abuja

She was lying on the bed typing on her phone when she heard a knock on the bedroom door. "Yes, come in," she said without looking up.

The door opened, and two young women walked in. Hearing their voices made her sit up and look at them with her mouth open. She was wearing a Dior blouse and a Chanel tweed skirt, her hair tied back with an Hermes scarf. She looked stunning, and though she wore no makeup, she had eyeliner on her eyes and lip gloss on her lips.

Khairiyya glared at her and asked, "Why are you staring at us?" Aneeserh smiled slightly, looked at Hibba who was standing, and said, "Have a seat, babe." Hibba shot her a dirty look and said, "Do I only sit when you tell me to?" Aneeserh burst out laughing and said, "Well, you can just keep standing then!" She turned to Khairiyya and said, "I thought you were joking." Khairiyya replied, "No, we were serious. We went to Transcorp since yesterday; we would have come in earlier, but we changed our minds wondering if Dad was around." Aneeserh smiled and said, "You scaredy-cats! What was he going to do to you anyway? He's not even around." Khairiyya shook her head and said, "No, what do you mean 'what would he do'? You know how he is." Aneeserh stood up, saying, "You worry too much," and walked over to the fridge. She grabbed two cold cokes and some cups, set them on the floor, went back to the bed, crossed her legs, and looked at Hibba. "Big girls, Hibba, I see you're filling out. What's the secret?"

Hibba smiled faintly and said, "You're my problem. What do you mean 'filling out'?" "She means she noticed you've changed," Khairiyya chimed in, struggling to open her coke. Hibba glared at her and said, "Well, even I don't know." Aneeserh laughed and said, "Fine, let it ferment then!"

"It won't. By the way, Aneeserh, where is Zayyad?" Hibba asked, looking at her. Aneeserh, busy typing on her phone, replied, "He's around." Hibba added, "Such an arrogant, proud guy." Aneeserh put her phone down, looked at Hibba, and said, "Hold on. What arrogance did he show you? Look, Hibba, I don't like anyone touching my man; my temper will flare." They both burst out laughing together. Khairiyya said, "Your man? Just your life partner, you mean." Aneeserh retorted, "Like how? I don't get it."

"Aneeserh, what don't you get? I said he's your life partner, not your husband, because he might not even marry you." Aneeserh shot her a fierce look and said, "Is that what he told you? Well, listen here: Zayyad is my husband-to-be. If I'm getting married, it's Zayyad I'm marrying." Hibba nodded and said, "That's our prayer for you too, may Allah make him marry you."

"It's as good as him marrying me already."

Khairiyya opened her mouth to speak when Aneeserh's phone started ringing. She picked it up, smiled, and put it to her ear.

"I'm outside, waiting for you," she heard his voice say. She exhaled and said, "Okay, I'm coming down." With that, she hung up. She looked at Khairiyya and stood up from the bed, saying, "Well, my boyfriend is here and I'm going with him. If you guys are sleeping over..."

Hibba glared at her and said, "Since you're the only one with a boyfriend who comes to pick you up, right?" Aneeserh shrugged, saying, "If you say so."

In just a few minutes, she finished getting dressed in a long gown that stopped at her knees. She fixed her shiny hair, picked up her phone, looked at them, and spun around, asking, "How do I look?" Hibba smiled and said, "You look stunning, girl, like a totally different person." Aneeserh was thrilled to hear their praise, knowing her Zayyad would praise her just as much when she stepped out.

When they came downstairs, the massive parlor was empty, so they headed straight out the gate. At the gate, she spotted his Lexus jeep, and she walked toward it with a sway in her hips. She opened the front seat, got in, and looked at him, saying coyly, "Sorry, Bae, I kept you waiting." He smiled and said, "You look nice." Aneeserh laughed, saying, "Thank you, where are we going?"

"Transcorp," he said as he started the ignition.

****On a Saturday evening, they were sitting in the parlor chatting when he walked in. Nayla stood up and left the parlor without looking at him. Mommy smiled, looked at him, and asked, "What did you and our little lady fight about this time?" He shook his head, sat on the sofa, and said, "Nothing, just her childishness." Mommy said, "Nayla is a bundle of trouble; she's still the lastborn, she hasn't outgrown it." Mufeeda, sitting on a chair typing on her phone, said, "I swear, Yaya, Nayla is heartbroken. Every single day she cries until late at night and can't sleep."

Zayyad stayed quiet and said nothing. Mommy looked at him, then at Mufeeda, and asked, "But did you ask her what was done to her? Is someone upsetting her at school?" Mufeeda shook her head and said, "Nobody is upsetting her at school. She knows what's bothering her, and I told her I'll tell Daddy when he gets back from Paris."

Zayyad stood up and left the parlor, and they watched him go. He walked straight into Nayla's apartment, opened her room, but she wasn't inside. He walked out and entered Mommah's apartment. He spotted her sitting on the sofa with a handout in her hand, studying. He let out a sigh and walked further in. He sat on the sofa, and she quickly stood up, gathered her papers, and prepared to leave.

"Nayla," Zayyad called out in a stern voice. She stopped dead in her tracks but didn't turn around. He stood up, walked right in front of her, turned her face to look at him, and she immediately threw herself into his arms, bursting into tears. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, patting her head until she quieted down. Then he lifted her chin, wiped away her tears, and said, "I'm sorry."

Sobbing softly, she said, "Please, Yaya, stop it. I swear it's totally haram, please stop, you hear me?" He exhaled, still looking at her, and said, "Alright, come with me." She held out her hand, saying, "Then promise me you won't do it again." He fixed his doe eyes on her and asked, "Then you don't trust me?" She shook her head. "Alright, let's go."

"What are you two talking about that can't be overheard?" they heard Mommah's voice ask. Nayla turned around and said, "I asked him to buy me chocolate and he forgot, Mommah." Mommah scoffed, saying, "I see." She looked at Zayyad, who was standing there, and said, "Zayyad, I want to talk to you."

"Okay Mommah, let me go and come back." "Go where?" she asked, pinning him with her gaze. He sat back down with a smile and said, "I repent." She glared at him, then sat down, looked at Nayla, and said, "Madam, be on your way." Nayla pouted and walked out of the room.

Mommah adjusted her seat, looked at him, and said, "I actually wanted to talk to you about your marriage, because it seems like that's never on your mind." He tilted his head and said, "Mommah, marriage? When did I grow up enough to leave you guys?" Mommah stared at him with her mouth open before saying, "Zayyad, you are testing my patience. If you don't marry now, when will you ever be ready? People your age all have families, but you just sit around playing foolish games. Let me tell you this: before your father returns, you better bring out a wife. If you don't, I will choose one for you!"

Zayyad stayed quiet, watching her, seeing how serious she was. She continued, "And you know Adda Maryam is sick; I didn't hear you say you were going to visit her." Zayyad replied, "Ah, Ahmad and I talked about it. Maybe tomorrow I'll go, In sha Allah. I just hate entering that town, the traffic is too much, I swear." She glared at him and said, "Then forget about going, you hear? Ahmad travels from there every single day and doesn't complain, but you..."

"But Mommah, he's used to living there. The whole city is overcrowded for him. A twenty-minute drive takes an hour if you're unlucky, people are suffering." Mommah stood up, saying, "Oh, listen to the one who isn't suffering!"

Zayyad laughed, stood up as well, and asked, "Are we going together?" She shook her head and said, "No, I went already. But if you're going, take Nayla with you so she can see Fatiha." "Okay," he said, turning to walk out, while she returned to the kitchen to continue what she was doing.

Kabayi, Mararaba

She walked into the house with greetings, holding a large cooler. She was wearing a coffee-coloured Abba-fabric hijab that stopped at her knees, layered over a long black gown. She spotted him sitting on a mat, walked right up to him, looked at him, and asked, "How are you, Abba? How is your leg?"

Instead of answering her, she saw tears welling up in his eyes. Salma panicked, filled with anxiety, and asked, "Abba, what happened? Is it the leg? Please be patient, Abba," she finished, tears streaming down her face. Malam Habu just looked at her, tears still flowing from his eyes. She shook her head and said, "Please, Abba, have patience, Allah will relieve this."

He raised his finger, wiped the tears from his eyes, and spoke in a soft voice: "Ummusalma, I am not crying because Allah has tested me. No, I am crying because I have failed as a father. I have failed. I couldn't protect your life, to the point where you still go out hawking just to find us something to eat. Ummusalma, what kind of father am I? I truly don't deserve to be a father, I have failed!"

Salma began to shake her head, crying as she said, "Please stop saying things like that, Abba! You are truly a father that every daughter prays to have. You stood by me and fought to protect my dignity, all..."

Summary

In Chapter 4 of Haskan Cikin Duhu ("Light in the Darkness") by Nanameera, the stark contrasts of life unfold across different social strata in Nigeria.

The story opens with heartbreaking realism in a struggling household. Salma is trying to balance her aspirations for education with her family's crushing poverty. Her mother, Umma, constantly berates Salma's father, Malam Habu, for his financial struggles and views Salma's schooling as a burden. Tragedy strikes when Malam Habu suffers a severe workplace accident—falling from a height while working—resulting in a broken leg. When he is brought home, Umma immediately blames Salma's schooling for forcing him out to work in the first place, leaving Salma devastated and guilt-ridden. When Malam Habu wakes up, he breaks down in tears, consumed by guilt that he has failed as a provider and forced his daughter into hawking.

Meanwhile, the narrative shifts to the wealthy and affluent lifestyles in Mararaba and Asokoro, Abuja. We are introduced to Al-ameen and his mother (Mami), as well as Zayyad—a young man leading a hidden life of substance abuse (smoking, shisha, and drinking) behind a polished, gentle exterior. Zayyad's family is planning his marriage to Fatiha (Adda Maryam's daughter) to steer him toward responsibility, while his younger sister, Nayla, struggles with deep emotional distress and discomfort over witnessing her brother's secret vices. The chapter weaves together themes of parental sacrifice, the heavy burden of poverty versus unchecked wealth, family pressure, and moral decay.

Description of Characters

• Salma (Ummusalma): A determined, hopeful young girl striving to get an education against all odds. She dreams of lifting her family out of poverty, building her father a house, and taking him to Mecca, but she is constantly weighed down by her mother's harshness and her family's destitution.
• Malam Habu (Abba): Salma's hardworking, loving, and deeply self-conscious father. He pushes himself to the limit to provide for his family and suffers a career-ending/disabling injury, leading to a crushing sense of paternal failure.
• Umma Rahmatu: Salma's harsh, frustrated, and bitter mother. Weary of poverty, she vents her anger aggressively on both Salma and her husband, lacking empathy for their struggles.
• Zayyad: A wealthy, handsome, yet deeply troubled young man living a double life. Outwardly charming and gentle, he secretly struggles with drug and substance abuse (alcohol, cigarettes, shisha) in his room, though he holds a soft spot for his younger sister, Nayla.
• Nayla: Zayyad's younger sister who is sensitive, easily distressed, and traumatized by discovering her older brother's secret vices.
• Mami / Mommy / Mommah: Figures within the upper-class households representing the matriarchal authority, societal expectations, matchmaking efforts, and elite lifestyles in Abuja.
• Aneeserh & Hibba: Upper-class young women moving in elite Abuja circles, preoccupied with social outings, boyfriends (such as Zayyad), and modern urban life.

Analytics & Thematic Analysis

• Socio-Economic Contrast (Class Divide): The text utilizes a classic dual-narrative structure. It juxtaposes the extreme, grinding poverty of Salma's family (where a broken leg and a lack of daily meal money spell total catastrophe) with the insulated, ultra-luxurious lifestyle of Abuja's elite (expensive cars like Lexus jeeps, upscale modern flats in Asokoro, high-end perfumes like Clive Christian, and leisurely outings to Transcorp Hilton).
• The Burden of Poverty vs. Parental Guilt: Malam Habu's breakdown highlights the psychological toll of poverty on traditional African patriarchs. His tears are not just from physical pain, but from the societal expectation of being a provider—feeling that allowing his daughter to hawk or work strips away his dignity.
• Toxic Familial Dynamics: Umma’s verbal abuse toward Salma and her lack of compassion for her injured husband showcase how poverty can erode empathy within a household, turning family members against each other out of sheer frustration.
• The Facade of Wealth and Hidden Vices: Zayyad represents the archetype of privileged youth succumbing to quiet hedonism and substance abuse despite having everything handed to them on a silver platter. His contrast between a polished public demeanor and a self-destructive private space underscores themes of moral decay in affluent settings.
• Gender Roles and Societal Expectations: Marriage, family reputation, and educational aspirations are central driving forces. The elders (Momma, Mommy) actively scheme to use marriage as a "rehabilitation" tool for wayward youth like Zayyad, while young women navigate romantic politics and family loyalties.