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AGADEZ…

“Stop, stop, stop, I’ll get down here! I’ve been describing where I’ll alight for a while, but since you have a gluey brain, you couldn’t understand. Is there anyone in all of Niger who doesn’t know Mallam Nura, the man with the sixtieth house?”

The motorcycle rider stopped and stared at her strangely.

She got down from the motorcycle, took out some money from her bag, and handed it to him.

He turned around, scoffing, and said, “What kind of thief are you? I’ve been going in circles with you, and you want to give me just five hundred naira?”

She gave him a piercing look and snatched her money back, saying:

“By God, you don’t deserve even that! You're insulting me by calling me a thief? You should be thanking God I even thought to give you five hundred!”

"Truly, this girl is just a goat!" the rider exclaimed, getting off his motorcycle.

Yumna burst into laughter and said, “Well done, Mr. Idiot! Now I’ll deal with you properly since you’re calling me a global thief!”

The commotion caught the attention of Mallam and his students. Anger rose in Mallam’s chest.

Yumna, being known for her sharp tongue, had already gone around town insulting people. She had taken a small amount of money that belonged to her aunt.

Hafizu, one of Mallam’s students, stepped forward and said to the rider, “Is everything okay, servant of God? I see you rolling up your sleeves...”

The rider replied, “Why wouldn’t I roll up my sleeves? I want to beat this girl! I’ve been riding her around the market, and now she wants to give me just five hundred!”

Hafizu warned, “Mind your own business and watch your mouth. I’ll have you cursed right now if you don’t stop.”

As the rider tried to slap Yumna, Hafizu blocked him. Mallam stood up and asked, “How much does she owe you?”

“One thousand naira,” the rider replied, frowning.

Quickly, Yumna covered her mouth and said, “Oh my God, he’s lying! Mallam, don’t give him anything!”

Mallam looked at her, and she fell silent, tightening her lips.

Mallam took out the money and handed it to the rider, who took it, mounted his motorcycle, and left.

Mallam turned to Yumna and said, “Yumna, calm down. Be careful. Learn from your peers—you don’t behave like them.”

She scratched her head and replied, “Insha’Allah, I will.”

He returned to his seat, as did Hafizu, and Yumna went inside.

It was a large mud house. She muttered, “May God punish our hypocrites—the end of the world is near.”

Baba Hadiza, who was washing dishes, looked up and said, “You never keep quiet, Yumna. Couldn’t you come in peacefully for once, without singing?”

Yumna scoffed and entered her room without a word. Soon, she came out with her phone to her ear, saying, “For God’s sake, yes, yes! I swear I’m coming too. In Prophet’s city, there’s always blessing. So you sent them to demolish your house? So the money was for nothing?”

She paused, listening, then burst into laughter, slapping her thigh. “Baba Hadizuwa!”

Baba Hadiza responded, “Yes, Yumna?”

Yumna hung up and sat down, crossing her legs. “Baba Hadiza, hmm... I’m going to Makkah too, to look for a better life. I won’t stay here and let poverty drag me down. I was born poor and grew up poor. For God’s sake, look at Mamman, the man who claims to love me—he has nothing to offer. Is this how our lives will end? No future?”

Baba Hadiza gasped. “Yumna! So now you want to become a street girl? Yumna, marriage is the proper cover for a woman. Try to obey your father. Please forget about this Makkah idea. If he hears about it, he’ll be furious!”

Yumna rolled her eyes at Baba Hadiza, stood up, and said, “As if I’ve completed the Qur’an? You should be happy I want to go and bring us some money. Look at what Na’ima sent—her house was demolished. Look where I sleep—me, Yumna, sleeping in mud! I’ll even get married there. I swear, I’m not meant for suffering.”

Shamsiya entered. “Yumna, so you're back? Let me tell Mamman. He’s been coming but can’t find you.”

Yumna frowned. “Shut your mouth, you talk too much! You swallowed a radio? You and Mamman? He’s not going to save me from poverty. I’m going to Makkah to make it in life.”

Shamsiya replied, “May God soften your heart.”

“You, my sister, are the one fuelling the fire in my heart. What do you mean 'God soften your heart'? You’re provoking me. Wallahi, Shamsiya, watch it—I don’t like fake sympathy.”

Baba Lami came out of her room. “Even the children in this house become lively when you’re gone. But once you’re back, you bully them. Are you okay, Yumna? Are you mentally stable?”

Yumna let out a loud scream, grabbed her belt and veil, collapsed to the ground, and began faking a demonic fit. “Wallahi, we won’t take this! Calling us mad? Today, we’ll show you madness times fifty! My father’s cousin, the one with epilepsy!”

Baba Lami swallowed hard—she hadn’t expected that Yumna might actually have jinn (a spirit). She turned to her friend. “Hadiza, do you mean Yumna is possessed by jinn?”

Yumna shouted, “You evil woman! Hypocrite! I warned Mallam—we are beyond him. If they don’t act fast, we’ll surpass even the teacher!”

“Please, for God’s sake, be patient,” someone pleaded. “I’m only with Yumna.”

Yumna screamed again. “If you’re with Yumna, then you’re with us too! Since she was a child, we’ve cared for her. And you, acting like the queen of manners—you think you’re better than us? We’ll knock some humility into you and see where your good manners go! You think you're so smart, giving advice?”

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