Amina grinned and walked around coolly. Unquestionably, she was anything but an outsider to the elderly person. She moved directly to Hajiya’s work area and gave her a peck on the cheek. This made the lady glad. She had constantly supported Amina directly from youth. Amina’s mom had been a decent lady, and everybody in Dafaloved her. Tragically, her significant other’s mentality had changed since her demise.

Quickly, Amina dropped her image on the work area.

“I need to be in the inventories, at the earliest opportunity.” Amina bit her lip and maintained a strategic distance from the old woman’s infiltrating look.

Hajiya grinned, “I won’t request the reason you’re doing this. I’ll ensure you end up with a decent man, okay?” She waved a finger over Amina’s face.

“A debt of gratitude is in order for helping me Hajiya. I don’t have a clue what I’d manage without you.” Amina felt mitigated. She couldn’t hold on to escape Dafa. Hajiya was cheerful that she could help.

A dim haired man inclined toward the rails that kept the ponies from leaving the animal dwellingplace. He endeavored to dispose of the desensitizing torment by gazing at his creatures. For his entire life, he had buckled down to make a name in the farming business, and he had. Mallam Abdul’s farm was the biggest Ranch in Kanem Dazau. His solitary lament and torment was that the spouse of his childhood, Fatma had two years back. They had battled together, and fabricated the farm from the residue.

Presently she was no more, and his reality had been dove into dimness. Three years after Fatma’s takeoff from a concise sickness, Abdul had thought that it was hard to proceed onward. Notwithstanding the assistance of his committed laborers, the farm would have fallen. He had gone into his shell, and wouldn’t address anybody. He was presently a sad remnant of his old self.


While gazing at the ponies, and tuning in to the call of the breeze, a sharp voice intruded on his snapshot of isolation. It was the voice of Hazim, one of his cattle rustlers.

“Abdul!” Hazim surged forward with a paper in his grasp.

Hazim had been his most established buddy on the farm. Directly from the earliest starting point, Ander had dependably been close by. He was second in order.

“I got something for you.” Hazim drew nearer.

“Leave Hazim, we’ll talk later.” Abdul protested.

“No, this is essential. You should see it.” Hazim offered Abdul the paper.

Abdul whirled round and got it from him. He unrolled the paper and looked at it. The wrinkles on his brow met up in a grimace and he sneered.

“A match made lady of the hour?” He sneered.

“Fatma has been away for a really long time. You ought to consider having another lady close by.” Hazim answered.

Abdul scowled at the delightful picture. She was youthful and brimming with life. Her eyes had fire in them. Without precedent for a long time, he saw a lady who was unquestionably more appealing than Fatma, to grab his eye.

“Should I send for her?” Hazim positioned his head to the other side.

“Amina Tukur from Dafa. She isn’t Fulani however a Shuwa. This clarifies her exceptional looks.” Abdul’s heart skipped. Might it be able to be the equivalent Tukur that double-crossed him numerous years back?” He chose to trust in his companion.

Hazimr got the paper from him and gazed at the young lady.

“I figure this could be Mallam Tukur’s little girl.”

Abdul laughed delicately; perhaps the time had come to apply retribution of the double crosser after such a significant number of years.


“Pay for her, she will be my lady of the hour. Through her, Mallam Tukur would be pushed to the edge of total collapse.” He murmured before leaving the horse shelter.

Hazim recollected the dairy cattle war at the Dafa Valley. He had a wiped out sentiment of bringing a guiltless young lady into this amusement. In any case, he had no real option except to send for her as Abdul had instructed.

He had been there, when Mallam Tukur had schemed with the eager Idris to take Abdul’s touching part. Hazim trusted that the lady in the image wasn’t in any case identified with Tukur.

“The marriage would be a calamity.”

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Back at Dafa, Amina was getting apprehensive. Hajiya was yet to give her input after her accommodation, and she had just two weeks left before the arrival of Mallam Idris. She lived in tumult for a long time, yet her feelings of dread arrived at an end one radiant Tuesday evening.

Amina had gone to the neighborhood market to offer her dad’s products not surprisingly. While approaching purchasers to look at the ranch produce, a young man hurried towards her and hurled a paper on her lap.

“Abu! Pause… .” Amina got the paper and rose to her feet.

“Hajya requested that I bring you. Presently please!” The young man hurried through the lanes of the market square. Amina’s heart jumped with euphoria and desire as she frowned at the filthy dark colored paper in her grasp.

This was it; she was at long last leaving Dafa to begin another life. She at long last had the opportunity that she required. Decisively, Amina got the paper and rushed after the young man. It wouldn’t have been long until she jumped on the train to where her better half would be.


“Salam! You sent for me.” Amina walked into the workplace.

The old woman, who’d been caught up with perusing her Quran, dropped the Holy book and glared up at her guest.

“Did you read the paper by any means?” She laughed as she noticed the appearance of fervor on Amina’s pretty face.

Amina shook her head, “I just couldn’t hold on to see you.”

“Open it,” Hajiya pointed at the paper, and Amina tranquilly complied.

One Mallam. Hazim Isram had paid for her. From the swoon picture out of sight, she could tell he was certifiably not an attractive man. He wore his hair long, and he had a screwy nose. The man was presumably in his mid forties.

“Don’t you like him? He paid liberally for you.” Hajiya hauled out a handbag and demonstrated Amina some cash.

She wasn’t excited about gathering Mallam Hazim Isram her significant other. Be that as it may, the possibility of escaping Dafa and maintaining a strategic distance from a marriage of accommodation with Mallam Idris fulfilled her.

“He is certainly not an extremely fine man Hajiya.” She collapsed the paper and grinned.

The elderly person burst into a giggling that was popping to the ears.

“You have a lot to learn kid. What is important in adoration isn’t about a man’s looks, yet the manner in which he treats you.”