Auran Wahala Ko Saki Complete

I was lying on the long sofa in the living room, pressing my phone happily because today we shared my wedding fabric (aso-ebi) in our class group. I sent the fabric there and they kept praising it, mixed with teasing, calling me “Mubash’s bride.”

They were like, “Hey, this fabric is expensive o! Just the dinner fabric alone will cost about ₦12,000, not even counting the sewing cost.”

I smiled and told them to take it easy, that I don’t even have anyone I’ll sew it for. Immediately they started saying, “No no, we’ll sew it for Mubash’s bride, we must enjoy this wedding.”

Honestly, I feel so happy whenever they call me by that name.

Just then I heard my mother calling me from the corridor. I quickly replied and turned off my data, then placed my precious phone down — the iPhone 8 Plus Mubash bought for me. I stood up calmly and walked into my mother’s room, where I met her and my co-wife. Their heads were together, no jealousy at all. I smiled because I love seeing them together.

I found a place to sit and said,

“Mum, we’re here.”

She looked at me, then looked at her friend and said,

“Mother of children, please look at this girl — this unnecessary slimness brides do, she hasn’t even done it properly! If she’s not going to be slim, she should just add weight!”

Mummy smiled, then looked at me and clicked her tongue, examining me with her eyes, then said,

“Auta, see your mum here — she wants you to be slim like a skeleton. Mubash’s style suits you better like this. It’s better you add weight, you hear? I’m going to give you your kazan (special meat soup) today since you didn’t drink it yesterday.”

I smiled and replied,

“Okay.”

Mum then looked at me and said,

“Aymanah! Mubash’s mother called earlier. She said tomorrow they’re on their way to bring the bridal boxes. Inform your rich friends to come and watch, including the in-laws, okay?”

Shyly, I said,

“Okay, Mum.”

I stood up and followed Mummy to her room. She took the jug from the fridge, poured the soup into a cup for me and said,

“Aymanah, hurry up and finish it. The meat soup is waiting for you there. Come and eat it in front of me so I can be watching you.”

I pouted because honestly, I don’t like that meat soup at all. Whatever they put inside it makes me nauseous, so I really hate eating it. But Mummy and the others always force me — I must drink the soup and eat the meat before they leave me alone. 😞

I said,

“Mummy, please, how long will I continue eating this soup? It doesn’t taste good at all.”

Mummy widened her eyes and said,

“Listen to this child! This is something you must eat, even after marriage. And you’re asking when you’ll stop eating it? The thing you keep saying you don’t like is what they say you should feed your husband with so he’ll be jumping! 🙄 So hurry up, go and eat it in front of me before I deal with you.”

I made a sulky face and said,

“Mummy, you said ‘make my husband jump’! Yooo… Mubash won’t jump for me, so I won’t eat it again since you’ve explained what it’s for.”

Mummy gasped, started praying, then looked at me and said,

**“Oh God! Aymanah, it’s like we didn’t raise you in the city. Even a village girl wouldn’t say this, let alone you — a city girl, educated and Islamic — saying you don’t want your husband to ‘jump’ for you. 🙄 So what do you want him to do? Dance? Disco?

Do you want to hear him crying when another woman gives birth and co-wives line up in the house?”**

Mum added the last part while sitting beside Mummy, who was already laughing hard. They’re used to my drama; I behave like a clown 😂.

My eyes widened when they mentioned co-wife, because I, Aymanah, am not good with jealousy and I hate the idea of a co-wife with my whole life.

“Mum, did you say co-wife?”

“Yes, since you don’t want to eat this soup that keeps your husband feeling fresh like a new phone in nylon.”

I didn’t understand her proverb, so I asked,

“So Mum, if I eat it, Mubash won’t marry another wife?”

“Exactly, Aymanah. You won’t have a co-wife — just enjoy your blessings.”

As Mummy said that, I laughed, stood up quickly, grabbed the soup, opened it and started eating it seriously, even licking the bowl. Mummy and Mum just kept laughing at me.

That’s it… please share.

Ayshkhair 💗

AUREN WAHALA KO SAKI?!

(Marriage: Suffering or Divorce?!)

(A fictional story)

Written by Ayshkhair 💗

Pages 4–6

Marwa’s entrance interrupted their laughter as she looked at me and said,

“Some things are only for Mubash’s bride’s wedding day.”

I bent my head over the soup bowl, looked at Marwa, twisted my lips and said,

“Mind your business. If you’re jealous, go and find your own husband.” 🤨

I raised and lowered my brows teasingly. Marwa smiled and said,

**“No o, we’re not in a hurry like you. We’ll finish university first and stay a bit before finding husbands. Look at you — level 1 law student among thousands, still making first class, even beating boys. You’re already good to go for marriage. Even if it’s not love marriage, they’ll force one on you.

But us that are struggling with second class lower in literature department, what do we say? We can’t even compare ourselves with Mubash’s secret bride!”** 😂

Marwa said it honestly and ended it laughing, removing her Islamic hijab and putting it in the wardrobe. Mum and Mummy were laughing again — they’re used to our drama.

I twisted my lips again and said,

“Mummy, please tell her I don’t like teasing.” 😫

Mummy replied,

“Marwa, leave my sight before I close my eyes.”

Mum pulled Marwa’s hand, sat her down and said,

“Mother of children, leave them alone. If not, we’ll report to Big Brother.”

We all laughed. Mum then asked,

“Marwa, why can’t I hear the children’s noise?”

Marwa replied,

“Aww Mum, Brother Marwan took them out. They didn’t even remove their uniforms — he put them straight in the car and took them for ice cream.”

“Ah! Marwan, that rascal, spoiling children with roaming,” Mum said.

Mummy replied,

“But I’ve noticed Marwan really loves children.”

I looked at Marwa and said,

“Then why didn’t you follow them and bring our share? You black-belt thief.”

Marwa ran at me and I jumped up, we started chasing each other. Mummy shouted,

“Auta, do you want all our preparations to scatter? Stop running and leave Marwa alone!”

Mum stood up and said,

“Let’s leave them, otherwise we’ll sleep here. Let me go check what the cooks are preparing.”

Mummy laughed and said let’s go. They walked into the big luxurious kitchen where about five workers were busy cooking. Mum and Mummy started inspecting the food.

Who is Aymanah?

The Origin of the Story

Alhaji Mubin Aliyu Lere is a native of Lere. His parents had only two children: him and his sister Azma. They were originally Lebanese; both parents were from there, but circumstances brought them to Nigeria, settling in Lere village.

Alhaji Mubin and his sister Azma were very beautiful. Sadly, their father died when they were just three years old. Their mother raised them alone, ensuring good upbringing and education. Azma married early — she married the chairman of their local government, who later became the Minister of Petroleum. They moved to Abuja.

Wealth followed them. Azma sponsored her mother and brother for Hajj. After returning, Azma bought them a house in Kaduna and secured admission for her brother in Sudan, where he studied Business Administration. She also hired house helpers for their mother.

Years passed; Azma had been married for five years without children. Later, Mubin completed school, did NYSC, and Azma gave him capital to start trading in gold.

By Allah’s will, Mubin succeeded greatly, traveling to different countries to buy gold. In Ethiopia, he met Asma’ul Husnah. They fell in love, married, and returned to Nigeria, living with their mother in Kaduna.

Azma later became pregnant after five months and delivered a handsome baby boy named Aliyu Hydar, nicknamed Hydar. Their mother loved her grandson deeply.

After Mubin built a house in Gombe, where his business thrived, he moved there with his wife. After five years of marriage, Asma’u still had no children. Meanwhile, Azma now had three children — the second birth was twin girls, Intisar and Imtinan.

Asma’u pressured Mubin to marry another wife. He initially refused, reminding her that his sister waited six years before giving birth. But Asma’u insisted and threatened to return to her village. Eventually, Mubin agreed and married Khadija from Adamawa.

After nine months, both wives gave birth on the same day — both to boys.

Asma’u’s son was named Fahad, Khadija’s Farid.

Peace reigned in Mubin’s home. Today, Asma’u has five children:

Fahad, Salim, Ameena, Marwan, and Aymanah.

Khadija has seven:

Farid, Salima, Aminu, Zubaida, Marwa, Ayman, and Hanan.

Most are married and living in different states, but they often return to Gombe during holidays, so the house is always full.