Filled with exhaustion, he walked until he entered their house and found his mother seated, engaged in her litanies. He went closer and sat beside her quietly, his heart heavy with pain, and said,
“Ayiyah, welcome home.”
She looked at him with deep compassion, as if she was about to cry, and said,
“Yaye, you’re back? I hope you’re well, Yaye.”
He nodded and replied,
“I’m fine. I just got back.”
She said,
“Welcome back.”
He greeted her again and she responded with care.
Then Yaya came out of her room and sat down; she hadn’t been inside for long. She fixed her eyes on him and said softly,
“Yaye, welcome back.”
He replied,
“Thank you, Yaya. Good evening.”
She answered,
“I’m fine. How was your effort?”
He said,
“Alhamdulillah.”
After a moment of silence, he asked,
“Ayiyah, is Yayyi asleep?”
Ayiyah replied,
“Yes. Why?”
He said,
“No reason—she usually brings me food.”
Quickly, Yaya stood up and said,
“Let me bring it for you instead. Why would you look for her?”
He kept quiet.
She returned with a tray and placed it before him.
After he finished eating, he stood up and went to his corner, his heart troubled. His only thought was where he would get money to pay his younger sister’s and his daughter’s school fees. He felt stuck, with no support ahead or behind. With those thoughts, sleep overtook him.
The next morning, as usual, he woke up early and went out to look for daily earnings. Only Ayiyah was awake then. He wandered around, carefully pacing himself, and managed to pick up just one passenger until it was time for the noon prayer. So he returned home to eat and rest, planning to go out again later.
He found the house unusually quiet—everyone lost in their own thoughts. He greeted them; Ayiyah and Yaya responded, while Yayyi and the little girl just stared at him. After sitting down, he greeted Ayiyah again and she replied calmly. Yaya greeted him too, then Yayyi.
The little girl said,
“Daddy, what about the promise you made to me?
You said you’d buy me those pretty accessories like the one with the headband—have you forgotten?”
He shook his head and said,
“I haven’t forgotten. My dear, keep praying; when Allah provides, we’ll buy it for you.”
She frowned, about to cry, and said,
“No, I want you to buy it for me today.”
Before he could speak, Yaya said,
“Enough, little girl. Are you out of your mind?”
He smiled and said,
“Come on, Yaya, how can she have sense? Take it easy with her.”
Yaya only clicked her tongue and said nothing more.
He looked at Yayyi and asked,
“What about Islamiyya school, Yayyi?”
She lowered her head and said,
“They said we shouldn’t come again until the fees are paid.”
Ayiyah said,
“I told them to pack up and stop going altogether. I’m tired of being humiliated—today one thing, tomorrow another.”
Yaye said,
“Please, Allah will make a way. They won’t stop going. Yayyi is old enough to understand, but the little girl is just starting school. Let them be patient; Allah will provide.”
Ayiyah replied,
“May Allah provide.”
After eating, he went out again and didn’t return until after 11 p.m.
The next day, he went out again very early.
So he kept roaming about, his body weak and his heart filled with different kinds of sorrow. He wondered when happiness would ever visit their lives. They were living a very harsh life. Whenever it became too much for him, he would simply wipe his tears and continue wandering the streets. Even his motorcycle taxi (adai-adai sahu) was beginning to break down and needed constant repairs.
(This isn’t much, please take it slowly. Be patient—you may see me stop posting sometimes because my phone isn’t in good condition.)
INDO CE..
💖💖💖 SIHIRIN KAUNA 💖💖💖
Page 2
By INDO CE..
Elegant Online Writers
(Free 😂)
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.
Life continued to move on in hardship. Whenever he went out, he didn’t even like returning home, because the little girl was too young to understand life. Her only wish was for him to fulfill the promise he made, yet he had no way to do so. What troubled him most was that they had stopped going to school due to lack of money. Whatever little he earned went into buying food for them—let alone school fees.
He sat at the entrance of their house, resting his chin in deep thought. Yaya’s voice interrupted him; with compassion she said,
“Yaye, too much thinking causes problems. Please stop putting so much worry in your heart before something happens to you.”
He wiped the tears streaming down his face, forced a smile, and said,
“Yaya, I’m not thinking too much—what pains me is how happiness has deserted us, and how I can’t pay my daughter’s school fees.”
She wiped her own tears before replying,
“I don’t want that to trouble you, Yaye. If it’s about the little girl, don’t worry—she can continue her schooling later if Allah makes it easy for us. There’s still time. Even the effort you make to find food for us is enough; don’t burden yourself over anything else. Please be patient and stop crying—you’re a man.”
He smiled faintly and said,
“Crying has become unavoidable for me. I don’t think there will ever be a day I stop shedding tears. Sadness has deeply affected my life. Go back inside; I’m going out now. Tell Ayiyah that I’ve gone.”
With that, he stood up and left.
She watched him go, her heart overflowing with pity. When she returned inside, she went straight to her room—she couldn’t hold it in anymore; crying was the only thing that could ease her heart. She felt so much compassion for him and wished she had the means to help him and make him happy.
He went out and returned later; before reaching home, he had already spent the little money he earned. He bought food for them and left again. His earnings were small, especially during a time when motorcycle taxi riders barely got customers.
That day, before he returned, Yaya called him to inform him that Yayyi was unwell—she had gone to work but came back in distress. He took her straight to the hospital, where she was examined. The doctor told him she had severe typhoid combined with malaria, which had drained her strength. She needed medication and injections. The total cost was ₦2,600. He only had ₦1,200 altogether. He begged the doctor to give the medicine on credit and allow him to bring the balance later, but the doctor refused. He said he would only give drugs equivalent to the money available, and he could buy the rest later. With no other option, he agreed.
They returned home, both weak and quiet.
The next day, he went out again as usual. As always, whatever he earned went into buying food, leaving him unable to get the remaining medicine.
After wandering around all day, tired and ready to return home, he was walking when some children surrounded him, jumping and playing, telling him to wait—“Yamee is coming.”
He stopped and watched to see who was coming.
As he stared, he saw her approaching with a group of about twenty children.
She was a young lady, about nineteen to twenty years old, dressed in a milky-colored lace fabric with golden patterns. She wore a golden veil, draped over one shoulder, and tied part of the lace as a headscarf. The outfit clung to her body, especially the skirt, which was tight at the waist and flared down to the ground, covering her feet completely. Her eyes were half-closed, fixed on the ground as she walked proudly, as if the road belonged to her father.
He stood there staring until she got close and spoke, snapping him back to reality.
In a voice that sounded almost like that of a drunk, she said,
“Hey you—take us and drop us at our house.”
He replied,
“By God, I don’t know where your house is.”
She opened her eyes wide and exclaimed,
“What??”
She looked at the children around her, then back at him and said,
“Did you hear that? He says he doesn’t know our house!”
They all burst into laughter.
She continued,
“You really need to go back to school. You don’t know our house!”
He kept watching her, amazed at how someone so beautiful and lovable could turn out to be a street thug. Without realizing it, he said,
“Are you sure, madam, you’re not taking something?”
She laughed and said,
“Wow… so you think I look like someone who takes drugs? Children, hear this—he’s questioning me! Are you sure this one is even in his right senses?”
By now, her behavior was beginning to worry and scare him. Her voice truly sounded like that of a drunk, and it seemed she had taken something before coming out—especially with dozens of children behind her laughing at him. His only fear was that she might order them to beat him up for no reason.
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Filled with exhaustion, he walked until he entered their house and found his mother seated, engaged in her litanies. He went closer and sat beside her quietly, his heart heavy with pain, and said,
“Ayiyah, welcome home.”
She looked at him with deep compassion, as if she was about to cry, and said,
“Yaye, you’re back? I hope you’re well, Yaye.”
He nodded and replied,
“I’m fine. I just got back.”
She said,
“Welcome back.”
He greeted her again and she responded with care.
Then Yaya came out of her room and sat down; she hadn’t been inside for long. She fixed her eyes on him and said softly,
“Yaye, welcome back.”
He replied,
“Thank you, Yaya. Good evening.”
She answered,
“I’m fine. How was your effort?”
He said,
“Alhamdulillah.”
After a moment of silence, he asked,
“Ayiyah, is Yayyi asleep?”
Ayiyah replied,
“Yes. Why?”
He said,
“No reason—she usually brings me food.”
Quickly, Yaya stood up and said,
“Let me bring it for you instead. Why would you look for her?”
He kept quiet.
She returned with a tray and placed it before him.
After he finished eating, he stood up and went to his corner, his heart troubled. His only thought was where he would get money to pay his younger sister’s and his daughter’s school fees. He felt stuck, with no support ahead or behind. With those thoughts, sleep overtook him.
The next morning, as usual, he woke up early and went out to look for daily earnings. Only Ayiyah was awake then. He wandered around, carefully pacing himself, and managed to pick up just one passenger until it was time for the noon prayer. So he returned home to eat and rest, planning to go out again later.
He found the house unusually quiet—everyone lost in their own thoughts. He greeted them; Ayiyah and Yaya responded, while Yayyi and the little girl just stared at him. After sitting down, he greeted Ayiyah again and she replied calmly. Yaya greeted him too, then Yayyi.
The little girl said,
“Daddy, what about the promise you made to me?
You said you’d buy me those pretty accessories like the one with the headband—have you forgotten?”
He shook his head and said,
“I haven’t forgotten. My dear, keep praying; when Allah provides, we’ll buy it for you.”
She frowned, about to cry, and said,
“No, I want you to buy it for me today.”
Before he could speak, Yaya said,
“Enough, little girl. Are you out of your mind?”
He smiled and said,
“Come on, Yaya, how can she have sense? Take it easy with her.”
Yaya only clicked her tongue and said nothing more.
He looked at Yayyi and asked,
“What about Islamiyya school, Yayyi?”
She lowered her head and said,
“They said we shouldn’t come again until the fees are paid.”
Ayiyah said,
“I told them to pack up and stop going altogether. I’m tired of being humiliated—today one thing, tomorrow another.”
Yaye said,
“Please, Allah will make a way. They won’t stop going. Yayyi is old enough to understand, but the little girl is just starting school. Let them be patient; Allah will provide.”
Ayiyah replied,
“May Allah provide.”
After eating, he went out again and didn’t return until after 11 p.m.
The next day, he went out again very early.
So he kept roaming about, his body weak and his heart filled with different kinds of sorrow. He wondered when happiness would ever visit their lives. They were living a very harsh life. Whenever it became too much for him, he would simply wipe his tears and continue wandering the streets. Even his motorcycle taxi (adai-adai sahu) was beginning to break down and needed constant repairs.
(This isn’t much, please take it slowly. Be patient—you may see me stop posting sometimes because my phone isn’t in good condition.)
INDO CE..
💖💖💖 SIHIRIN KAUNA 💖💖💖
Page 2
By INDO CE..
Elegant Online Writers
(Free 😂)
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.
Life continued to move on in hardship. Whenever he went out, he didn’t even like returning home, because the little girl was too young to understand life. Her only wish was for him to fulfill the promise he made, yet he had no way to do so. What troubled him most was that they had stopped going to school due to lack of money. Whatever little he earned went into buying food for them—let alone school fees.
He sat at the entrance of their house, resting his chin in deep thought. Yaya’s voice interrupted him; with compassion she said,
“Yaye, too much thinking causes problems. Please stop putting so much worry in your heart before something happens to you.”
He wiped the tears streaming down his face, forced a smile, and said,
“Yaya, I’m not thinking too much—what pains me is how happiness has deserted us, and how I can’t pay my daughter’s school fees.”
She wiped her own tears before replying,
“I don’t want that to trouble you, Yaye. If it’s about the little girl, don’t worry—she can continue her schooling later if Allah makes it easy for us. There’s still time. Even the effort you make to find food for us is enough; don’t burden yourself over anything else. Please be patient and stop crying—you’re a man.”
He smiled faintly and said,
“Crying has become unavoidable for me. I don’t think there will ever be a day I stop shedding tears. Sadness has deeply affected my life. Go back inside; I’m going out now. Tell Ayiyah that I’ve gone.”
With that, he stood up and left.
She watched him go, her heart overflowing with pity. When she returned inside, she went straight to her room—she couldn’t hold it in anymore; crying was the only thing that could ease her heart. She felt so much compassion for him and wished she had the means to help him and make him happy.
He went out and returned later; before reaching home, he had already spent the little money he earned. He bought food for them and left again. His earnings were small, especially during a time when motorcycle taxi riders barely got customers.
That day, before he returned, Yaya called him to inform him that Yayyi was unwell—she had gone to work but came back in distress. He took her straight to the hospital, where she was examined. The doctor told him she had severe typhoid combined with malaria, which had drained her strength. She needed medication and injections. The total cost was ₦2,600. He only had ₦1,200 altogether. He begged the doctor to give the medicine on credit and allow him to bring the balance later, but the doctor refused. He said he would only give drugs equivalent to the money available, and he could buy the rest later. With no other option, he agreed.
They returned home, both weak and quiet.
The next day, he went out again as usual. As always, whatever he earned went into buying food, leaving him unable to get the remaining medicine.
After wandering around all day, tired and ready to return home, he was walking when some children surrounded him, jumping and playing, telling him to wait—“Yamee is coming.”
He stopped and watched to see who was coming.
As he stared, he saw her approaching with a group of about twenty children.
She was a young lady, about nineteen to twenty years old, dressed in a milky-colored lace fabric with golden patterns. She wore a golden veil, draped over one shoulder, and tied part of the lace as a headscarf. The outfit clung to her body, especially the skirt, which was tight at the waist and flared down to the ground, covering her feet completely. Her eyes were half-closed, fixed on the ground as she walked proudly, as if the road belonged to her father.
He stood there staring until she got close and spoke, snapping him back to reality.
In a voice that sounded almost like that of a drunk, she said,
“Hey you—take us and drop us at our house.”
He replied,
“By God, I don’t know where your house is.”
She opened her eyes wide and exclaimed,
“What??”
She looked at the children around her, then back at him and said,
“Did you hear that? He says he doesn’t know our house!”
They all burst into laughter.
She continued,
“You really need to go back to school. You don’t know our house!”
He kept watching her, amazed at how someone so beautiful and lovable could turn out to be a street thug. Without realizing it, he said,
“Are you sure, madam, you’re not taking something?”
She laughed and said,
“Wow… so you think I look like someone who takes drugs? Children, hear this—he’s questioning me! Are you sure this one is even in his right senses?”
By now, her behavior was beginning to worry and scare him. Her voice truly sounded like that of a drunk, and it seemed she had taken something before coming out—especially with dozens of children behind her laughing at him. His only fear was that she might order them to beat him up for no reason.