She was a young woman, about twenty-two years old, seated in the back seat of a GLK model car. She was dressed in Super Holland Ankara with red patterns and touches of green. She was fair-skinned and very beautiful to behold, tall but not excessively so. Her eyes were strikingly beautiful, and her small pink lips were captivating. She wore a green veil, carried a small handbag, and had golden-colored shoes. Her neck and fingers were adorned with large gold chains and rings.

That day was her first outing since her wedding, which had taken place three weeks earlier. She had stepped out to attend the wedding of one of her course mates, someone who had gone straight into honeymoon after her own wedding, and that was what brought her out.

As soon as their driver parked the car—whose number plate boldly bore the inscription “Senate”—the attention of the young women around was immediately drawn to it. The driver stepped out and opened the door where she sat. Her high-heeled shoe appeared first before she herself stepped out, and instantly the place was thrown into excitement with people shouting, “Fatima Senate! Fatima Senate!!”

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Background Story

Fatima Ahmad Ishaq was her full name. She was born in Yobe State, in the Nyan’ya area. Her father, Malam Ahmad, was a trader who lived a modest, contented life. He was married to Habiba, and they had three children.

Karima was the eldest, followed by Fatima, and then their younger brother Abdulwahab, who was just one year younger than Fatima. This closeness in age made them very close companions.

Among Malam Ahmad’s children, Allah tested him with a special affection for Fatima. Though he tried to hide it at first, it gradually became obvious. Habiba did everything she could to ensure that this affection did not become openly apparent, so that it would not cause discord among the children.

Her name was Fatima, but she was popularly called Bhatool. Bhatool grew up as a lively, fashionable, and playful girl. Even when she spoke, people paused to look at her; not to mention her walk and her entire lifestyle.

This liveliness of Bhatool caused her to be disliked by her father’s relatives, who never really liked her mother from the beginning. This was in contrast to Karima, who was calm, quiet, patient, and trouble-free.

Abdulwahab too was calm and not troublesome. If ever he was seen arguing or making noise, it was always because of Bhatool. By nature, he was quiet and spoke little; it was only Bhatool who could provoke him into talking, arguing, or making noise.

At the time, Karima was eighteen years old, Bhatool sixteen, and Abdulwahab fifteen. Their father passed away as a result of high blood pressure.

When his illness became severe, Malam Ahmad summoned his close friend Alhaji Aminu and Abdulwahab, to whom he used to explain his business dealings. Knowing that death was near and that his wife and children would lose their privileges, and knowing the character of his relatives, he instructed Alhaji Aminu to divide his wealth into three parts. Two parts were to be set aside until his relatives would selfishly share the inheritance, while Abdulwahab was entrusted with the remaining part, knowing he would take care of himself and his siblings.

His only instruction to his wife was: “Habiba, take care of my children. Stand firmly so that they acquire education and live a good life.”

And to his children, he repeatedly said: “Stay united, be like a single broom bound together. Love one another. And here is the trust of your sister Bhatool—take good care of her. She is fragile. Abdulwahab, Allah is your support, and you are their support. Be her protector. Do not let her cry even once over the loss of her father.”

Turning to Karima, he said: “Karima, be the elder one. Always remember Bhatool is your younger sister and fragile. Be a true elder sister to her. Do not allow her to cry even once because of my absence.”

To Fatima, he said: “Fatima! Karima is your elder sister, Abdulwahab is your younger brother. I want you to obey both of them as one. Treat Abdulwahab like your elder. Bhatool, never disobey them even once. I know they will never allow you to cry over my loss.”

And to Abdulwahab: “You are the youngest, but Allah has given you greatness. Be a father figure to them, be their shield. Obey your mother completely. Abdul, do not ever allow any of them to cry over my absence.”

To Karima again: “I have nothing more to tell you. Train our children well. But always remember, Bhatool is a trust in your hands.”

They all fell silent. They were used to hearing such words from him, but that day his speech felt different. Even Bhatool, who usually enjoyed such talks, felt something unusual in her heart.

On Thursday night, at the break of Friday dawn, Allah took his soul. His family and relatives mourned loudly. Three days later, the relatives demanded the sharing of the inheritance.

They brought a fake cleric who carried out a fraudulent and selfish division. He took half and a quarter of the property and gave it to them. In the end, only the house they were living in was left to them.

A few months after his death, Alhaji Aminu opened a large shop in the market for Abdulwahab. After Abdulwahab managed to complete secondary school with difficulty, he began trading, and Allah blessed his business. Karima and Fatima continued their education, living a calm life within their means.

At this stage, their paternal relatives—who had not checked on them since their father’s death—returned with the demand that Karima and Bhatool be married off. At that time, Karima was between nineteen and twenty, while Bhatool was seventeen.

They proposed a man Karima had met during her first year at Shehu Sule College of Health Sciences. Their mother told them Karima already had someone she loved, and that Bhatool was too young, had not completed secondary school, and was not mature enough for marriage. Besides, her lively nature meant not every man could live with her.

This statement from their mother caused great tension among the relatives. Some of them were known for marrying their children into problematic families. They were also aware that Abdulwahab’s business was flourishing. Still, their mother stood her ground, knowing marriage is the completion of a woman’s life, but she did not want her daughters to suffer in marriage.

Eventually, Bashir presented himself as Karima’s suitor, and their wedding was fixed for six months later.

Those who insisted on marrying off the girls withdrew, leaving the matter to their mother and her relatives. Karima’s wedding took place, and her husband Bashir was an NNPC employee.

During this wedding, Bhatool attracted a lot of criticism because of her dressing style. She wore outfits associated with actresses and people labeled as wayward—styles like “Zuge Darling,” “Show Me Your Back,” and similar designs. She also wore false eyelashes, something commonly seen only on actresses or non-Muslims at the time, and had Brazilian hair extensions in bright colors.

This earned her heavy criticism. Some called her immoral, others predicted she would become so. The wedding ended with everyone carrying their own opinions.

Bhatool’s life continued, surrounded by care and support from her family. Even more so after Karima’s marriage, because her husband was the type referred to as “a husband of orphans”—he took full responsibility for her family’s needs, supported Bhatool’s education until she completed it, and was now in the process of opening a clinic for her.

Abdulwahab also became a successful businessman, dealing with major traders despite his young age. He returned to school part-time and now owned two shops in addition to the first one.

As for Bhatool, she had grown even more beautiful. Her elegance and charm increased, now blended with education and sophistication. Everything about her was classy.

She was currently a first-year student at Yobe State University (YSU), studying Entrepreneurship. They were in their first semester as new students. She had three close friends who admired her character and wanted to associate with her because Bhatool was very popular.

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Red Bricks Area

It was a massive house, impressive at first glance because of its size, structure, and decoration.

It was a large flat-style building, beautifully designed. Inside it was a smaller section, itself as big as an entire house.

Inside were two handsome young men—one fair-skinned, the other dark-skinned.

The fair one did not look Nigerian at all; he resembled Arabs more, though his hair lay flat and flowed down to his neck like that of Koreans. His lips were deeply pink, as though nothing had ever touched them. His eyebrows were thick and jet black.

The dark-skinned one was also handsome, but not even half as attractive as the fair one. The dark-skinned man was the one talking, while the fair one remained silent.

“Senate, I’m talking to you.”

The silence continued. His eyes were fixed on him, not even blinking.

“If you won’t talk, I will leave.”

He shook his head slightly, signaling “No.”

“Then talk.”

Slowly, he began to speak, opening his mouth carefully, like someone learning how to talk.

“Bud-die.”

His voice was unusually cool and soothing.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Start anywhere, Senate.”