The car slowly pulled into the lane and stopped in front of a massive gate. The faint sound it made suggested it had traveled a long distance. The driver didn’t honk; instead, he maneuvered the car to the side under a tamarind tree as the gate was opened. Some elderly men emerged from the back of the car, while a young man stepped out from the driver’s seat. The driver handed over the keys with a greeting.

They approached the house, their steps heavy, as if reluctant to knock. After a moment, an elderly man peeked through a small door within the gate. He quickly opened it, saying, “Ah, Alhaji, welcome! You’ve traveled far, safe journey!” He shook their hands, and they exchanged pleasantries, saying, “Honestly, Malam Sani, how did we find you?” 

Malam Sani, beaming with joy, replied, “Alhamdulillah!” Before moving forward, he added, “Let me take you to Alhaji. May Allah make it easy; he’s around.”

They entered the compound, following Malam Sani toward the main house where the host received guests.

As they reached the door, Malam Sani appeared, saying, “Bismillah, come in, welcome!” He hurriedly gestured, fulfilling Alhaji’s order to summon his trusted confidant, Malam Bukar. They entered the parlor with a greeting, and Masha Allah, it was filled with everything needed for a comfortable life, resembling a royal palace.

With warmth and a welcoming smile, Alhaji Jafar, the textile merchant, approached his guests, saying, “Ah! Alhaji Sulaiman, you came on such a day, and from so far!” But deep in his heart, he was surprised. He knew there was no ordinary reason for their visit at this time, especially since they still had three days before the deadline, and all requirements had been met. Still, he thought, whatever it was, may Allah make it good.

After customary greetings, one of Alhaji Jafar’s sons entered, greeted the guests, placed lemon drinks and water before them, and left. A young man and a girl followed, carrying large warmers and a basket with plates, spoons, and cups. They greeted the guests and exited.

Since this modest wealth of Alhaji Sulaiman began arriving, his head had been bowed, his heart heavy with worry. “Bismillah, eat some food before we pray, as Asr is approaching,” Alhaji Jafar said, heading toward the door.

After Alhaji Jafar left, Alhaji Ismail looked at his brother, Alhaji Sulaiman. “Honestly, I’m at a loss for how to bring up this matter, given the hospitality of this good man,” he said, letting out a faint sigh.

The young man who drove them spoke up. “Wallahi, Daddy, I wish you’d reconsider coming here. Let Hajiya come and tell them herself what she’s planned. I’ve never seen anything like this—everything done with mutual respect until this point, but now this issue arises out of nowhere. It’s unpleasant, and I feel sorry for Musbahu; he’s in a terrible state, but she doesn’t care.”

Alhaji Sulaiman remained silent, not even glancing at the food despite his hunger. He only sipped the lemon drink and water. Alhaji Ismail and Al-Amin ate, then headed to the nearby mosque for prayers.

They returned together after praying, including Malam Bukar, the mosque’s imam. They exchanged fresh greetings, but this time Al-Amin didn’t join them. Alhaji Sulaiman gathered the courage to speak, looking at Malam Bukar. “Please, Malam, forgive us for what we’ve come with. Wallahi, if it weren’t for this house, nothing would bring me back to this town.” He paused, unable to continue, as something caught in his throat.

Alhaji Jafar, too, felt a sudden unease, his heart sinking for no apparent reason. A brief silence filled the room before Malam Bukar spoke. “Alhaji, say what it is. There’s no problem—life brings both joy and hardship to everyone. A true Muslim knows this is fate, so there’s no worry; we are together.”

Alhaji Ismail took over, seeing his brother couldn’t continue. “Please forgive us, Malam, regarding the marriage between our son and your daughter. A problem arose three days ago. The boy’s mother has been insistent, refusing to let Musbahu marry Zahra, no matter how we tried to resolve it. She even said if Musbahu marries Zahra, she won’t forgive him for the milk he nursed from her. We tried to reason with her, but she refused to explain her objection. In the end, it’s become an obsession for her, like she’s possessed.” As he explained, Alhaji Jafar listened intently.