Abokin Aikina Book One – English Translation

I wiped away the tears streaming down my face, stood up, and entered my room to pray. I remained on the prayer mat for a long time, asking Allah to rescue me from the painful situation in which I had found myself.

The children entered, making me raise my head to look at them. They competed to greet me, and I answered them with a cheerful expression.

Ummu Salma placed an overflowing plate of food before me. I smiled before asking:

“How am I supposed to finish all this food by myself?”

“Eat until you are satisfied, Mama. Umma told us to ensure you eat plenty of food. She also instructed us to comfort you and never allow you to cry,” Haidar replied.

He scooped some tuwo and attempted to place it inside my mouth. I opened my mouth, and he fed me with a delighted smile on his face.

When the other children saw this, they too began scooping the tuwo and feeding me. I neither stopped them nor refused the food.

When I began feeling nauseous, I finally asked them to stop. Ummu Salma brought me water, which I drank.

My heart was filled with happiness. I thanked them and prayed that Allah would bless them.

I instructed them to finish the remaining tuwo. Afterwards, I asked them to accompany me to the living room, where we ate the danwake together. I greatly enjoyed its taste.

I slept peacefully that night, and the headache that had been tormenting me became less severe.

Mukhtar did not return home until half past midnight. As usual, he had spent most of the night outside.

I heard him locking the main door before entering and closing his bedroom door. I released a heavy sigh and thought:

“There is honestly no difference between me and a widow. Why do some men fail to understand what women need most from them? How can a woman happily care for her husband when he never treats her as a priority?”

A sudden cramp struck my lower abdomen. I quickly held the area and cried:

“Oh, Allah!”

Sweat began forming across my body as the pain tightened in one place and throbbed intensely.

I recognised the physical feeling causing it and was certain that unfulfilled desire was behind the pain. I remained in that condition for a long time before finally finding relief in the way I had become accustomed to whenever it happened.

Afterwards, I burst into tears because I felt disgusted with what I had done. I hated it deeply, yet I had repeatedly failed to stop myself.

I felt that there was no easy alternative available to me. Although I knew it was sinful and could be harmful, I chose to obtain relief that way because I could never commit adultery, nor could I bring myself to approach Mukhtar.

Even if I went to him, he could not provide what I needed or relieve my discomfort. Instead, he would only increase my frustration and leave me spending the night hissing bitterly and feeling angry with myself.

I refused to sleep in a state of ritual impurity. I stood up, performed the required purification bath, and returned to bed with my heart as troubled as always.

Nevertheless, I slept peacefully because the physical tension had finally eased.

Early the following morning, I got up and helped Ummu Salma and the others prepare for school.

They hurriedly ate breakfast before going to Mukhtar’s room to request money for their school contribution and transportation.

From where I stood, I heard him scolding them.

“I swear I have no money to give you today. I am not even going to work, so how can I give you money for your school contribution? Take this one hundred naira and manage it for transportation if anyone agrees to carry you.”

The children emerged with unhappy expressions and stood before me.

I rose bitterly, brought out enough money for their school contribution, and added sufficient transport fare to take them to school and bring them home.

Mukhtar normally gave them money for only the journey to school. When school closed, they were forced to walk home.

I strongly warned them to return directly home and not go anywhere else. They should leave again only when it was time to attend Islamiyya.

I explained that I was going to the hospital to see a doctor and did not know when I would return.

I accompanied them to the entrance. They waved at me as they left, and I returned to my room in anger.

I was furious about the careless manner in which Mukhtar treated me and the children. His negligence strengthened my patience and determination to remain in the marriage as Umma wanted, if only for the children’s sake.

If an animal were left in Mukhtar’s care, it could die without him even realising it. His negligence affected every aspect of his life.

He had not even fulfilled his obligations towards himself, let alone his responsibilities towards those depending on him.

I hurriedly dressed without speaking to him again and left the house.

I went directly to Firdausi’s house because I wanted her to accompany me to the hospital. I no longer had my phone, so I could not call her beforehand.

She welcomed me happily, and we entered her bedroom, delighted to see each other.

I sat on her bed and cried:

“Oh!”

The journey had left my entire body aching because I still had not regained my strength.

After exchanging greetings, I explained why I had come. She remained silent briefly before responding:

“Let me inform Mujahida’s father before he leaves the house.”

She hurried outside while I watched her admiringly. She and her husband lived peacefully with their children, and their home was filled with happiness.

I rested my chin in my hand and thought:

“You were fortunate in marriage, unlike me, who merely escorted other women into the happiness marriage was supposed to provide.”

Whenever I saw a woman and her husband loving each other, it touched me deeply.

I had gained nothing from marriage except suffering and repeatedly walking into calamity. My husband had destroyed my dignity in people’s eyes and exposed me to insults I did not deserve.

Firdausi returned.

“Good! He agreed that we could go, but I swear he complained bitterly.”

“What did he complain about?”

I asked immediately as my heart suddenly began pounding.

“He asked where your husband was and why he couldn’t take you to the hospital instead of leaving that responsibility to me.”

I sighed and rested my chin in my hand. A bitter sensation immediately filled my throat.

In a weak voice close to tears, I said:

“If accompanying me will create difficulties for you, I can go by myself.”

“He didn’t forbid me from going. He was only angry that I must accompany you when your husband should be responsible for taking you. Let me get ready so that we can leave before it becomes late and the waiting line becomes too long.”

After she prepared, we left the house and found a vehicle.

During the journey, I explained everything that had happened between Mukhtar and me regarding the hospital visit.

Firdausi shook her head in frustration.

“I honestly don’t understand what kind of person Mukhtar is. He is never satisfied unless he gives people something unpleasant to discuss. Before Allah, he does not behave well at all. Good health should come before everything else.”

I remained silent because I was extremely upset.

When we arrived at the hospital, we found many people waiting. We joined the queue.

Firdausi and I discussed the problems experienced by married couples until it was finally my turn.

I entered the doctor’s office weakly and sat on the chair before him. I began explaining all the symptoms I had been experiencing.

He remained silent while writing. After some time, he raised his head, studied me carefully, and asked:

“Are you married?”

“Yes,” I answered.

He wrote something on a sheet of paper and handed it to me.

“Go and have these tests conducted. Bring the results back to me when they are ready.”

I hurriedly stood and left the office. I felt as though he continued watching me as I walked away.

I handed the paper to Firdausi, and we went to the laboratory section.

We joined another queue and waited until it was our turn. Firdausi accompanied me inside.

They collected samples of my blood and urine. Afterwards, we returned to the waiting area for the results.

After several minutes, my name was called. I collected the test report, and we returned to the doctor.

I handed him the paper. He studied it for approximately two minutes before looking at me.

“You have a stomach ulcer. You are also experiencing severe physical desire and tension. You must try to manage the condition before it becomes more serious.”

Embarrassment overwhelmed me. I frowned and remained silent.

He wrote a prescription and handed it to me before praying for my recovery.

I hurriedly left his office because I was deeply embarrassed.

I did not tell Firdausi what the doctor had said about my physical condition. I only informed her that I had been diagnosed with an ulcer.

Firdausi suggested that we visit the pharmacy outside the hospital. The pharmacist checked the prescription, gathered the medicines, and placed them inside a bag.

After calculating the total price, we discovered that the money I had was insufficient. Firdausi added the remaining amount, allowing me to collect the medicines.

We then left and began searching for transportation by the roadside.

Something suddenly made me look to one side. MD was hurrying past us, and our eyes immediately met.

My heart skipped because seeing him reminded me of the damage Mukhtar had done to his car.

I immediately lowered my head. However, MD returned and stopped before us, cheerfully asking where we were going.

Firdausi answered him.

“We are going home.”

I greeted him while feeling extremely uncomfortable in his presence.

He opened his car door and stepped out, keeping his eyes on me.

“How are you feeling now?”

With my head lowered, I answered:

“I am feeling better.”

“May Allah grant you complete recovery.”

“Ameen,” Firdausi responded while I kept my head lowered.

My heart desperately wanted to apologise for everything that had happened to him.

MD returned to his car and brought out a bag. He handed it to me.

“Your phone is inside. I forgot to return it to you that day. Fear of causing another quarrel prevented me from giving it to someone else to deliver to your house.

“Please forgive me for what happened that day. I didn’t know my actions would cause that problem. If I had known, I wouldn’t have come.”

“It is all right. I am the person who should be apologising to you,” I answered weakly.

He quickly interrupted me.

“No, don’t worry about it. May Allah grant you better health.”

After saying this, he entered his car and drove away.

I sighed before turning towards Firdausi.

“MD is genuinely kind. Even at the office, he never interferes unnecessarily with women. That is why I feel terrible about what Mukhtar did to him.”

“May Allah make things right. But suspicion will never allow Mukhtar to live peacefully with you unless he changes his behaviour.”

We found a vehicle and began travelling home.

During the journey, I opened the bag MD had given me, intending to retrieve my phone.

To my shock, I discovered a brand-new phone box inside.

My mouth fell open.

“I am in serious trouble!”

Firdausi looked inside the bag.

“It is a new phone!”

I hurriedly removed the phone from its box. It was so new and polished that it almost sparkled.

I then noticed my original phone lying beneath the new phone’s box.

My body began trembling because I was terrified of what this gift might cause.

Before Allah, I was already exhausted by constant turmoil—especially any situation that could create another conflict between Mukhtar and me.

I did not want him to continue accusing me falsely and exposing me to people’s insults.

Firdausi noticed the sudden change in my expression.

“Why are you worrying about something you never requested?”

“I know Mukhtar’s behaviour. Because of this phone, he could expose me to people’s insults and make Umma angry with me.”

I completed the sentence like a frightened child.

“Are you planning to tell him exactly how you received it? Listen carefully: I swear by Allah, if you don’t help yourself, nobody will rescue you from Mukhtar’s control.

“I am not saying you shouldn’t return MD’s phone if accepting it makes you uncomfortable. However, stop giving Mukhtar opportunities to destroy your reputation without justification.

“Simply because his own wrongdoing has become as large as a mountain, he ignores it and searches for your smallest mistake. He then displays it publicly and distributes the story among people!”

Firdausi finished speaking in a raised and angry voice.

I remained silent, reflecting deeply upon her words.

Finally, I spoke quietly.

“Honestly, I will return the phone to him. I don’t want Mukhtar’s accusations against us to appear true.”