It was a spacious bedroom filled with luxurious items meant for comfort, pleasure, and a life of ease. Anyone who carefully examined the room would immediately be convinced that its owner had been blessed by God with wealth, enough to furnish it with every modern convenience. With just a single glance, one could tell the room belonged to a woman, because the dressing mirror was crowded with cosmetics and beauty products. There was also a glass display cabinet holding women’s shoes and handbags, arranged like a fashion boutique. Just by looking at the shoes and bags, you could tell this was no poor person. On the large bed in the room lay a beautiful young lady, her hair spread out as she slept peacefully and calmly.
Morning light filtered in through the window and fell across her face, causing her to stir gently and open her eyes. She frowned slightly, then sat up and glanced at the wall clock in her room—it was 9:30 a.m. Slowly, she lowered her feet to the floor, stood up, and walked toward the bathroom inside her room. Even Paradise itself would not compare to her beauty; she was a sight worth standing still to admire.
She took her bath and came out wrapped only in a towel. Surprisingly, even her bed had already been neatly arranged. She sat in front of the mirror, applying one thing and rubbing in another, doing everything calmly and carefully. She picked up a blouse and skirt, put them on, added a short scarf over her head, wore her shoes with sharp heels, and picked up her handbag. She checked her wristwatch—it was exactly 10:30 a.m.—then she opened her door and stepped out.
She walked with an air of pride and elegance, her shoes clicking “kwas, kwas” as she moved. She entered the sitting room and sat down gracefully. She hadn’t been seated long when a housemaid brought a plate of fruits and placed it in front of her. She didn’t even look at the fruits; instead, she kept staring at her wrist, checking the time on her watch.
“So, Isa, village life has both pleasure and hardship,” someone said.
Isa replied, “Oh please, my brother, what kind of pleasure is there in village life? Have you ever seen someone living in the city who willingly goes back to the village? Apart from extreme suffering, what is there in the village?”
“Well, village life is better than city life in terms of peace of mind. There’s no tension, no fear. But in the city, dishonesty is everywhere.”
Isa scoffed and said, “Honestly, my friend, since God brought me to the city and I got this security job, I only go to the village for visits. I don’t plan to live there again. In fact, I’m even planning to bring my family here.”
“You want to bring your family into this house? Didn’t you say you live in constant fear, that you could be dismissed at any time?”
Isa replied, “If God covers me and I manage to bring my family here, I’ll rent a place.”
They continued chatting and joking, discussing the differences between city life and village life.
She checked her watch again—it was 11:45 a.m. She stood up with her usual proud stride and walked out into the compound, heading straight for the gate. The security guard, Isa, was sitting there chatting with his friend Sani while eating groundnuts.
As soon as Isa saw her, he quickly stood up, trembling slightly, and said, “May God assist you, welcome out.”
She didn’t respond to the greeting. Instead, she asked coldly, “Has Sabo the driver still not arrived?”
Respectfully, Isa replied, “Yes, ma’am, he hasn’t arrived yet.”
She frowned, nodded sharply, and turned back into the house.
Sani then asked Isa, “Isa, who is that woman? I noticed your body was shaking just because she came out.”
Isa replied, “My brother, just leave it. She’s the daughter of the owner of this house. She has no siblings, no brothers—she’s the pampered child of the Alhaji. She returned from Europe three months ago. That girl hasn’t been touched by hardship at all; she behaves completely like a foreigner. Honestly, today Sabo is in serious trouble.”
Sani asked, “What do you mean Sabo is in trouble? What happened?”
Before Isa could finish, there was loud knocking at the gate. Isa rushed to open it. A man who looked to be about forty years old entered hurriedly, as if he had been chased.
Isa looked at him and said, “Oh Sabo, today you’re really finished. She just came out looking for you.”
Sabo immediately began uttering prayers. “I’m in big trouble now. What will I do? By God, my child was sick, so I took him to a chemist.”
Isa replied, “Don’t explain to me—go and meet her.”
As they were talking, she came out again. Her face was stern, with no hint of warmth. She looked at Sabo and asked, “What time did I tell you I would be going out?”
Trembling, he replied, “Eleven o’clock, ma’am.”
“And what time is it now?”
“Ten minutes past twelve.”
“Good. Give me the keys to my cars.”
Sabo pleaded, “Please, for God’s sake, forgive me. My child was sick—I had to take him to the chemist.”
She shouted angrily, “Shut up. Did I ask you? Give me my keys.”
He tried to kneel down, but she stopped him. “Are those cars your father’s, or mine?”
“They are yours, madam.”
“If they are mine, then bring my keys. You are dismissed. Your remaining payment will be given to the security guard to pass on to you. From today, you must seek my permission for anything you do. A promise is important—keeping it is a sign of trust. When I employed you, your time belonged to me, not to yourself, since I pay you. Therefore, anything you want to do, no matter how important—except worship—you must get my permission first.”
After saying this, she turned and went back into the house.
Sabo looked for a place to sit, held his head in his hands, and kept murmuring prayers.
Isa said, “Sabo, just be patient. May God give you a better job than this.”
With deep sadness, Sabo replied, “Ameen, Isa. Thank you very much. May God reward you with goodness. If she releases the rest of my entitlements, I’ll come to collect them.”
They exchanged farewells, and Sabo left the compound, his heart heavy and full of sorrow.
After Sabo’s departure, Sani said worriedly, “Bala, let me ask you—doesn’t she have manners? Doesn’t she know fairness, forgiveness, or excuses?”
Bala replied, “My friend, you know those things, but she doesn’t. That girl was raised with a very harsh ideology because of her life among foreigners. Her heart is like stone. Her beliefs are completely Western—there’s nothing Islamic about her. No one can get close to her and live peacefully. Her father’s wife and her children live in this same house, yet weeks pass without them seeing her, let alone sharing a meal. She treats them like servants. If you ever see her smiling, it’s only with her father, one of his close friends, or a few of her girlfriends. She has no compassion at all. Anyone who gets too close to her, she considers dishonest. Sabo is the fourth driver she has dismissed since returning to Nigeria. The salary is good, and her father gives bonuses, but every worker runs away because of her pride and cruelty. Even house helps I bring from my village run away on their own. Just look at Sabo—with all his patience and effort—see how she humiliated and dismissed him today.”
Sani sighed deeply and said, “So where is her mother? How was she allowed to grow up with this ideology that goes completely against our Islamic beliefs and our culture?”
Isa replied, “Her mother is dead. As for her father, whatever she does is always right in his eyes. He says making her unhappy is like setting fire to his own heart.”
Sani kept turning Isa’s words over in his mind as he thought deeply. He greeted Isa goodbye, stepped out, pushed his wheelbarrow of mangoes, and left the area.
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It was a spacious bedroom filled with luxurious items meant for comfort, pleasure, and a life of ease. Anyone who carefully examined the room would immediately be convinced that its owner had been blessed by God with wealth, enough to furnish it with every modern convenience. With just a single glance, one could tell the room belonged to a woman, because the dressing mirror was crowded with cosmetics and beauty products. There was also a glass display cabinet holding women’s shoes and handbags, arranged like a fashion boutique. Just by looking at the shoes and bags, you could tell this was no poor person. On the large bed in the room lay a beautiful young lady, her hair spread out as she slept peacefully and calmly.
Morning light filtered in through the window and fell across her face, causing her to stir gently and open her eyes. She frowned slightly, then sat up and glanced at the wall clock in her room—it was 9:30 a.m. Slowly, she lowered her feet to the floor, stood up, and walked toward the bathroom inside her room. Even Paradise itself would not compare to her beauty; she was a sight worth standing still to admire.
She took her bath and came out wrapped only in a towel. Surprisingly, even her bed had already been neatly arranged. She sat in front of the mirror, applying one thing and rubbing in another, doing everything calmly and carefully. She picked up a blouse and skirt, put them on, added a short scarf over her head, wore her shoes with sharp heels, and picked up her handbag. She checked her wristwatch—it was exactly 10:30 a.m.—then she opened her door and stepped out.
She walked with an air of pride and elegance, her shoes clicking “kwas, kwas” as she moved. She entered the sitting room and sat down gracefully. She hadn’t been seated long when a housemaid brought a plate of fruits and placed it in front of her. She didn’t even look at the fruits; instead, she kept staring at her wrist, checking the time on her watch.
“So, Isa, village life has both pleasure and hardship,” someone said.
Isa replied, “Oh please, my brother, what kind of pleasure is there in village life? Have you ever seen someone living in the city who willingly goes back to the village? Apart from extreme suffering, what is there in the village?”
“Well, village life is better than city life in terms of peace of mind. There’s no tension, no fear. But in the city, dishonesty is everywhere.”
Isa scoffed and said, “Honestly, my friend, since God brought me to the city and I got this security job, I only go to the village for visits. I don’t plan to live there again. In fact, I’m even planning to bring my family here.”
“You want to bring your family into this house? Didn’t you say you live in constant fear, that you could be dismissed at any time?”
Isa replied, “If God covers me and I manage to bring my family here, I’ll rent a place.”
They continued chatting and joking, discussing the differences between city life and village life.
She checked her watch again—it was 11:45 a.m. She stood up with her usual proud stride and walked out into the compound, heading straight for the gate. The security guard, Isa, was sitting there chatting with his friend Sani while eating groundnuts.
As soon as Isa saw her, he quickly stood up, trembling slightly, and said, “May God assist you, welcome out.”
She didn’t respond to the greeting. Instead, she asked coldly, “Has Sabo the driver still not arrived?”
Respectfully, Isa replied, “Yes, ma’am, he hasn’t arrived yet.”
She frowned, nodded sharply, and turned back into the house.
Sani then asked Isa, “Isa, who is that woman? I noticed your body was shaking just because she came out.”
Isa replied, “My brother, just leave it. She’s the daughter of the owner of this house. She has no siblings, no brothers—she’s the pampered child of the Alhaji. She returned from Europe three months ago. That girl hasn’t been touched by hardship at all; she behaves completely like a foreigner. Honestly, today Sabo is in serious trouble.”
Sani asked, “What do you mean Sabo is in trouble? What happened?”
Before Isa could finish, there was loud knocking at the gate. Isa rushed to open it. A man who looked to be about forty years old entered hurriedly, as if he had been chased.
Isa looked at him and said, “Oh Sabo, today you’re really finished. She just came out looking for you.”
Sabo immediately began uttering prayers. “I’m in big trouble now. What will I do? By God, my child was sick, so I took him to a chemist.”
Isa replied, “Don’t explain to me—go and meet her.”
As they were talking, she came out again. Her face was stern, with no hint of warmth. She looked at Sabo and asked, “What time did I tell you I would be going out?”
Trembling, he replied, “Eleven o’clock, ma’am.”
“And what time is it now?”
“Ten minutes past twelve.”
“Good. Give me the keys to my cars.”
Sabo pleaded, “Please, for God’s sake, forgive me. My child was sick—I had to take him to the chemist.”
She shouted angrily, “Shut up. Did I ask you? Give me my keys.”
He tried to kneel down, but she stopped him. “Are those cars your father’s, or mine?”
“They are yours, madam.”
“If they are mine, then bring my keys. You are dismissed. Your remaining payment will be given to the security guard to pass on to you. From today, you must seek my permission for anything you do. A promise is important—keeping it is a sign of trust. When I employed you, your time belonged to me, not to yourself, since I pay you. Therefore, anything you want to do, no matter how important—except worship—you must get my permission first.”
After saying this, she turned and went back into the house.
Sabo looked for a place to sit, held his head in his hands, and kept murmuring prayers.
Isa said, “Sabo, just be patient. May God give you a better job than this.”
With deep sadness, Sabo replied, “Ameen, Isa. Thank you very much. May God reward you with goodness. If she releases the rest of my entitlements, I’ll come to collect them.”
They exchanged farewells, and Sabo left the compound, his heart heavy and full of sorrow.
After Sabo’s departure, Sani said worriedly, “Bala, let me ask you—doesn’t she have manners? Doesn’t she know fairness, forgiveness, or excuses?”
Bala replied, “My friend, you know those things, but she doesn’t. That girl was raised with a very harsh ideology because of her life among foreigners. Her heart is like stone. Her beliefs are completely Western—there’s nothing Islamic about her. No one can get close to her and live peacefully. Her father’s wife and her children live in this same house, yet weeks pass without them seeing her, let alone sharing a meal. She treats them like servants. If you ever see her smiling, it’s only with her father, one of his close friends, or a few of her girlfriends. She has no compassion at all. Anyone who gets too close to her, she considers dishonest. Sabo is the fourth driver she has dismissed since returning to Nigeria. The salary is good, and her father gives bonuses, but every worker runs away because of her pride and cruelty. Even house helps I bring from my village run away on their own. Just look at Sabo—with all his patience and effort—see how she humiliated and dismissed him today.”
Sani sighed deeply and said, “So where is her mother? How was she allowed to grow up with this ideology that goes completely against our Islamic beliefs and our culture?”
Isa replied, “Her mother is dead. As for her father, whatever she does is always right in his eyes. He says making her unhappy is like setting fire to his own heart.”
Sani kept turning Isa’s words over in his mind as he thought deeply. He greeted Isa goodbye, stepped out, pushed his wheelbarrow of mangoes, and left the area.