The town gave clear signs that rain was on its way. A strong wind blew, gradually bringing rain with it.

She walked briskly, trying to outpace the rain. As it began falling, she picked up her pace, though her long pants or skirt hindered her.

Despite her efforts, the rain eventually caught up with her. She decided to walk at a normal pace, resigned to getting wet.

Walking slowly and observing the road ahead, she noticed a group of youth from Tagaruso, a forum known for its opposition to the local parliament.

They had halted, seemingly intent on hunting sharks or some other activity in the west, before returning to establish their leadership.

Rain was pouring down when she reached them, her head lowered. She stood, waiting for one of them to leave. “Like Bitsara,” one of them said, “Wowwww, here comes Saifu with three beauties!”

Ranta, in particular, received much praise, causing her to mutter silently, “You brutes,” under her breath. “Oh, Deen is Ai’s brother, and we have to deal with him.”

Upon seeing the spear at her side, she turned and made eye contact with a young man named Dallah. He approached her, smiling, and she gave him a quick kiss.

In a calm voice, he said, “Let’s go inside; the rain is getting heavier.” She said nothing and walked ahead. He walked in front of her, blocking her path. She rolled her eyes and halted, gazing at him.

He was dressed in a white cloth, with no hat, and his shirt was dirty but gleamed from a recent wash. The scent of perfume wafted through the room. A first-class dandy.

She turned her face away and touched her lips. As he passed by her, he praised her for avoiding the rain.

She stopped and turned to face him. She looked at him with her beautiful eyes, and he felt a pang of jealousy. She opened her mouth and said, “Please, God, protect me from this friend of mine. Even if you kill me, I won’t go near you again, sir!”

She then continued walking, and the rain kept pouring, soaking her clothes. She persevered, though, as their house was still some distance away.

Approaching the house gate, she spotted him coming out. She looked at him in shock, and he tried to approach her. She pushed him away and dashed into the house, running past him as he covered her back.

The young man bit his lip and hit the gate. Afili muttered to himself, “I love, I love Sophy.”

He turned around, inexplicably jealous of his brother. He couldn’t understand why he felt that way, even though they had met at the council several times.

Then, a teacher named Shewan and his friends began spreading rumors.

“Yes, haven’t you seen Ustaz in the palace of love?” one of his friends asked.

“Uhmmm,” he replied. “The tea shop owner there is frying an egg.”

“Is it love or trouble?” they wondered, as if trying to fathom the depth of their conversation. In anger, he interrupted them and silenced them.

Returning to the main story, he conquered the town with bravery and determination.

“Intaqamara is our money, and I hope it’s for the best. I don’t need to show you anything,” he proclaimed.

“Raf!! Raf!!!!!” People started to leave the area. “It’s mine… God bless you,” Amin replied, handing a 1k note to a supplicant.

Seeing this, the commotion subsided, and around 500 people began to disperse. They called out to him, and he responded with loud cheers.

When she entered her room, she discarded her hijab, chador, and shirt, replacing them with pants and a bra. As she looked for her towel to dry off, he noticed her and struggled to contain his feelings.

She should have been embarrassed as she had entered the room by accident. She draped a long hijab around herself and timidly asked, “Why didn’t the door stop you from entering the room directly?”

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