DAN DAUDU KO DAN LUWADI Complete Document Written By Aisha Biciki


SABITU, a dashing young man of at least 27, and his six friends were perched on the curb outside their friend’s shop, engaged in their usual banter. They were accustomed to conversing openly, regardless of the passing cars. Today, as they sat in their familiar row, a splendid car pulled up before them, its value surpassing all expectations. Sabitu found himself daydreaming that it was he in that very car, accompanied by his new girlfriend, strolling through town. His reverie was interrupted by his friend Nasir, who yanked him back to the present.

“You moron, what’s gotten into you?” Nasir chastised, his gaze fixed on the vehicle. They all longed to catch a glimpse of the affluent owner, well aware that it wasn’t just any ordinary person driving.

As the car came to a halt, a young woman emerged. All of them stood transfixed, unable to move as they beheld her arresting presence. She halted before them and implored, “Excuse me, I have a question!”

Nasir promptly responded, “Go ahead and ask, there’s no one around here we don’t know.”

Gratified by the assurance, she inquired, “Do you know Alhaji Ma’aruf’s house?”

Before anyone could speak, Sabitu interjected, “Let me guide you to our neighbor’s house.”

Nasir announced that he had to depart, knowing that Sabitu wouldn’t be comfortable accompanying her alone, while the rest of their group were unmarried. They stood there, observing the distinctive scent emanating from the car, all the while peering inside at the intriguing interior.

As they escorted her to the doorstep, Sabitu assumed the role of the guide to Alhaji Ma’aruf’s residence. Alhaji Ma’aruf was a prominent figure in the entire neighborhood, known for his considerable wealth. The young woman cast a perplexing glance at Sabitu, causing his heart to flutter. With an alluring smile, she uttered, “Thank you so much, but you haven’t told me your name.”

Sabitu, rendered speechless, was at a loss for words. Nasir stepped in and introduced them. She averted her gaze and stated, “Mr. Sabitu, your number’s here,” handing him her expensive phone. Before he could say a word, he found himself accepting it and entering his digits. She didn’t spare him another glance as she headed inside, not bothering to thank him.

Sabitu leaned against the adjacent wall, his breaths coming in rapid succession. Nasir jested, “How’s the man? Looks like you’re melting.” Nasir chuckled, “Head on home and unwind; I understand your predicament. It’s the allure that’s got your blood boiling.” With that, he concluded his jest, leaving Sabitu to ruminate on the encounter.

Upon entering the house, he detected the smell of fes. Even as he greeted everyone, he refrained from stepping into the living room. Suwaiba, engrossed in the small TV, glanced up at him. “You can’t escape it; go in and study.”

Sabitu’s father passed by him and entered their bedroom. His entire network appeared to be in shambles. His only desire was to have Suwaiba by his side. He closed his eyes, contemplating who to call to assuage his agony. Sabitu felt no remorse; Suwaiba was his wife, yet somehow she wasn’t enough for him. They were constantly at odds.

He was about to ignore an incoming call from an unknown number when he thought better of it and answered it.

“My name is Saleema, but you can call me Leema.”

He recognized the hoarse voice instantly, yet found himself captivated by its charm. In a detached tone, he replied, “I don’t understand who you’re referring to.”

A surge of relief washed over him. “Oh, it’s just a form of gratitude.”

“We’ve been hard at work since I roused you from your rest.”

Sabitu chuckled lightly and remarked, “The ‘work’ was hardly worth the trouble.”

Saleema’s smile echoed through the line as she quipped, “But did you ever question why I accepted your number?”

As he lay there, thoughts of his entrapment weighed heavily on his mind. Despite being able to speak to him, he was impoverished, unable to even sustain himself. His clothing was provided by his mother, highlighting his destitution. His reverie was interrupted by Saleema’s confession, “Since I laid eyes on you, I’ve been smitten.”

Embracing the pillow, Sabitu inquired, “What did you say?”

She giggled and suggested, “Let’s chat tonight.”

Zumudi, overjoyed, failed to realize that the phone had been disconnected. A burst of exuberant shouts drew Suwaiba into the room. Witnessing his elation, she halted in her tracks, crestfallen. “May God grant you happiness, Sabitu. I share in your joy,” she uttered, her disappointment palpable as she retreated, leaving him lying there, grinning from ear to ear.


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