IZZAR MULKI Complete Document Written By Mrs Aliyu

 

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“Nasrin! Nasrin!! Nasrin!!! Please buy me a cigar so I can drink here.”

A girl not older than ten years old moved slowly, her face reflecting her reluctance. She approached and spoke softly, “Umma Kina called me, I answered, but then you called again.”

Umman retorted, “Well, Nasrin, your response was not in a manner that befits the situation.”

She replied, “Fine, don’t give me the money to buy cigarettes for you. I don’t want you to raise your voice so much.”

Nasrin took the money and left with her slow steps.

As she departed, another girl came running and yelled at her. Nasrin continued on without turning or apologizing. But she couldn’t restrain herself, and as the girl was about to enter the house, Nasrin returned.

With a sigh, she pointed at the girl and said, “You know who I am. You’d better watch where you step, or I’ll make you sorry.”

The panting girl managed, “There’s a war happening. The people from Gogar are fighting against our town’s King.”

Nasrin released her grip on Sauri and watched her dash towards their house. Dust began to cover the town, and Nasrin barely made it inside before everything was obscured. In the midst of the turmoil, she found her mother attempting to emerge from the house, and she embraced her tightly.

Her father entered, saying, “What about going to the city today? Just pray and head into the room.”

They went in and out,

The Battle of Bazata arrived at the Capital City of Samina, a battle that brought misery to the city.

The same fate befell the town that was defeated in the war, where the victors plundered their wealth and enslaved the impoverished populace, leading them away.

Nasrin and her mother sought refuge in their room, where Malam Iliya arrived and revealed, “We were defeated in battle. Our king wept. He saw women being taken…”

The sound of the door being pushed alerted them all. Several individuals, armed and armored, entered, and they seized Malam while tying his hands and offering threats.

Nasrin’s heart raced as she watched the scene unfold. She approached, demanding, “Who are you to do this to my father? Who sent you?”

One of the intruders slapped her, causing her to fall to the ground. Despite the pain, she rose quickly, fueled by her anger. She was about to retaliate when her mother held her back. The man declared, “I won’t kill you, but our King doesn’t allow us to kill children.”

Nasrin retorted, “That’s the only reason you’re telling me this.”

He advanced toward her, but Umma’s embrace restrained her, and the man left. Umma comforted her, saying, “I’m sorry, my girl, you’re still young.”

With determination, Nasrin stated, “I may be young, but I have a mind.”

The man remained silent, leaving with Malam in tow. Nasrin watched as the captives were led away.

As they were taken out, the people of the town were brought forth. Tearful husbands and wives lamented, but Nasrin was an exception. Rather than tears of sorrow, her eyes blazed with anger. Their king, mounted on a horse, surveyed the scene and instructed, “Go with them. I’ll lead the way, and you will follow.”

Having concluded the battle, he and his men departed.

Nasrin and Daji joined the captives, walking until the darkness of night descended, and Nasrin could barely see. She found her mother, struggling to emerge, and embraced her.

Their journey continued into the night, punctuated by prayers and pauses.

Amidst the slumber of the others, Nasrin, her Ummah, and Malam remained awake. Nasrin initiated a conversation, asking, “Umma, where are they taking us?”

Umma responded, “I don’t know, but what’s certain is that we’ve become their slaves.”

Nasrin contemplated their plight and muttered, “We have no say in this.”

Umma explained, “They are headed to Riga. They attacked our town, and our strength is diminished.”

Nasrin raised her hand, signaling for silence, and said, “Enough. Let’s rest and sleep.”

She discouraged them from speaking further, ensuring they retired to bed on empty stomachs.

Morning arrived, and Malam was the first to awaken. Nasrin and her Ummah followed suit, and Nasrin urged, “Let them pray.”

Sauram rose as well and led the prayer. Upon their completion, the march continued. Hunger gnawed at them, and thirst plagued them. Their lips were parched, yet they walked on, subsisting on meager fruits. Nasrin glanced at Malam, her heart heavy with pity. Would they find food? Uncertainty haunted her.

The captors, ignoring the captives’ needs, walked on until they reached nightfall. With their hands tied, they were given reprieve from the ice-cold journey. Malam suggested, “Let’s stop and pray.”

One of the captors sneered, “Hey, Mister, shut up! What are you talking about? If you speak again, I’ll kill you.”

Nasrin’s eyes flared, irritated by his tone.

Night fell, and they released them from the ice. Their hands remained bound. Malam addressed Nasrin, “Daughter of God, come and we will pray.”

Someone slung a makeshift bed on his back, and the captives proceeded to perform “Salar,” a prayer distinct from Salah.

Observing this, Nasrin devised a plan to assist them. She approached the man and helped him with the prayer.

As the captives settled down to sleep, Nasrin, her Ummah, and Malam remained awake. Nasrin questioned, “Umma, where are they taking us?”

Umma replied, “I don’t know, but it’s certain we’ve become their slaves.”

Nasrin offered, “We have nothing to lose.”

Umma sighed and advised, “Let’s get some rest, girl.”

In the morning, Malam was the first to rise, praying upon sighting the dawn. Nasrin and Ummah followed suit. As the journey continued, hunger persisted, and thirst remained unquenched. They pressed on, weakened and exhausted. Nasrin cast a look at Malam, her heart aching for him. What awaited them? She couldn’t help but feel for him.

The day went on, with Nasrin’s determination unwavering despite the hardships. As they walked, uncertainty loomed, and their futures remained shrouded in darkness. Yet, amidst the struggles, Nasrin’s spirit remained unyielding, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

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