Chapter One

Despite the country, Bashasa, being relatively safe, the Yusufs continued their conquests, even forcing the royal family to abandon Bello’s residence and return to Abdullahi’s home. However, the turmoil never ceased; it was as if the dog had been sold, only to be replaced by a monkey. The strife and warfare persisted until Rabeh’s incursions reached the Hausa territory.

The women of Kano faced harassment from neighboring regions like Damagaran, Hadeja, and Ningi, and the strained relations between the King of Alu and the Ottoman Empire, both foreign powers, added to their woes. Between 1314 and 1324, these incessant conflicts led to a decline in the slave trade.

When Iro arrived home, he found his friend Jabiru, the king of Baka, sitting in the hall as though he had no mud on his body. Iro greeted him as he entered.

“Jabiru, you look unwell,” Iro inquired as he approached his friend.

Jabiru raised his head and gave Iro a weary look. “Iro, I’m fine,” he replied. “What brings you here?”

“Just checking up on you,” Iro said. “I thought you were already getting ready to go.”

“I’m just preparing to head out for some shopping,” Jabiru replied.

“Alright then, I’m outside waiting for you,” Iro said before stepping out of the room.

Iro stood outside with his donkey, waiting for Jabiru. When Jabiru finally emerged with his donkey, he noticed Iro adjusting his clothes and seemed preoccupied.

“Jabiru, you seem troubled. Are you feeling unwell?” Iro asked with concern.

Jabiru sighed and replied, “I’m fine, but I can’t stop thinking about a girl I saw.”

Iro looked intrigued. “A girl? What’s her name?”

“I don’t know her name, but I saw her at the Dausayi market.”

Iro nodded. “Well, if you’re interested, why don’t you go and talk to her? Find out her grandmother’s name, and you can make your intentions known.”

Jabiru hesitated, then confessed, “I don’t know her name. I’ve seen her twice but never had a chance to speak to her.”

Iro chuckled. “So you’ve seen her but never talked to her? I’ll go to the market today. If you see her, let me know, and I’ll create an opportunity for you to talk to her.”

Jabiru blushed, admitting, “I’ve seen her at the market too.”

“Alright, take your time today, and I’ll introduce you to my girlfriend, the one I want to marry. She’s from Palestine.”

Jabiru was puzzled. “Are you trying to set us up?”

Iro laughed. “Why not? I’m ready for anything. Let’s head to the market.”

As they walked to the market, Iro and Jabiru conversed. Iro asked, “Did you sell your goats yesterday?”

Jabiru nodded and handed over five keso coins to Iro. “Yes, I did. Here’s your share. You’re always there to help me out.”

Iro and Jabiru were close friends who shared a deep bond, despite their different professions. Iro was a weaver, while Jabiru was known for his expertise in traditional medicine, especially for the warriors renowned for their bravery in battle.

Their friendship had started when they were both fourteen and attending school in the Barno region. Fate had united them, and their hearts harbored a genuine affection for each other.

Every market day, they ventured to the market together, assisting each other with their respective responsibilities. Today was no different.

Upon reaching the bustling Hantsi market, they joined the throngs of people, each laden with goods, whether carried in bags, sacks, or atop camels. It was a thriving market favored by both traders and buyers alike, boasting an abundance of goods and a multitude of shoppers.

After unloading their goods and greeting their neighbors, they headed to Jabiru’s hut. There, they prepared for the day’s activities. Jabiru tethered his donkey to a nearby tree and offered it some rice and water.

As they continued to prepare, Jabiru was the first to spot her—a girl wearing an abaya. His heart swelled with hope and affection, leaving him momentarily breathless. She was accompanied by some Fulani girls, her friends, who had also brought their wares to the Kenan market.