So close, yet so far

17

ABUJA, NIGERIA
14 years ago

Hajiya Firdausi's eyes followed Bilal as he stumbled past their house, his footsteps wavering beneath the weight of intoxication. For a month, she had watched him, pity growing within her. Tonight, she decided to act.

"Sadiya, help me pick him up," she said to her maid.

Together, they guided Bilal into their home, his incoherent mutterings filling the air. Hajiya Firdausi instructed Sadiya to prepare a room for their unexpected guest.

As Bilal recovered, Hajiya Firdausi learned about his troubled past. His mother had abandoned him at birth, leaving him with a father who barely cared. His father's subsequent marriages and numerous affairs had created a chaotic household. Bilal grew up surrounded by strangers, never experiencing the stability of a loving family.

His father's behaviour had a profound impact on Bilal. He craved attention, seeking validation in harmful ways. The constant stream of women in his father's life objectified and demeaned, warping Bilal's perception of relationships.

Hajiya Firdausi's kindness and compassion were a balm to Bilal's wounded soul. For the first time, he felt seen, heard, and understood. It took nearly three months, but eventually, Bilal's addiction began to fade.

Or so it seemed.

Unbeknownst to Hajiya Firdausi, Bilal's transformation was a ruse. Behind his newfound sobriety, a darker obsession brewed. He became fixated on the woman who had saved him, his gratitude warping into an unnatural desire.

Hajiya Firdausi, however, saw only the good in Bilal. She took him under her wing, treating him like a son. Alhaji Gimba, her husband, shared her optimism, and soon, they began to consider Bilal as a potential suitor for their young daughter, Hauwa.

Bilal's façade held strong for almost a year. He played the part of the reformed man, earning the Gimba family's trust. But beneath the surface, his true nature seethed.

One fateful day, Alhaji Gimba and the children were away, leaving Hajiya Firdausi and little Hauwa alone at home. Bilal saw his chance.

"Mama, I need to speak with you," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Hajiya Firdausi, sensing unease, tried to brush him off. "Later, Bilal. I'm busy."

But he wouldn't be deterred. He cornered her in the living room, his eyes blazing with a mix of lust and anger.

"You promised me, Mama," he snarled. "You promised to marry me to Hauwa, but I want you. I want you now."

Hajiya Firdausi's eyes widened in horror as Bilal's hands closed around her waist.

"No, Bilal! Kana hauka ne; are you mad?!"

He ignored her pleas, forcing himself upon her. Hajiya Firdausi's screams were drowned out by Bilal's guttural grunts.

Little Hauwa, witnessing the horror, froze in terror.

Just as Bilal's violence escalated, the sound of the front door opening echoed. Alhaji Gimba and the children had returned.

Bilal's mask slipped, revealing the monster beneath. He fled, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

Alhaji Gimba's world crumbled around him. His wife, his rock, lay broken and still. He cradled her lifeless body, his mind reeling with grief and rage.

He promised her justice after Bilal had gone back to his father. But justice proved elusive. The Maigoro family's influence and power shielded Bilal from accountability. Alhaji Gimba's cries for justice fell on deaf ears.