The Meet-Cute (Digital Edition) It all started on Aisha's business page, 'The Abaya Vault.' Aisha had just dropped her "Eid Collection," and the comment section was moving at lightning speed. @Salma_Vibes: Aishalo! If I don't get this midnight blue velvet piece, consider our friendship over. 😭 Mashallah, the work is too neat! @Abubakar_01: It's actually navy, not midnight blue. @Salma_Vibes: @Abubakar_01 Oh, we have a color expert in the building? 🙄 Navy or midnight, it's still going to look better on me than in your gallery, Sir. @Abubakar_01: @Salma_Vibes Bold claim for someone just window shopping. The back-and-forth lasted for thirty minutes. Salma was witty, sharp, and didn't care that his profile picture was a blurred shot of a G-Wagon steering wheel. She thought he was just another "Abuja Big Boy" with too much data and too little to do. The "Joke" An hour later, Salma's DMs pinged. > Abubakar_01: Since you're the expert, screenshot the top five you think are actually worth the price. I want to see if your taste matches your mouth. > Salma laughed, adjusting her veil as she sat in her room in Yola. "This one thinks he's slick," she muttered. To play along with the "joke," she went back to Aisha's page and picked the most expensive, heavily hand-beaded pieces in the collection. > Salma_Vibes: [5 Images Attached] > Salma_Vibes: There. Don't faint when you see the total. I have expensive taste. 💅✨ > > Abubakar_01: Noted. > middle of the university walkway. Her heart did a weird flutter that had nothing to do with the Yola heat. She quickly opened Instagram and typed a message. > Salma_Vibes: You were serious? Abubakar, that was way too much. I was joking! > > Abubakar_01: I don't joke about investments. Consider it a thank you for the fashion advice. Now, are you going to send me a photo of the 'navy' one, or do I have to fly to Yola to see it myself?

Aaliyah has always lived by her rules - a serious, disciplined girl with exams to ace, dreams to chase, and a love for her friends and everything delicate in life. From the perfect henna on her hands to the careful planning of events, she thrives in order, in beauty, in quiet control. Ayzaan Hameed Al-Rashid, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. A force of nature wrapped in wealth, power, and unshakable confidence. A soldier and a general and a prince soon to be a king with a heart caged by anger, a man who commands respect and bends the world around him - yet knows no one can truly reach him. When their worlds unexpectedly collide in Kano - at a wedding, amidst laughter, celebrations, and family drama - neither of them knows how much their lives are about to change. She's tasked with caring for her best friend, managing delicate traditions, and navigating the excitement of girls' night and henna designs. He's reluctantly attending a wedding he didn't even want to come to, moving at a speed faster than the world can catch, commanding attention with every glance, every word, every action. A handful of events. Endless sparks. Friendships tested. Loyalties challenged. And in the middle of it all, Aaliyah and Ayzaan begin to see each other - not as strangers, not as acquaintances, but as forces that could either collide or entwine. In a city where traditions meet modern chaos, where families hold power and secrets, and where one glance can change everything, how will two completely different worlds survive... or succumb to the pull between them? Romance. Drama. Friendship. Power. Chaos. Step into a world where nothing is simple, and hearts don't follow the rules.

Kamilla runs down the stairs, her fingers clutching her dress to prevent it from trailing behind her. she's about to walk down completely when his voice stops her. "Princess" He calls out in a raspy voice and she freezes. Kamilla doesn't turn to stare at him or acknowledge him and that only seems to irk him more. 'Princess' Calls me that like he cares. 'Good, it should' she says internally. "Go and change" He instructs and instantly her pulse beats at his words and she finds herself exhaling slowly before turning to face him. "who are you to tell me what to do" She spits eyes glaring in his direction but she doesn't maintain eye contact. Sadiq's eyes narrow and he walks closer, his steps predatory. "Your husband" He states matter of factly and she scoffs. "Husband?.." Kamilla pauses for dramatic effect. "Husband to who exactly, is It to the woman you left alone in a rediculously big house or the wife you haven't so much as touched since you got married?" By the end of her sentence, she has her arms folded across her chest as she glares at the rediculously handsome figure in front of her. he might be known as the 'Amir' outside and a crown prince but in here she's his queen. "You want me to touch you princess" His voice is low and sultry as he licks his bottom lip while his gaze remains fixated on her. kamilla's breath gets caught in her throat and heat instantly raises up her cheeks. defiant she raises her chin. "I..We weren't talking about that" She stutters trying to brush it off. Amir Sadiq's face suddenly turns serious as he stands straighter. "Come here princess" He orders in a sharp voice. "Never knew my princess craved for my touch" He mutters low enough. _____ Kamilla Bello never thought that from juggling her daily life in a cafe she sets out in the outskirts of the city with her best friend shed suddenly be wedded off to a man. Not any man but him. Amir J.S.E.H. The man whose name is whispered and a man whose power suffocates,

In a home where love was a currency, she was always bankrupt. Her parents' affection was reserved for the twin who reflected their every hope, leaving her to inherit the hushed comparisons and soft dismissals. She was constantly reminded of her lesser worth, but she never imagined her marriage would be a cast-off from the twin who was truly desired. Offered as a consolation prize, she expects only disappointment in a loveless union. Yet, the journey of marriage becomes an unexpected path to self-discovery. The Color Of My Own Sky is a story of the invisible bruises that shape a soul, and the battle to finally find the courage to paint your own brilliant horizon. Nov. 3 ©deey_jah

Anwar was already moving toward her. "Anwar... don't," she whispered. His hand reached for her veil. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as panic took over. "Keep quiet!" he shouted, his voice thunderous, shaking the room. She fought back, pushing at his chest, struggling with everything she had. Fear made her hands shake, but she didn't stop resisting. Her breaths came fast and broken as she tried to escape his grip. his father's call came through and puts it on speaker. "What is happening there?" his father demanded. "Who is screaming like that?" Anwar didn't hesitate. "It's my wife-to-be." Nayara opened her mouth to speak, to scream for help-but Anwar's voice cut her off. "Stay quiet," he warned sharply. On the line, his father's voice exploded, ordering him to stop whatever he was doing. Anwar ignored him. Instead, he picked up his phone again and dialed another number. It rang twice. "Nayara?" her father's tense voice came through. "Where are you? Why aren't you home?" She tried to answer. "She's with me," Anwar said instead. There was a pause. "Who are you?" her father asked. "Her husband-to-be." "What nonsense is this?" her father snapped. Anwar's voice turned cold. "I don't have time. My father is on the line. I want to marry Nayara immediately." Both men started shouting at once through the speaker. Anwar leaned closer to Nayara, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Tell him." She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. He raised his voice again. "I want her as my wife. Decide now." His father roared through the phone, furious, ordering him to step back. Anwar didn't move. "I'd rather touch her as my wife," he said calmly into the phone, "than do something I won't take responsibility for. If you refuse this marriage, don't expect me to change my mind." Nayara let out a broken scream. Her father's voice cracked as he demanded, "What do you want?" Anwar answered without hesitation. "Marry her to me. Now."

I've learned that healing isn't a straight line. It doesn't happen all at once, and it doesn't come with instructions. Some days you feel strong, like you've moved past the pain. Other days, the same memories still find you But healing, for me, has been about showing up anyway. It's been about allowing yourself to feel without judging those feelings. About understanding that breaking didn't mean you are weak, it means you're human. I've learned to give myself grace. To stop rushing my growth. To understand that rest is not quitting, and silence is not failure. Healing taught me that I don't need to erase my past to move forward. I carry it with me, not as a burden, but as proof that I survived. And every day you choose to keep going, even when it's hard, You're healing slowly, honestly, and in your own time. (Welcome to Zainab & Muhsin's story)

"I can never get married to you.i deserve better.he said with his usual screwed up face which always makes his handsome face have wrinkles. "today,here and now I promise you that you will come and plead with me to get married to you.Nawal trying to nurse her bruised ego. she felt hurt at the blunt refusal he just displayed.she felt rejected and all alone . she saw no reason why they all kept playing with her mind and feelings. Jabbar would have laughed at her silly statement if not for the kind of person he is and the kind of personality he posses. all he knows how to do is prove he is perfect and deserves everything to be perfect. he's demanding. "that day has not been created and it will never be". he said and walked out with his guards behind him.his walking imitates order, his speech is final and his look is commanding. that's just how he is.always daring. stay tuned to find out how the love story of an arrogant prince and a common girl goes on when lies, secrets, deceit and evil lies ahead of them. don't allow to be gisted stay and read about this exciting love story on your own.

A few minutes into the walk, I heard footsteps shuffling behind me. I tensed up and halted in my tracks. My heart began to pound violently in my chest. I felt too afraid to even do anything. I stayed glued to my spot, but that didn't stop the footsteps from approaching. Mustering all of the courage left in me, I spun around and to my utmost horror, two men - more like thugs were standing just few inches away from me. Ya Allah, please protect me! I don't want to die like this. I spun back around and started walking, my pace increasing rapidly. "Hey! Where the f*** do you think you're going, bit**" One of the men slurred. By the tone of his voice, I could tell he was tipsy or high. The rate of my fear intensified. MANAL ❤ ©2019

STARTED FEBRUARY 27TH 2020 FINISHED NOVEMBER 27TH 2020 EDITING IN PROGRESS #2 solider as of 27th November 2020 #7 Islam as of 27th November 2020 #2 Hausa as of 7th February 20201 This story follows the life's of two different people with different personalities,morals and values. It's all about love trust and honesty. Nafisa is a Fulani girl who comes from a very large family with many uncles aunts and lots of cousins. She finds herself in a marriage with a man she hardly knows. Only met him a couple of times in her life which was during her cousin's wedding whom is also her BFF. Although she didn't love he she didn't hate him either she didn't see the question coming her great uncle sits her down to as her if she accepts the marriage with a second thought she agrees. Which brings us back to Umar (jay) he is what every girl love the ladies man what many men want to be. He broke the great record of the Nigerian army by being the first Field Marshall in the history of Nigerian army. At the age of thirty two he still remains a bachelor single and hasn't been in a relationship before his belief is that when it's time he will find the one for him meant to be his. Some say he is arrogant,too full of him self. Follow me to find out of he really is like that. Please all the media you will find in this book does not belong to me credit goes to their respective owners. This is a hausa stroy written in hausa language but some parts are in English please do give this a try.