Destined Hearts

Destined Hearts

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Publikasi terakhir Rab, Jan 28, 2026

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Muhammad thought of Madeenah as a child, younger than his baby sister, although way more mature. She seemed to have created a bond with his daughter and that was all that came to his mind about her. Not her smooth caramel skin, or her captivating light brown eyes and neither did her sweet voice do it for him. Madeenah thought of Ya Muhammad as an arrogant and stoic person but a really good father. In truth she was terrified of him. She hated the way he would look at her, as though she was less important than him. She hated the way he never spoke unless he needed to. She hated the way his voice washed over her, making her shiver. She hated his height and how it made him tower over her small frame. She hated him but she just couldn't stop thinking about him. So what happens when the two end up being brought together by an unusual arrangement . He's older, she's younger. He has a daughter and she has barely begun life. Will he let go of the past and try to find happiness or will he drag her down with him? --------------------------------------- "Let's get married." He says with such a straight face that I feel stupid as I chuckle. "What did you just say?" I ask in disbelief. "You heard me Madeenah." He says in a gravelly tone. "Why would you want to marry me?" I shake my head. "You don't like me." "I like you well enough to be married to you." His broad shoulders shrug in his familiar black suit. What is going on with him? And what have I gotten myself into?

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When Silence Breaks (Hausa Story)

They say a woman's success means nothing if she doesn't end up married. I used to laugh at that. Quietly. The kind of laughter that doesn't escape your lips, because you don't have time for arguments that go nowhere. My name is Ibtihal. I'm twenty-eight. I have two degrees, a corner office in Abuja, and enough money to make my own choices - or so I thought. But in a house where my mother prays more for my marriage than for my health, and my father treats every holiday like a matchmaking summit, my silence eventually became an agreement. Not because I was in love. Not even because I believed in the institution. But because I was tired. Tired of being the "too focused" one. The "still not married" one. The "career is not companionship" one. So I said yes. To a man I didn't know. A man who barely looked at me during the introduction. A man who, as I later found out, had someone else waiting for him - someone he actually loved. But he said yes too, because his uncle - the man who raised him after he lost his parents - asked him to. A year, we agreed. A year of pretending. No expectations. No intimacy. No emotional strings. Just two people performing tradition so the noise would stop. And I was fine with that. More than fine, actually. I didn't want love. I didn't want mess. I wanted space to breathe and be left alone. But then, something changed. It wasn't dramatic. There were no candlelit moments or sudden heartbeats. It was subtle - the way he started looking at me like I wasn't just a deal. The way my name sounded different coming from his lips. The way I began to notice his silence... and miss it when it wasn't there. I didn't mean to fall. And I don't think he meant to either. But here we are - trapped in a marriage neither of us wanted... now tangled in feelings neither of us planned for. And for the first time in my life, I'm not so sure I want to be left alone anymore.