If my drafts finish Muna ruwa😂😂

SAADATU'S POV.

KANO, NIGERIA.

Turns out looking for a husband is difficult. Even more so when you're doing it with a time-frame of seven days. At first, my mind was blank, wondering where exactly I could start this mission of mine, but I soon realized it was a stupid notion.

It would've been easier if I'm a guy. I'll just find one beautiful girl in the family and say I want to marry her, easy as that. But, no. I'm a lady, and in this society, professing my love or desire to marry a guy is seen as very un-lady like so I realized soon enough I hit a dead end. And it's not like I had any ex that I can call up. Even then, what would I tell them?

"Oh, hey! Kwana da yawa. So, I know we've broken up years ago and all, but do you want to get married? I've been given a week ultimatum and I don't have anyone so come and marry me please."

Yeah, no. That doesn't sound like a good idea in the slightest.

Then another stupid thought crossed my mind. Abi I should just write it on a card 'LOOKING FOR A RICH, HANDSOME, AND RELIGIOUS MAN' like they do on Instagram and TikTok and hold it by the highway in case someone would see and show interest?

As tempting as it sounds—by now you should know I like stupid decisions as much as I have wild imaginations—it's a huge no. Yaaya would disown me if I dare try that, and would probably end up marrying me off to one of his old friends or something like that so I can get some sense knocked into me. So, like I said, a huge NO. Unfortunately.

I'm screwed. I realized that even more when I'm down to two days and no husband in sight, but a growing ball of worry. I've been avoiding Yaaya, not that I could do much since we live in the same house and all. But, aside from greeting him every day, I avoid any form of conversations that may lead to my predicament being brought up.

Anty on the other hand has been supportive, as much as a mother can be.

"Nima dai ba son Hassan dinnan nake ba," She said, after my conversation with Faiza the other day when I went to rant to her. As refreshing as it feels to discuss this with my best friend, I know no one would understand me the way my mother would.

I could not explain in words the relief I felt upon hearing those words escape Anty's lips. It's good to know I'm not the only one feeling that way regarding the man.

She continued from where she was seated on the praying mat, her gaze fixed on my figure that's sprawled on her bed, "Your aunt has been pushing the issue further, I guess that's why he caved in." She said referring to Hassan's mother, Yaaya's elder, and only sister. The one witch in my family—no offense. "But don't worry, if you don't like Hassan, I'm certain he won't marry you off to him. Shima ba so yakeyi ki tafi ba, I don't know what suddenly got into him with the marriage talk and all." She added a slight shake to her head, as if what's going in her husband's mind is nothing but a mystery to her as well.

The conversation with her, although raised more questions that had me wondering what's up with my father's sudden interest in my marriage, lessened some of my worries. It's good to know she has my back in this, and in the long run, even if I failed to bring a man of my choice—which seems to be my fate at the moment, knowing she has a say in who I would end up marrying made me feel relieved.

She has good choices. Yaaya does too, but his mind is a world of it's own at the moment. There's no telling what's in it.

Deciding staying in my house 24/7 won't solve a thing for once, I asked Anty's permission to step out. Yaaya usually doesn't have a problem so long as we tell Anty and we make sure to return before six pm. Besides, he's currently not in the house, he's at my step mother's who luckily lives in another area. She is another issue on her own, story for another day.

"Gidan Ya Mama nakeso naje," I said to Anty, as I went to ask for permission to go out. "I haven't seen her since Faiza's wedding."

It's true, though partially. I do want to visit Ya Mama, but not because I miss her or anything. I do, but I need an escape from my house and the literal first person that comes to my mind is she. Perhaps, if Yaya Maryam stays in Kano, then I would've went to her house but since she's not, Ya Mama is the one I have left.

Plus, she has a cute baby that would solve all my problems.

Anty gave her approval almost instantly, seeing who the woman in the picture is. Safe to say, Ya Mama has taken Yaya's place in Anty's life as her eldest child while Yaya had filled in the shoes for Hajiya. Kind of like they've swapped kids—so they joke about.

"Muazu is about to leave and pick up Humaira from school daman. Go with him, if he drops you, then he'll pick her up." She added, her mind going to her last born that has just started primary school.

I wanted to comment on how I'd rather take a Keke Napep than enter the same car as Muazu, but I kept my lips sealed, choosing to not say a thing instead and risk getting scolded by her. Going back to my room, I picked the first chiffon veil in sight that goes along with my ankara gown, throwing it over my shoulder. Fixing my headtie back in place, I sprinkled a bit of perfume, picked up my phone and made a dash for it.

I stopped by to bid Anty farewell, not before picking up one of her shoes and wearing it, to which I scolded for but since when have I ever listened. I don't exactly have a sister to steal her stuff, I'm just glad Anty's shoes does the job just well.

Outside, I found Muazu, the driver at the gate, chatting away with the gate man. I notified him of the outing, but of course, Muazu being, well, Muazu took his sweet time before he came, acting as if I'm asking him for a favor to take me somewhere. Believe me, no matter how nice you are, this man will annoy you to no end.

Luckily, we managed to make it to Ya Mama's house without him getting on my nerves more than he already has. And the minute I stepped out, he zoomed off to go and fetch Anty's favorite child from school. Making it past the threshold, I stepped into the house that has become my go-to in Kano, even though I haven't been there in over a year. In actuality, I haven't been here since she gave birth to her daughter.

Between studying in another state and spending all my holidays locked up in my room, I haven't exactly made time to visit her. We only meet when she visits, and I could count on one hand how many times it's been. I'm due for visiting.

The scent of turaren wuta welcomed me almost instantly, similar to that at Hajiya's. Her daughter indeed, the Maiduguri attitude is just rolling in waves. Making my way further in, I couldn't make it to the living room when a familiar voice called out.

"A'a, who am I seeing in my house yau kuma?"

Turning around, I spotted Ya Mama in the kitchen, along with her maid as she prepared food for the afternoon I guess. Plastering a wide smile on my face, I made my way towards the kitchen. "Ya Mama." I called out, hoping the grin would get her to not tease me.

Who am I kidding?

"Gaya min gaskiya," Ya Mama playfully narrowed her eyes at me. "Batan hanya kikayi?"

"No, of course not." Upon reaching where she is, I extended my hand out towards the baby in her arms. "I'm here for this little angel." I took the sleeping fifteen-month old from her mother, resting her head in the crook of my neck as she carried on with her slumber.

"Of course you are." Ya Mama rolled her eyes. "Why is everyone here because of her?"

"Ina wuni Anty Walida?" Her house maid, the little girl no more than fourteen greeted, crouching slightly.

I offered her a smile. "Lafiya qalau, ya kike?"

"Alhamdullilah."

"Just bring the coolers to the dining room," Ya Mama instructed the young girl, who nodded before she shifted her attention to me. "Walida me zaki ci? I have fried rice and peppered chicken. I've made dambun zogale as well, remind me to give you some to take to Anty when you leave, nasan she loves it. Which one do you want?"

"None." I shook my head, "Naci abinci kafin na fito."

"Water? Soft drinks? There's ginger drink too if you prefer it."

"Wallahi nagode. I'm full."

She gave me a look that showed she doesn't believe me, but she'll let it slide. She bobbed her shoulders. "Well, when you decide to eat, you know your way around the kitchen." She took a few steps further. "Let's go to the living room. We have a lot to catch up on. I heard a little something from Faiza a few days ago." She gave me a knowing look, and a teasing smile that shows she knows what predicament I'm in.

"Of course she told you." I don't even know if I should be upset Faiza shared my situation with Ya Mama, or to be relieved I'll have someone else give me their advice on this all because I need all the mental strength I could get.

My sister isn't exactly much of a help. If anything, Yaya sounds over the moon excited that I'll be married off to someone and wouldn't have to return to her house and be sleeping in all day. She can be annoying when she wants to be really.

"Do you mind sharing?" Ya Mama's words were low, her tone warm as she gave me a look that showed she's willing to lend me a listening ear.

"Depends." I bobbed my shoulders. "Will you find me a husband that's not Hassan, is good looking, rich, and religious afterwards?" I joked.

She chuckled lightly. "Who know? Maybe I will."

I could only hum, not giving much thought to the little exchange because it really is just a joke to me. Regardless, that was how I found myself narrating the story back to Ya Mama, even though I'm certain Faiza has told her everything already. It didn't hurt to recount, especially not if that recounting ended up with calling Faiza over video call just so she can join in on the conversation.

"You see your life," Faiza tutted from the other end, and I instantly regretted allowing Ya Mama to call her. "Leave your house, you won't. How will you find a man? Will he fall through the ceiling?"

"Miracles happen." I patted the back of the sleeping baby in my arms, earning an eye roll from the lady.

Ya Mama chuckled. "Yanxu ai gashi ta fito." Folding her legs on the couch, she faced me completely, though her tablet rests on the coffee table in front, from which Faiza's annoying face pops. "But really, now that you only have two days left, what do you plan on doing?"

I shrugged, releasing a sigh. "Just go with the flow. It's not like I have much choice or anything." If having this conversation with them has done anything, it's to remind me that my childish attempts at solving it are futile. It's best to just leave it in the hands of Allah and pray for the best. "I've prayed, Allah ya zaba min mafi alkhairi kawai."

"Ameen. That's what you should've done from the beginning." Ya Mama pointed out. "Prayer does wonders. Who knows? You might just end up being lucky your father made this decision."

"I would've have more faith in that if I knew who I'd end up marrying." I stated, reaching out to pick up the can of Coca Cola I'd ended up fetching. "Or if I was the one that brought him myself." My biggest issue now is not knowing who the husband is.

"What if you do bring him yourself?" Faiza inquired, as if she hasn't been part of this conversation for the past thirty minutes. "Just bring a husband you know and you're at ease with."

I offered her a wide, sarcastic smile. "Wow, why didn't I think of that?"

Faiza ignored the sarcasm, then carried on as if she has the logical solution to all this. "I'm just saying, what if I give you a husband?"

"Will you give me your husband?" I teased, knowing it'll get under her skin.

And it did, she glared at me. "God forbid bad thing." She waved it off. Shifting her attention to Ya Mama, she added. "Ya Mama, what if we have the perfect man for her? Someone that's single as well."

Ya Mama's brows furrowed. "Who are we talking about again?"

Faiza grinned mischievously. "Yaya mana."

Unable to help myself, I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, right." I brought the can to my lips, taking a sip of it while maintaining the grin on my face. When silence ensued, I lifted my gaze to rest it on the both of them staring at me expectantly. My grin fell. "You're joking...right?"

"Nope!"

"Now that I think about it, that's a good idea really." Somehow, even Ya Mama bought this idea, seeming convinced.

"Bad idea." I shook my head, eyes wide. "No offense to you both, but no way."

"Why the hell not?" Faiza shot, her eyes narrowed. "He's single." I doubt it. "Good looking, rich, and religious." That, I don't doubt. But, I still can't be convinced.

"Like I said, no way." I repeated, sounding more determined. Perhaps, if she made this offer two months ago before I met him again at her wedding, I would've given a different answer. But, I've seen who that man is in real, and I want no part of it. "Never happening."

"What's wrong with him?" Ya Mama jumped in, and I wish she hadn't because I could have this conversation with Faiza comfortably, but not her.

I'm praying deep down with every fiber of my being that Faiza doesn't blabber the fact that I've had a crush on their elder brother for years like a fool. It wouldn't help with the stand I'm taking.

"Nothing is wrong with him." I responded, since Ya Mama's the one asking. I can't tell her what I think about her brother, that he's stuck up and just isn't someone I'd rather be anywhere near, much less, marry.

Nahi, a indian ce. Nahi baccha.

When both women pinned their gazes on me, as if they wouldn't take no for an answer, I found myself exhaling, then went on to elaborate. "He's just...not my type of man."

Faiza snorted, knowing I'm spewing absolute shit. She of all people knows that's an absolute lie. She got a first-hand experience of me crushing like the teenager I was. Thankfully, she didn't sell me out in front of Ya Mama.

"Try again." Ya Mama gave me a look, as if she doesn't believe my words as well.

I sighed, sinking back into the couch. "Really." I don't have any excuse to give, but I'm not caving in. "He's really not my type, we wouldn't work. And I'd rather it be anyone than him," Upon catching the two siblings gaze, I offered them a sheepish grin and added. "No offense." I took a sip of my coke.

"Who is not your type?" A voice came from behind, interrupting our conversation.

Darting our eyes in the direction of the entrance of the living room, my gaze fell on Ya Mama's husband, stepping in with a warm smile on his face. I offered him a smile back, but the smile fell upon seeing the man that strolled in with him. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, just in type Ya Mama chirped in.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. He's here as well." She had a witty grin on her face as she gestured to her brother that strolled in his glory.

Adnan Bayero in the flesh ladies and gentlemen.

I choked on the coke.

*****

This has been my favorite chapter so far, I've reread it one too many times already har ba haddace easy parts in😂😭

I loveeee Ya Mama😭 Kai I love my Bayero siblings as a whole!

Toh su adnanu an iso, we meet again sunan wani cdrama😂 do you think they heard them? What will you do if you were in her shoes?

How do you love this book so far?

What is your favorite thing about it?

What do you look forward to?

How much do you love Saadatu? I sha love her because she's basically me tbh 😂😂 gave her 90 percent of my character 😂

Toh I'll see you in the next chapter. Comment abeg before I bring iyalawo here. Also, I saw someone using my Iyalawo's name in her book a while ago. Sis I own full copyright of iyalawo, na me invent my imaginary old witch , Yawwa a kiyaye Dan Allah a rage copying🙂

Love love love y'all❤️❤️❤️❤️

Love, Your Favorite writer because I too sabi write!!!!!!!😂😂😂

Jannah Mia❤️🦋