After Rahma left Malam Dalha's house, she walked back home with the empty silver bowl. She had a wide smile etched on her face because though she's just a small girl, she knew that she just made a friend. The girl is just five years old so she never cared about not having any friends. However, having one does feel good.

She walked into the small house she and her parents live in. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear the commotion coming from inside the house. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the scene in front of her. Her doe eyes widened slightly as she blinked trying to decipher what is going on.

"Da Allah kimin shiru!" The man in front of her mother slurred, his words coming out a bit jumbled as he swayed slightly.

Her mother said something she didn't understand, mostly because her attention wasn't focused on her mother's words but on the tears streaming down her mother's face. She was beyond confused because when she went out, her mother was smiling and now, just a couple of minutes afterwards, she's crying. "Mama" she mumbled but none of them heard her nor notice her presence.

Rahma watched her parents. Her father without a doubt is drunk as always judging by the bottle of liquor he held in his hand while her mother is crying which is weird. She had never seen her cry. Times without number, she saw her with red eyes and puffy face but then again, she's just five. What does she know that will help her decipher the situation her parents are in?

"Useless woman! Common male child you cannot give me" her father yelled and in a blink of an eye he had swung the beer bottle in his hand, successfully hitting her mother with it in the process.

The silver bowl in her hand fell. "Mama!" she yelled as her small feet move don their own accord and soon enough, she was sitting beside her mother with her small hands wrapped around her mother for protection. Her mother still sobbing wrapped her hand around her daughter shielding her away from the monster in the form of a human being. Her blood covered hands from the wound he gave her on the head staining the little girl's hijab but it was the least of their concerns at the moment.

Her drunkard of a father took a step back and watched the two with one of his hands under his chin and the other on his hips, "Oh Allah!Kaga wannan abun kuma!" he exclaimed before hissing loudly. He stormed towards them and yanked Rahma's arm detaching her away from her mother. He carelessly pushed the five-year-old on the floor like a discarded shirt.

Rahma winced out of pain as she bruised her arm. Her eyes welled up with tears as her lips wobbled.

Her mother snapped her head in the direction of her daughter. She attempted to move towards her daughter and comfort her despite the fact that the side of her head her husband hit her is now bleeding. She could feel her gaze start to blur but she knew she had to save her daughter. The man has no sense of remorse whatsoever. He wouldn't think twice about hurting the little girl.

The man grasped her hair and tugged her back and pushed her just like he did to their little girl. He didn't even bother to spare her a glance one more time as he turned to his daughter, "Keh! Don't you know that when adults are in the middle of a conversation you shouldn't interrupt them iye?!" he yelled as he slowly made his way towards the girl that started to scramble away in fear.

He scares her. His bloodshot eyes and the way he slurs whenever he talks only made him look like the monsters she heard people talking about. From the way he treated her mother just a few minutes ago she knew the man has lost his sanity. Maybe he never had one to begin with considering for as long as she could remember he had always come home with hos bottle of liquor in his hand or tugged under his armpit. The worst part is whenever his lips stretch into a smile revealing his yellow teeth. That smile always creeps her out.

The man simply gave her nightmares.

"Yau zan koya miki hankali" he said as he raised his hand to hit her.

She quickly covered her face with her small hands and waited for the pain to come. It never did. She waited for a few seconds more and still...it just never came.

She opened her eyes cautiously and immediately, it widened when she saw her father on the ground clutching the back of his head. Her gaze moved behind him and it rested on her mother who held a pestle in her hand watching her husband writhe in pain. She felt no ounce of remorse for him especially when he was just about to hurt their daughter.

She could've endured it if it was her but hitting her daughter is something she wouldn't stand for.

She dropped the pestle and quickly ran to where her daughter is. She scooped the five-year-old in her hand and ran to their room. She closed the door and tucked her daughter in her arms safely. Rahma cried in her mother's arms while the mother tried her best to calm the girl down. But then again, she lost a lot of blood from where her husband hit her on the head. So, she leaned on the door with tear streaming down her face.

She closed her eyes muttering the one sentence she had always hoped she would last utter on earth.

"La ilahailla Allah"

~*~

17th April, 2002.

Miya, Ganjuwa LGA,

Bauchi State.

"Keh take this and cook it for me"Anty Maryama said as she threw a small bag filled with garin tuwo at the seven-year-old Rabia who just finished sweeping Anty Maryama's room and small parlor. Anty Maryama cracked the groundnut she's eating open, threw it in her mouth and them discarded the cover on the floor. She glanced at Rabia who looked at the floor she just finished sweeping being littered by none other than Anty Maryama, "Da magana ne?" she asked as she cracked open another one.

"A'a. Babu" She shook her head as she gulped nervously.

"Oh toh. I thought you had something to say" Anty Maryam walked back into her room throwing the empty groundnut on the floor just to make the girl work all over again.

Rabia wiped the sweat that formed on her forehead with the back of her hand before she took the bag Anty Maryama threw. She made a mental note to sweep again once she's done. She fetched firewood and formed a local stove with it since she wasn't allowed to use the stove Anty Maryama uses. She gathered leathers and plastics which she could use to make the fire. She then poured a little amount of kerosene on it and used a match to light it.

"Keh yarinyar nan!" Shouted Maryama as she came out of room fixing her wrapper along the way, but even then it ended up with one side up and another down.

"Na'am Anty Maryama" Rabia answered having finally able to pronounce the name correctly now. But, her voice came out low and shaky. She knew that if Anty Maryam call her like that, she's in for another trouble in store.

Anty Maryama came into view, her head tie pushed to her forehead in the signature 'ture ka ga tsiya' or as Anty Maryama calls it 'Turekaci ubanka' while her lips is now stained with bright red 24 hours lipstick. No doubt she's preparing to head to another wedding that she is not invite to. "Is it my match that you used?"

Rabia watched her with slightly dilated eyes. She knew that whatever answer she gives, Anty Maryama will definitely be irked. But what did she expect her to do? If she didn't use match to light it what will she use?

"Bakida baki ne? Or am I talking to a wall?"

"A---anty---Anty Maryam I only used it to light the fire" she stuttered, her lower lips quivering as she felt tears sting her eyes. To says she's sacred of her aunt will be an understatement.

"Did you buy it for me?" Anty Maryama asked, hands akimbo.

"No"

"Ohhhh! So saboda ga na banza, you think you can use it however you like!"

Rabia knew what would follow. So, when the first slap landed on her face, she expected it. But the ones that follow wasn't expected by her. One would think she's used to Anty Maryama beating her up like this but she wasn't. How can a child get used to being maltreated every day?

"Shegiyar yarinya" Anty Maryama exclaimed panting. All the effort she puts into beating Rabia leave her worn out. "Tohkuwa Wallahi if I see you eat food today in this house, kashin ki sai ya bushe" she hissed loudly and walked back to her room leaving Rabia in tears.

Later that same day, she sent Rabia out for hawking as usual. The little girl dressed in a ragged dirty t-shirt and an old faded brown wrapper picked up the tray of kuli-kuli groundnut on her and headed out.

Today being Wednesday means that it's Miya's market day or as they like to call it, ranar cin kasuwa so Anty Maryama knew she'd definitely make money. Rabia was hungry to say the least but she knew that maybe if she makes enough money, Malam Dalha Me Tuburin Shayi, her uncle that is and also Anty Maryama's husband might find it in his heart to give her one slice of bread to eat since his wife has forbidden her from eating anything. But then again. She highly doubts that. From all the five years she had spent with them, she knew there's no 'maybe' with them.

After walking for hours in the sun selling whatever she could, her feet ached due to walking under the scorching sun barefoot for that long. "Kuli-kuli da gyada naira hansin ce ba tsada!" she chanted as she walked amongst the crowd that could barely see her due to her shortness and stunted growth due to her lack of vitamins.

"Barawo!" she heard someone yell making people look up. Before she could react and understood what's happening, someone bumped into her making her fall on the hot floor and sent her tray flying around somewhere.

The person that bumped into her kept running nonstop and so were the group of men chasing after him just as how cats chase mice.

She didn't care about the bruises that she undoubtedly got on her arms and legs due to the fall. All she cared about was finding where her tray and its content went because she knows that without it, in simple words, she's doomed.

By the time she found the tray amongst the huge crowd of people, she was in tears as she couldn't find any of what she was selling. She saw a couple of people walk around with what seemed to be it in their hand eating it all up and the people were two times her size so she didn't dare speak to them. She knew the beating she'll get from them will be worse that the one she'd get from Anty Rabi.

"KaiiBaaba! Allah qara kawo man ruwana gyada kaman wannan" Said one of the two people she saw walking with the groundnut in their ahnd.

His friend nodded with a grin on his face, "Ameen! See the way this one is sweet oh! Kaman that one the wife of Malam Dalha makes"

His friend puckered his lips then shrugged, "Ko na Indo ne ma ai mun Sami na bati. Daman I'm hungry for some chop chop haka"

Rabia couldn't stop the tears. She knows one thing for sure.

She's dead in the hands of Anty Maryama today. She started heading back home with her empty tray with tears streaming down her face. She contemplated on stopping by Rahma's house knowing the girl might just have a solution to this but she too might just be dealing with her own personal problems.

That was when she heard a commotion up ahead. She walked towards it since it's on her way back home. But something in her made her stop to check and see what's going on.

That was when she realized it's the boy that bumped into her that's surrounded by a group of men that looked like they're ready to kill the teenager that instant. But, they are being held back by three policemen with protruding bellies that makes them resemble pregnant women. Basically, pregnant women in police uniforms. That was what they looked like.

"Give us the money you stole ko Wallahi mu kashe ka da duka" Yelled one of the men struggling against the police's hold to get to the boy. Judging by the look on his face, she wasn't kidding one bit.

The boy stood with a blank look on his face. One couldn't tell what he's thinking or feeling. One thing you can tell by glancing at his stance is that he wasn't afraid of them or the consequence. For what reason? No one knows.

Another man Rabia recognizes as one of the rich people in the village, Tanko Miya, walked towards them. His small eyes narrowed at the young boy and once he stood in front of the boy, he raised his hand and landed a slap on the boy's face. "Dan iskanyaro!" he exclaimed as he glared at the boy, "Irinku ne kukebatar mana da al-ummah! Dirty street boy. Instead of you to struggle and hustle like the kids your age to and build a good future for yourself you're here stealing"

The boy turned and glared at the man. That was the first time he showed any type of emotion apart from lack of fear, "Struggle?" he asked in disbelief. His voice came out low, "What do you know about struggling?!" he yelled as he walked closer to the man but one of the policeman ran over and held the boy back.

By then, a huge crowd of people had formed so as to watch the show unfold live but Rabia couldn't see because the people were blocking her. So, she took a few steps forward, the worry of her tray and beating she'll get from Anty Maryama long forgotten.

"I HAD BEEN STRUGGLING MY ENTIRE LIFE! I STRUGLLED TO TAKE CARE OF MY SIBLINGS AND MOTHER AFTER MY FATHER DIED. I WATCHED MY MOTHER TAKE HER LAST BRETAH OUT OF HUNGER! AND YET, YOU ARE HERE TELLING ME TO STRUGGLE? PEOPLE LIKE YOU KNOW ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT STRUGGLING!" The boy yelled pointing his finger at Alhaji Tanko. His eyes were red with anger but there was absolutely no fear in it—just little bits of anguish and lots of anger.

He turned to the men that were chasing him earlier, "You want to kill me?" he asked laughing as if his life isn't on the line. "Okay go ahead! Please kill me and help me out of this misery! Killing me is actually doing me a favor because I am tired of living like this"

Rabiatu didn't understand what happened next. Her seven-year-old brain wasn't able to decipher what happened afterwards. All she could remember was two men came and took the boy away.

And the last thing she remembered that day was crying herself to sleep out of hunger and from the beatings she received from Anty Maryama that day.

~*~

Daily updates? I'm not sure yet seff.

I honestly didn't realize how sad this beginning is while writing it till now that I'm publishing it. I really hope no one will go through what these girls are going through.

Thank you all for the support! It means a lot especially since this book is my favorite so far😭❤️ I can't wait for you guys to reach a certain part of the story.

All in good time.

Have a nice day. Please, do share.

Love, Jannah ❤️