MUNAFIKA

"Bring them in." The order ripped through the  disciplinary chambers of the fada, hard and unyielding.

The owner of that voice was General Kabir Isyaku Shehu. 

A man whom time had carved deep lines into his face, while years in the military had stripped him of every trace of softness. His broad shoulders remained as straight as the day he first wore a uniform, his greying beard trimmed with the same precision he demanded from everyone beneath his command. Nothing about him looked relaxed.

Sarki Galadima Abubakar had entrusted him with every matter of misconduct, injustice and deceit within the palace. General Kabir's word carried enough weight that even the princesses trod carefully in his presence.

No one spoke carelessly around him. Guards instinctively straightened when he passed, servants quickened their pace, and even the women allowed their gossip to die on their tongues the moment he appeared.

The heavy wooden doors flew open, slamming against the stone walls. "Wayyo Allah na!" A cry echoed through the disciplinary room as a woman was dragged inside by her hijab, her feet scrambling helplessly across the polished floor.

Behind her came another. "Muguwa kawai! If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this position in the first place!" Mardiyya cried as she was hauled in after Kande, her eyes swollen from weeping, her purple hijab streaked with flour stains and splashes of food.

The room was cold and dimly lit. It was a place where accusations were heard, punishments were decided, and justice was passed.

"Shuru! Who gave any of you permission to speak?" General Kabir barked, his gaze sweeping over the room.

The moment he spoke, Kande and Mardiyya immediately fell silent, both trying to swallow their sobs. They lowered themselves onto their knees before the throne where Alhaji Garba Galadima sat in imposing silence, his expression giving nothing away.

Today, he was dressed in a charcoal-black alkyabba, its collar and cuffs worked with fine gold embroidery. A neatly wrapped rawani crowned his head, and a large silver signet ring rested against the arm of his throne as he listened.

Two other men stood at the far end of the room, rifles strapped across their shoulders. Their necks remained so still one would have thought they weren't human, their eyes fixed straight ahead. Their stance screamed they weren't listening, though in truth, they observed everything.

"Kande Aminu. Speak. And let me remind you both that I already know the full story of what happened. If either of you lies, I promise the outcome will be far worse than you expect," General Kabir said.

Kande, who remained crouched on her knees, trembled beneath the weight of the powerful men standing before her. Small, choked sobs escaped her lips as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I was only trying to do my job, General," she choked out, using the sleeve of her hijab to wipe the snot gathering beneath her nose. "I was preparing the soup that would be eaten with masa when she insisted that I use Maggi Star. She kept claiming that Gimbiya only likes Knorr."

Another sob escaped her. "Kuma wallahi ba haka bane. It was Hajia Zubaida who instructed that we use Knorr. I was on my own when she—"

"Wallahi, karya take yi! Lies. She lies, wallahi! I didn't insist. I was only trying—" Mardiyya lurched forward before she could stop herself, both hands flying into the air as she shook her head wildly. Her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths, her eyes darting desperately from the General to Sarki.

"Ke, Mardiyya! Kin ci kaniyarki. Who gave you permission to speak?" General Kabir barked.

He turned back to Kande, giving her a curt nod to continue.

"She kept trying to get a rise out of me, and it resulted in her pouring hot, scalding miyan taushe on my skin." Kande cried, her body now shaking with sobs.

"Munafuka ce ke! Wallahi, that's not what happened. I didn't—" Mardiyya tried to interrupt once more. One hand clutched at her hijab while the other sliced helplessly through the air.

"Mardiyya." General Kabir's voice was low enough to make the room fall silent. He took one measured step towards her, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.

"Ina wasa da ke?" He took another slow step, stopping directly before her. His gaze settled on her, hard and unwavering. "Do I strike you as a man whose orders are ignored?"

Mardiyya trembled beneath the weight of his authority. She immediately clamped her mouth shut and shuffled back two steps, lowering her gaze to the marble floor.

General Kabir shifted his attention to Kande once more."Continue," he said.

Kande nodded softly, the tears on her face now dried. "The whole argument was centred on the type of seasoning I used, General. It shouldn't have escalated the way it did, but the pressure and stress of Eid morning got to me." Her voice came out hoarse and dry. "Forgive me, General. It won't happen again. It won't." She shook her head repeatedly as her gaze kept drifting towards the two armed men standing at the far end of the room, their rifles resting against their shoulders.

"I was informed you sustained a physical injury." General Kabir's brows rose slightly as his hands remained clasped behind his back. "Show me."

Kande swallowed hard before carefully lifting the sleeve of her hijab, revealing the bandaged arm that stretched from her biceps to her wrist.

General Kabir's face hardened into a deep frown as his eyes settled on the bandaged arm. Judging by the extent of it, the burn had been severe.

The expression disappeared almost as quickly as it came. He gave Kande a small nod. "Cover yourself."

Only then did he turn to Mardiyya.

"You may speak."

"Wayyo Allah na, she intends to frame me, wallahi, General. The fight wasn't only caused by my actions. She played a huge part in it. She pulled my dankwali in front of every—"

"That was you!" Kande's voice cut sharply through the room, thick with disbelief. 

Her jaw dropped. She stared at Mardiyya, unable to believe she was trying to twist the story and make herself out to be the victim.

"Kande." General Kabir's voice carried a quiet warning, though he never once took his eyes off Mardiyya. "You were given the chance to speak. Let her do the same."

Kande swallowed the words gathering in her throat and forced herself into silence, though every part of her wanted to argue.

"All I was trying to do, General, was advise her. I only cared about Gimbiya's well-being. Hajia Zubaida has changed instructions before. I was afraid we'd be blamed if the food wasn't prepared the way Gimbiya preferred. What if she had used the seasoning and it ended up poisoning Gimbiya?" she whimpered, forced tears blurring her vision.

"Don't make accusations against my wife's food unless you can back them." It was the first time Alhaji Garba Galadima had spoken since the ordeal began.

Silence settled over the room.

After a moment, Mardiyya spoke again, though this time, most of the confidence had drained from her voice. "I didn't intend to pour the soup on her either," she muttered, sounding almost defensive. "Aljannu na ne suka tashi." She pushed her lips out in quiet defiance.

"Shaidannu ne, ba aljannu ba!" The deep lines around General Kabir's eyes seemed to carve even deeper into his weathered face as his brows drew together.

"Mardiyya." He said 

"Yes, General?" she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What did I tell you both before this conversation started?" he asked.

"I told you not to lie to me, did I not?" His second question came slower than the first, each word measured.

Mardiyya remained silent.

"Yahaya," he called, and one of the armed men immediately stepped forward, his polished boots striking softly against the marble floor. "Take her." General Kabir gestured towards Mardiyya as though he were merely asking for a glass of water. There wasn't the slightest hint of anger in his voice, nor any need to raise it. His authority alone was enough.

"Ae?!" Mardiyya's voice rang through the disciplinary room, disbelief washing over her face. "Haba, General. Haka ake yi? Ni zasu kwashe?" Her head whipped from one face to another, desperately searching for someone who would speak for her. The room remained painfully silent. Not a single person stepped forward. Not one guard flinched. Even Kande remained frozen where she knelt.

"Tell them, Kande!" Mardiyya cried, stumbling towards her before grabbing the front of Kande's hijab with both hands. "Tell them it's only a joke. Tell them we love each other like siblings, and siblings fight all the time." She clutched the fabric desperately, her fingers trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Wallahi, tell them!"

Yahaya didn't waste a single moment. He strode towards Mardiyya, seized her firmly by the arm, and began dragging her towards the doors.

"Tell them! Tell them, Kande!" For the first time that morning, genuine fear crept into Mardiyya's voice. She struggled against Yahaya's grip, her feet scraping helplessly across the polished floor as she reached towards Kande with her free hand. "Wallahi, tell them!" she screamed, but the only thing that answered her was silence. As Yahaya dragged her further away and her cries echoed through the disciplinary room, the truth settled heavily inside her.

The heavy wooden doors shut behind Mardiyya, and the echoes of her cries slowly faded into silence. For a brief moment, no one in the room spoke. General Kabir turned his attention to Kande before making his way towards her. One measured step after another, he stopped in front of where she knelt and slowly lowered himself into a crouch. His eyes settled on the bandaged arm hidden beneath her hijab, then to the dry tears streaked on her face.

"Don't get yourself into trouble again," he murmured, his voice quieter than before, almost soft.

"I won't, General." Kande bowed her head a little lower, her voice barely above a whisper.

General Kabir studied her for a brief moment before giving a single nod. "You're dismissed."

Kande's profuse words of gratitude came in waves. She thanked General Kabir over and over again before turning to Sarki Galadima, lowering her head respectfully as she thanked him too. Then, without wasting another second, she hurried out of the disciplinary room as though something terrible was chasing after her.

*****

On the third floor of the Galadima household was the first daughter, Asma'u, busy with her planner for the day. She used the app Structured to ensure her day's schedule was laid out in a clean timeline, scrolled through Pinterest to download the right images for her YouTube videos, and finally set her devices on the vanity, positioning her camera at the right angle before switching on the ring light.

She then went in to touch up her makeup, cleaned up her concealer, blended her bronzer, and applied her favourite deep shade of Rhode red lipstick before adjusting herself on her vanity stool. The last thing she did was pick up the remote control for the air conditioner and adjust it to the right temperature before pressing record on her camera.

Clearing her throat, she began. "Hello, guys. It's been a while. I hope you're all in good health and wealth. Today, I am going to be taking you through three processes, or rather activities, you need to follow to have an active mindset as a girl."

She paused, allowing her words to flow naturally, never once rushing as she settled deeper into her seat and smiled at the camera.

"Before we get into it, shoutout to Lauren Santo Domingo for sponsoring today's video."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward slightly, speaking as though she were chatting with a close friend.

"I need you to understand that life is a constant cycle of one day being lazy and the next day you get this crazy burst of motivation. It could be at 3 a.m. when you suddenly decide you're going to change yourself and turn your faith around."

A small laugh escaped her as she lifted a hand in emphasis. "Like, you know when that crazy burst of energy comes out of nowhere at the most random times, and you just pause and go, 'Hmm. I really want to change my life.'"

She gave a knowing smile, nodding as though she already knew exactly what everyone watching was thinking. "So you enroll for a gym membership, start YouTubing, take Duolingo courses, and maybe, just maybe take your diet seriously."

She let the words hang for a brief moment before shaking her head, her expression softening. "But you see, that's the problem. You keep relying constantly on motivation, and while that is really good and needed sometimes, you also need to understand that, as humans, motivation will not take you far. At all... because It often runs out. So, what do you need?" She leaned in slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Discipline."

She rested one arm on the vanity, her fingers lightly tapping against the tabletop as she spoke, her tone calm and certain. "You need to discipline your mind, your body, your values. You need to outdo yourself every.single.time, my loves—not necessarily in big ways, not at all, but least through little steps."

"Make sure what you're doing today is better than what you did yesterday. You also need to stop praising yourself every time you do something good. And no, I'm not saying building self-confidence through praise of effort isn't good, but what makes it dangerous is when you keep your mind stuck in that loop of praise, and suddenly your brain is convinced that it has done 'enough.' For a lifetime"

She took a breath. for a second, letting the point settle before continuing.

"Discipline is the only thing that gets you far in life. It isn't necessarily aggressive, because people often imagine discipline as those tiny aggressive voices in their heads pushing them around. But to me, discipline is soft. Discipline is loving yourself enough to keep trying, and keep failing again, and again, and again, until you finally get the hang of it."

She sat back, her gaze fixed on the camera as if speaking to one person instead of thousands.

"Which brings me to the next point, you need to show up, my love. Every single day. I know you've been doing it for so long, and you're not seeing results. But what's important is that you show up for yourself, even—and especially—when no one else does. Because, when the results are low, when they're almost nonexistent, you still have to keep going. You need to have this deeply internalised belief that regardless of how hard life hits you, or how low it brings you, you are worthy enough to rise again. You have it in you. You always have."

She let the silence linger for a moment before continuing.

"Don't invest in things that don't invest in you. I understand that you want to scroll through social media endlessly, watch funny reels, keep up with the lives of your favourite celebrities, and you absolutely should, but while that isn't always a bad thing, there comes a point where you have to stop and ask yourself, 'How is this helping me?' or 'How is this building me?' Remember, your most valuable asset is time. Once it's gone, you don't get it back. It's expensive, so be careful how you spend it."

She drew in a quiet breath before lifting a finger, signalling her final point.

"And lastly, you need trust. Trust in yourself to fail. Trust in yourself to embarrass yourself in pursuit of your dreams. Trust in yourself to be kind to yourself on the hard days. Trust in yourself to put yourself out there. Create the opportunities for yourself instead of waiting for them to find you. Because if you don't trust yourself enough to begin before you're ready, you'll spend your entire life waiting for confidence that only comes after you've started."

She reached forward to adjust the camera ever so slightly before settling back.

"That said, I hope you've taken at least one valuable message from this video, but most importantly, I hope you'll apply what I've shared to your own life. There's obviously always more to it. More to peace, more to success, and more to the role contentment plays in all of it, but that'll be all for today's video. If you'd like to see more vlogs like mine, don't forget to like, subscribe, and leave a comment. I'll see you in the next one."

****

"Hajia YouTuber. Motivational speaker in mu." A voice cleared its throat from the doorway.

"Rayyana, don't you have better places to be?" Asma'u asked without getting up from her spot.

"I actually don't." Her response came airily as she walked into the room, a bowl of grapes tucked into one arm and a kwaskon turaren wuta balanced in the other. She shut the door behind her before stepping fully inside and making her way towards Asma'u's bed, not hesitating as she bounced onto it.

Asma'u finally got up from her seat and made her way to the bed. She reached for the air conditioner remote and adjusted the temperature. Within minutes, a cool, calming breeze filled the room. She released a sigh of relief as she settled against the headboard before reaching for a grape and popping it into her mouth.

"You really sound different when you're talking to that camera. It's like you become a version of yourself that I never get to see. It's beautiful," Rayyana said warmly, a soft, teasing smile playing on her lips.

Asma'u rolled her eyes, pretending not to hear what her sister had said. "It's called speaking professionally," she said curtly.

"No, it's called your influencer voice, Miss YouTuber. Masu lovers," Rayyana chuckled. "Have you heard about Nana's wedding? Mama has been planning endlessly."

"I'm not a big fan of their family," Asma'u said, remembering the sharp glare Rufaida had kept directing at her during Eid.

"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that they're family. By the way, your relationship with Rufaida shouldn't affect the one you have with her sister. Ko?" Rayyana gently pressed.

"I'm sure they'll be just fine without me, Rayyana. And if it's going to be anything like I think it will be, then Sani Umar would be present and—" She cut herself off with an almost frustrated sigh.

Rayyana's brows drew together slightly, realisation dawning on her. "Shut up!" She gripped Asma'u's hand. "No, he did not." She shook her head, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "You're lying. He didn't contact you again!" she gasped, almost screaming.

"Well, aren't you just dramatic." Asma'u smiled. "And yes, he did. I almost feel bad for Rufaida." She rolled her eyes, her voice devoid of any trace of sympathy.

"Oh my God, Asma'u, now you have to attend. It'd be premium drama wallahi to see the look on his face when you're there while he's there with his wife." Rayyana chuckled slyly, shaking her head, as though watching the scene unfold in her head.

"Wouldn't you want that?" Asma'u scoffed.

"Please attend. It would be boring otherwise," Rayyana pleaded.

"Yes, I know. I bring colour to every event," Asma'u said matter-of-factly. "Don't you have friends? This girl." She scrunched her nose in annoyance. "You're always disturbing me."

"Yes, I do, thank you very much," Rayyana said. "I'll have you know that in uni, every girl is fighting for the position of being my best friend." She spoke confidently, though her voice carried something else beneath it whenever she mentioned university.

The room fell quiet, and in that moment, Asma'u realised something might be going on with her sister that she didn't know about.

"Tell me, how's uni?" she asked.

Rayyana took a deep breath. "The usual. Boring lectures. People who like to show off, endless parties, exams, unexpected tests. Just the usual." She shrugged, trying to look unbothered.

Asma'u's eyes narrowed as she studied her sister. "And... no man? Anyone on your mind?" she asked slowly, testing the waters.

Almost immediately, Rayyana's cheeks warmed. Having fair skin had always put her at a great disadvantage; anyone could tell when she was blushing. "Well... there's someone on my mind, but he has nothing to do with uni," she said shyly.

"Really..." Asma'u said, perhaps finding interest in their conversation for the first time. She adjusted her position on the bed, folding her arms. "A'a, is Rayyana in loveeee?" she teased, a small laugh escaping her.

"Don't say it like that." Rayyana squealed, kicking her feet gently against the bed as she grabbed the nearest plush pillow and hid her face behind it. "Stop staring at me." Her voice came out muffled beneath the pillow.

"Oya, I won't tease you. Do you really like him that much? You must have a big crush then," Asma'u said, a smile still on her face as she found far too much pleasure in her sister's situation.

"It's more than just a crush with him, Asma'u. He's..." She sighed. "I really like him. He's calm, polite, and so gentle," Rayyana said dreamily.

"Well, don't keep me hanging. Who is he?" Asma'u asked, moving closer to her sister, almost holding her breath as excitement filled her chest.

"Well, he's—" Before Rayyana could utter another word, a sharp knock came from outside Asma'u's door, tearing through the peaceful bubble the sisters had created.