Description For Bad Boys
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The motorcycle was moving slowly. There were two people on it: the rider and a fair-skinned man dressed in a spotless white robe (jallabiya) with an Arab headscarf and a small bag slung around his neck.
From the moment they entered the village of Ƙundu, people began to fix their gaze on the motorcycle—not because of the bike itself, but because of the man sitting behind the rider. In the center of the village, the motorcycle stopped near a gathering spot where some people were seated. The fair-skinned man got down, carrying a bag on his shoulder, while the rider handed him another bag from the front of the motorcycle, which appeared to contain his belongings.
In a soft voice, he spoke Hausa like a beginner, but his words carried a distinct Arabic accent. He said:
“How much is the fare?”
The bike rider told him the amount, but instead of giving him the exact fare, the man pulled out a large sum of money from his pocket and handed it to him, saying:
“Take your payment from that. I had to exchange money when I arrived in Nigeria; I’m not familiar with your currency.”
He said this while gently running his fingers through his soft, shiny hair that connected with a neatly groomed beard—just one look at him and you’d know he was a proper Arab.
After the rider took his share and returned the rest of the money, the man picked up his bag and headed toward the group of villagers. In Hausa laced with Arabic tone, he greeted:
“Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh, oh people of this village.”
He said this while raising his hand, which had a prayer bead (tasbaha) dangling from it. Everyone turned their attention to him and responded to his greeting in unison. He went around shaking hands, each exchange filled with joy at greeting this fair-skinned Arab guest.
With a respectful tone, he said he would like to be taken to the village head's house. One of the villagers volunteered to guide him, saying, “To the chief’s house.” The Arab guest replied:
“No problem, no hardship.”
And so they headed toward the chief’s house. Since it was evening, the chief’s compound was bustling with people; the chief was seated regally on a chair. When people saw the fair-skinned man following one of their own, all eyes turned to him. But he was undeterred by the stares—he simply smiled, revealing two front teeth that gleamed like those from the blessed city of Mecca.
The village chief was stunned. He stared with his mouth agape. Outside of pictures and calls, he had never seen a fair-skinned person like this. Before anyone could speak, the chief blurted:
“Audu, where did you get this Arab man from?”
He was speaking to the man who brought the guest. Audu explained that the man had just arrived on a motorcycle and requested to be taken to the village head. The chief then asked the crowd to clear a space for the visitor. Audu placed the guest’s bag aside and stepped back. All eyes were now fixed on the new arrival.
The village chief turned to the guest and said:
“You’re welcome, sir. Where are you from and to whom have you come?”
He asked while looking directly at him. The chief began to wonder if the guest might not understand Hausa and was about to try another language. But since Audu had said the man requested to be brought to him, he assumed the guest must understand at least some Hausa.
Just as he was losing hope, the guest cleared his throat, unslung his bag, and slightly bowed his head. With a calm and modest smile, he said:
“Assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh.
My name is Sheikh Abu Abdurrahman Al-Yamanini. I am from Yemen, specifically from Al-Mukalla. I was sent here to Nigeria to assist people in addressing issues related to spiritual healing from demonic jinn, and ailments of the mind and body.
I have studied Hadith and ruqyah (spiritual healing) since I was nine years old, and Alhamdulillah, I used to work in the Umar bin Khattab Mosque in our country.
I did not come here in search of wealth, but to assist with what Allah has blessed me with. I’ve already prepared a special program for collective spiritual healing, including treatments for forgetfulness, confusion, and oppression.”
He added:
“I’ve started preparing water over which I’ve recited Ayatul Kursiyy and Suratul Jinn seventy times. With Allah’s permission, this village will experience peace. I heard of the problems troubling this village from a servant of Allah who gave me directions on how to get here.”
“This service is completely free—only if someone is healed and wishes to give charity, they may do so... just like we do in Yemen!”
As he lowered his head, the people around shouted: “Allahu Akbar!”
The chief adjusted his turban and, turning to his people, said:
“By Allah, this is no ordinary guest! Just look at how his skin glows, like he was washed with Zamzam water!”
He continued:
“You said Yemen? Well, this village—Ƙundu—has never received a guest from an Arab land. You are the first, and certainly, blessings have entered Ƙundu this very evening!”
Without waiting for any comment, he added:
“We’ve long struggled with problems: men who have lost interest in their wives, women who talk to themselves, women who just stand around murmuring alone, children who cry for no reason, day and night. We believe it’s the work of evil jinn. But now Allah has sent us a savior, and we are grateful!”
He turned to the surrounding people—some seated there originally, others who had arrived later—and declared:
“From today, Sheikh Al-Yamani will stay with us. He’ll be given the guest room in my guesthouse. He’ll be served tuwo (local meal) at night and warm porridge in the morning. In the afternoon, he’ll be brought dambu or fura. As the village chief, I take full responsibility for this!”
He said this while adjusting his sitting position, feeling like he had done his utmost.
The people around praised the chief for his thoughtful gesture. But in the heart of the Sheikh, it wasn’t quite the same. He was annoyed to hear about tuwo and dambu—he hadn’t escaped it back home only to face it again here.
Lifting his head, he said:
“Ma sha Allah, Alhamdulillahi hamdan-hamdan, sakallahu bil kairi.”
The chief beamed, assuming the guest had just blessed him with an Arabic prayer, and declared proudly:
“You hear that? He's praying for me in pure Arabic—perhaps even praying for my pilgrimage to Mecca!”
The villagers, buried in ignorance, all nodded in agreement, while the Arab guest, deep in his thoughts, said to himself…
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