They were sitting on chairs in the garden of Yahuza Suya behind the Central Mosque. Four men, all wearing suits, had taken off their jackets and draped them over the backs of their chairs, indicating they had come straight from work. In front of them were grilled chicken and tea, which they were enjoying while watching the big screen TV showing a football match between Manchester and Chelsea. From their lively debates and laughter, it was clear they were thoroughly enjoying the match.

One of the men’s phones rang, and without taking his eyes off the TV, he reached into his front pocket, pulled out the phone, and, upon seeing "Madam" on the screen, clicked his tongue and put the phone aside as it continued to ring. The other men looked at him, and he said, rubbing his chest, “It’s Madam, she never lets me rest.” They all turned back to the game, almost in unison, continuing to watch the match.

The match ended at exactly 11:30 PM, with Manchester winning 4-2. The man whose phone had been ringing stood up, picked up his phone, still ringing, and his jacket, saying, “Let me be on my way, or Madam will drain my phone battery. Goodnight, guys.” One of the remaining three quickly stood up too, saying, “I’m coming with you, Engineer. I can’t handle my wife’s nagging tonight either; she’ll keep me awake all night.” He grabbed his jacket and car keys, and together they headed to their parked cars, exchanging goodbyes before each got into his car and drove away.

One of the two remaining men turned to the other and asked, “What time are you leaving, Nura?” The one called Nura turned as if he hadn’t heard the question, raised his hand to call one of the waiters at Yahuza, who quickly approached with respect and said, “Yes, sir?” Nura turned to his companion and asked, “Do you want another round or are you leaving too?” The man shook his head, indicating no, so Nura turned back to the waiter and said, “Bring us more goruba tea and chicken with gizzard, spice them separately but not too spicy.” The waiter left, and Nura picked up his phone, about to dial, when Musa said, “You and Hadiza still haven’t settled your issues? Just swallow your pride and make peace.” Nura scoffed, “No way! I’m tired of always being the one to make peace over misunderstandings she starts. She keeps taking advantage of my dislike for quarrels. Does she think I’m a pushover?” Musa quickly responded, “Come on, my friend, you know how women are. Just go along with her.” Nura, exasperated, replied, “You don’t understand. No matter how I describe Hadiza to you, you won’t get it. She’s so bossy and has that feminist mentality, thinking she’s equal to me. She acts like she doesn’t need me for anything, like it’s her house, her rules.” Musa patted his shoulder and said, “Chill, please, for your kids’ sake. Aman is just 4,5 years old, and little Amal is 2. I don’t want them growing up seeing their parents at odds.” Nura shrugged off his hand and said, “Enough, man. Talking to Hadiza is impossible. I’m tired too, but I won’t be as petty as her. She thinks her feminist mentality will get her anywhere? One day, I’ll show her.” He muttered a curse in Hausa, and Musa burst out laughing.

Nura laughed too, saying, “And you, why did you stay out late? Seems like you have your own issues too.” Musa sighed, stopping his laughter, and said, “My wife... Maman Shatu, I don’t even know if she’s a woman. Sometimes, I think she might as well be a man.” Nura laughed again, just as their order arrived. The waiter set it down and left. Musa poured tea and took a sip, lost in thought, then said, “Bro, imagine I’m just 45 years old, but this woman wants to make me an old man. She hates any form of intimacy with me. As soon as I approach, she starts saying I should start reducing marital relations because we’re getting old and should focus on our children. I was like, what the hell! Does she think I’m a piece of wood or that I should start aging prematurely?” Nura laughed so hard he almost choked on his chicken, and some nearby tables turned to look at them. Trying to control his laughter, Nura said, “Stop laughing. It’s a serious matter. With your temperament, I don’t even know how you’re managing. I can’t imagine surviving like this. But you, you always have to plead with your wife before she agrees. With my pride, there’s no way I’d beg Hadiza. Honestly, I want peace, but her behavior is making me lose interest and love for her. She doesn’t care about me at all.” Musa, full of frustration, said, “I don’t understand how women’s brains work. They offend us but will gather and talk about how their husbands did this and that. They’ll post online, 'Please hide my ID,' airing our faults, but never mention what they did to us. They’re a bunch of hypocrites.”