"Get well soon, Tabawa. God will grant you health. You will personally raise what you have given birth to; illness is not death," he said, wiping the tears welling up in his large eyes. The unexpected arrival of their little daughter, no older than twelve, made Tabawa raise her head with difficulty to look at her. She extended her hand for the girl to come closer. Despite the intense pain she felt in her head and the burning sensation in her chest, like she was exhaling hot coals, she began to speak after the girl gave her some water she had fetched. "Ameenee, fear Allah wherever you are, be obedient to your father and my co-wife, be a good girl that everyone will want to be around, observe Allah's commands, Ameenee. Allah will protect you and your descendants until the end of your life. Malam, take care of this girl, don't let anyone harm her. Ensure she gets an education because you are knowledgeable."
A strong cough seized her, and she couldn't stop. In a state of panic, Malam Muhammad got up to get her water, only to hear their daughter Ameenee reciting the shahada, while her mother was repeating it. Ameenee's eyes were streaming with tears like a fountain. Malam was paralyzed, watching his wife's chest rise and fall before she took one last breath and lay still, her hand in Ameenee's. Ameenee began to cry silently, praying for her mother, "Oh Lord, my God, I ask you to forgive my mother, grant her mercy in her grave, and raise her among your righteous servants. Give her the strength to answer the questions in the grave."
Malam Muhammad, who was crouched in grief, held his head, tears streaming down his face. He joined his daughter's prayer, not fully understanding her words until the end. He clutched his wife's body as if to pull her back into him, tears falling, silently praying for Allah's mercy on her. Finally, he released her, closed her eyes, and covered her with her blanket. He stood up and walked out to the courtyard, where a haggard woman was speaking sternly to her children to finish their food and fetch water. The children, pouting, refused. Seeing Malam's distressed face, she rushed over, her heart pounding with dread, and grasped his hand.
"Delu, Allah knows Tabawa was dearer to me. Today, He has taken her from us, leaving us in sorrow and despair. This pain, I don't know when it will end, Delu." A lump of grief choked her throat at his words. But being cunning, she feigned grief for the deceased, placing her hands on her head and screaming, falling to the ground, kicking and thrashing, removing her dirty headscarf, "Oh, Delu, I am undone! I have lost my dear sister, who loved and cherished me. Tabawa, don't leave us. We love you dearly. Forgive us for any wrong we did to you."
Malam knelt and lifted her, feeling even more pity for them all. Losing a woman like Tabawa was a significant loss. She was a woman of modesty, patience, cleanliness, and discretion, enduring and providing for her husband like she was the man of the house. Even when they had nothing, she would strive to provide as if she were the husband. Both her husband and her co-wife benefited from her without recompense. He cherished her more than anyone else, giving her an unparalleled place in his heart and soul. She became a part of him. When they married and had no children, she urged him to marry Delu. Upon her arrival, Delu immediately bore sons and began to show her true colors, threatening to leave. Tabawa, being kind-hearted, pleaded with him to take her back, saying if he divorced Delu, she too would leave. He relented, and they brought Delu back, to everyone's amazement at her generosity and kindness.
Despite her intentions, Delu began to harm Tabawa discreetly, attempting to cause a miscarriage when Tabawa was pregnant with Ameenee. Yet, Allah protected the child. When Ameenee was born a girl, Delu celebrated, believing her sons were superior. Life went on, and she took Ameenee to raise, treating her cruelly while feigning kindness to the boys. If Tabawa intervened, she would reprimand her, saying they were just children too. Eventually, Ameenee grew and understood Delu's true nature, but her mother and Malam remained oblivious. When she once told her mother, she was severely beaten. She learned to stay silent, being an obedient child.
Malam adjusted her scarf, offering her comfort, and took her inside to dress in a proper hijab. As she dressed, she cried convincingly, though inwardly reflecting on his words. They prepared Tabawa's body for burial, and Ameenee cried uncontrollably until she was too exhausted. She went to her mother's room, hugging a pillow and praying silently for her mother's peace.