Gagarawa, Jigawa State.

As the moon progressed, for the month of Jumada al-Ula had reached twenty-five days, which corresponded to the month of November in the Gregorian calendar.

Around half-past two, the night was deep, darkness enveloped everything, and you couldn't hear any sound or movement, except for the cries of small insects and the rustling of dry leaves blown by the wind from time to time.

At this time when most people were fast asleep, her eyes were still wide open, showing no sign of sleep, due to the dryness of her heart and the pain she felt.

Today she realized that peace of mind, tranquility, and lack of worry combine to produce a sweet sleep full of joy.

Slowly, she got up from the mattress she was lying on, went to the window, and opened it. A cold breeze hit her face. She looked at the large courtyard, where you couldn't see anything because of the darkness.
She raised her head and looked at the stars, how they adorned the sky, held in place by the power and might of the Almighty.
She sighed, comparing her life to this dark night, full of darkness and fear.

At a time when the Hausa proverb echoed among the Hausa people, saying that the bitterness of the gourd is inside, you drink it, but alas! Modern times have brought us progress, showing us the importance of our health.
Despite the progress made, it did not prevent her from being forced to drink the bitterness of the gourd, which is harmful! For it became like poison to her, causing the illness she suffered from, for which she could not find a cure. What was once hidden became visible, and people began to label her with it.
Similarly, the Hausa saying that a woman's illness is for women found a place in the mouths of many women, but in her view, a woman's illness was hers alone. Perhaps in her life, God did not place her among those whose illness was shared.
Despite her efforts to swallow her saliva, she couldn't, due to the dryness of her mouth. Her heart burned with a pain that caused her breath to come out in gasps.

She slowly uttered, "What is left? Since the world is full of conflict and challenges, everyone is only concerned with themselves, and your money is your respect. Indeed! The situation has reached a breaking point, and I have resolved to confront those who wronged me. Since there is no favoritism, I must break the egg whose smell might cause the disintegration of relationships. If they can endure the bitterness of the gourd within them as they did to me, then I will move on, giving them space while striving to find a way out for myself.

In the late afternoon, a young woman, not more than eighteen years old, was sitting in a large courtyard, trying to pick the beans she would grind and add to the soup she was making. On her lap lay a little girl of about three and a half years old, sucking her thumb and playing with her navel with one hand.
If you looked at the little girl once, you would look again, curious to know which tribe she belonged to.

She was very dark, chubby, with a small forehead, but her thick eyebrows overshadowed her forehead. She had large white eyes, but her irises were brown instead of black. Her lips were slightly plump, but her lips were red, as if she had applied lipstick. The most surprising thing was her long, jet-black hair, very long, not curly like typical black people's hair, but straight like Arab hair. She had two braids that reached her waist. Her nose was not very long, as her cheeks overshadowed it.

"Mariya, won't you put down that chubby girl and focus on finishing this work? You've taken a child and placed her on your lap, and you don't feel any weight? I see you're not breastfeeding her."

Mariya thought to herself, 'How can a cow be burdened by its horn?'

Out loud, she said, "I'll finish soon, Iya."

"Then put her down to play with the other children. This big girl is sitting on your lap. You should have another child to give her a sibling. You've wrapped yourself up and refused to have more children. Try to have another one, maybe God will give you a fair-skinned one. This girl's ugliness is too much. After all, she inherited this darkness and ugliness from your family. Barebari people are as black as the sins of the first people."

Mariya lowered her head and remained silent, feeling the sting of these words, but there was nothing she could do. She forced a smile and said, "That's Iya for you. This granddaughter of yours will surprise you. When she grows up and brings you a wealthy suitor, one who will take you to Mecca."

Iya spat out her chewing stick and said, "With this darkness and ugliness? Men are after fair-skinned women. Who will take this ugly baggage? Even her eyes are enough to prevent her from getting married. Her eyes are scary, like remnants of witchcraft, always wide open like pieces of charcoal."