He lay restlessly on his bed, which Nigerians refer to as a 6-by-6. However, he felt the incredibly soft mattress and the white bedsheet that was also very soft, and just by looking at it, you could tell. The way he breathed heavily and sweated, his body would confirm that he had just finished training. He wore a small JC shorts that barely covered his thighs and a shirt. He also had the kind of shoes known to footballers on his feet. His body was sprawled on the bed with his legs hanging off the edge. A heavy breeze blew as he opened his eyes, which were squinting. There was no joy in him, as his face looked more sullen than anyone knew him to be, showing signs of distress.

With vigor that showed complete physical health, he sat up beautifully, took a small breath, and grimaced as he began to remove his shoes. He tossed them aside and stood up, grabbing his shirt and throwing it to the ground in a fit of irritation. He headed towards the long glass that was like a wall in his spacious bedroom. He reached out and pressed a small green button. Slowly, the glass began to separate into two, creating a door. He entered, feeling a bit irritated, and a clean toilet appeared before him, making me feel like a voyeur. He headed straight under the shower, letting the water wash over him as he released a heavy sigh of relief.

Aliyu Mika'il Idris Mawashi, known as Smart Mawashi in the football world, had just returned to the UK three months ago, signing with Queen City club in London. Despite being a small club, we hoped it would become a stepping stone for him unexpectedly. Now, the Smart we knew before, who was quiet and reserved, had changed. He was no longer quiet; he had even learned to be mischievous. This change occurred due to the unfortunate events that transpired in the past three months, marking a significant point in his life. At that time, he had finished preparing and planning to build an exciting and fulfilling life with his wife. He had intended to take all his trust and life’s burdens to hand over to her. But the story changed as he wrote it in his heart, turning into a script of fate. His wife had left him just as his dream of becoming one of the football stars in another country was fulfilled. Gradually, everything began to replay in his mind as if it were happening right now.

(After leaving the house that day, he headed home, filled with worry about the situation he had put Lulu in. He found Asma'u at work, as Ammah had sent her to Aunt Bilkisu's house. Only Maryam and Ammah were there. He barely exchanged pleasantries with his mother before informing her that he had come to take one of them, Maryam, because Mawaddat was unwell. Ammah's concern grew, and without waiting for Abba, she told him to take Maryam and that when Abba returned, she would inform him, as she suspected that Lulu might be pregnant. Quickly, Maryam got ready, taking the porridge they had prepared to go with him to eat, as they hadn't even had a meal yet. In no time, they arrived since it was morning and there was no heavy traffic. However, when they saw the living room door open with the book he had seen earlier on Lulu's bed lying at the entrance, it indicated that someone had mistakenly left it open, and he felt a sense of dread. But he gathered his courage and they entered; in the living room, Maryam sat while he headed to his bedroom, telling her to go to Lulu's room while he came. Maryam replied, and he went to his room. It wasn't long before he came out. He stood still, seeing Maryam looking confused and restless. "Are you okay? Don't go in, I'm coming." Quickly, Maryam turned to him, responding, "Brother, Auntie isn't in there. I checked the toilet, and no one is inside, not even in the kitchen, but everything in her wardrobe is scattered, and even a box was left behind as if someone rushed to leave." A heavy weight pressed on his chest, and he hurried to the room. Just as Maryam had informed him, he saw that indeed, there was nothing useful left in the room. His legs began to tremble, but he continued to steady himself. His eyes fell on a piece of paper on the bed, and he picked it up. I hate you, Aliyu, I don't want to see you again in my life, but go, I leave you to Allah, the accursed. Your preaching was all a deception; you didn't practice what you preached. Forget about me forever, for I have created a distance between us like the distance between heaven and earth, east and west. If you struggle to find me, it's because no one can make me be with you again, not even Uncle Yousuf. He felt a shiver run through him as he quickly sat up, mentioning the name of Allah. He sat there for a long time, his face contorted until Maryam grew tired of waiting and entered the room. Her heart raced at seeing how their brother had unraveled in such a short time. She called out to him, but he raised his hand, signaling her to leave and give him space. She was frightened, so she quickly exited. It seemed like she had barely stepped out for a minute when Ahmad's call came in. She quickly picked up her phone. They didn't even exchange pleasantries before she began to tell him what was happening. Ahmad's face fell as he listened, and in no time, he was there.