Aisha Musa Auyo

By Aisha Musa Auyo 

Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un. I am still struggling to absorb the shock of Baba Ahmad’s passing. Saying goodbye to a father, mentor, and teacher whose impact on my life cannot be overstated is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I owe my Doctorate in Educational Psychology entirely to him. Among all the paths I could have taken in life, he was the one who steered me toward this field.

I was sixteen, in my first year, when I walked into Educational Psychology 001 and met Prof. Ahmad for the first time. Back then, I resented studying education when all I had ever wanted was medicine. But his intellectual energy, his rigour, and his sheer passion changed something in me. I remember thinking, so there’s a medical side to education, a psychology that isn’t strictly clinical. This is it. This is what I should specialise in. The workings of the human mind had always fascinated me, and the learning theories he introduced us to were captivating, made simple by his rare gift for turning abstract ideas into something anyone could grasp.

That evening, I told my father about this brilliant professor. He smiled. “We went to secondary school together, in Hadejia,” he said. “Prof. Abubakar, too, from educational psychology, also from Hadejia. They’re your fathers as well. You should go and greet them sometime.”

When I finally did, before I could even say a word, he looked at me and said my name. “You’re Aisha Auyo. Your resemblance to your father is striking.” We wouldn’t cross paths again until I returned for my master’s.

He was nothing short of supportive through it all. During my defence, he could be stern, but it was the kind of sternness that steadied rather than shook you. “Aisha, kinga, dukanmu nan mu iyayenki ne. Ki kwantar da hankalinki.” Aisha, look, all of us here are your parents. If there’s anything you don’t understand, we will always be here to help and guide you.”

Whenever Prof. Ahmad spoke about psychology and research, you understood immediately that you were in the presence of someone who had mastered his craft. There was no corner of educational psychology, no angle, including its Islamic dimensions, that he hadn’t explored. He designed curricula, taught, researched, supervised, and mentored thousands. How he managed to keep expanding his knowledge alongside everything else he carried never ceased to amaze me. Dedication, commitment, grit, passion….. that rare combination made him a force wherever he stood.

His mind absorbed and retained information in a way few others could. Many of us in educational psychology drew our energy from him. He pushed people to study even on the days they had no will left to. His influence stretched across Northern Nigeria and beyond.

Students called him the “Dodo” of every defence session because if you tried to cut corners or talk your way around a gap in your work, he would catch it from a single glance. He could smell unpreparedness from a mile away, and he had no patience for laziness or carelessness, which led some to assume he lacked warmth. He didn’t. He was simply a principled man who valued hard work and honesty. Behind that exacting exterior was a humble, selfless, generous soul who helped more people than most of us will ever know.

I remember a conference in Gombe, when he learned I was staying with family friends instead of with him. He was furious and immediately tried to change the arrangement. “Aisha ba ki da inda ya fi cancanta ki zauna fiye da gidana a garin Gombe”. Aisha, there is nowhere more fitting for you to stay in Gombe than my house. He was on sabbatical at the time. When my hosts came to collect me, he kept insisting, “Diyata ce fa. Babanta yana nan” …She is my daughter. Her father is right here. Eventually, we compromised: two days with my hosts, two days with him. He opened his home to so many students, and those days were full of warmth and laughter.

When I finished my master’s defence, relieved and overjoyed that I was finally done, he called my father to congratulate him and urged him to push me back for a PhD. My father called and said, “Babanki Dr Kaugama ya ce ki dawo PhD”. Your father, Kaugama, says you should return for your PhD. I told him I would, just not yet, in sha Allah, someday soon.

My father never let it go. Every time we spoke, while I was in Ogun, he reminded me about the PhD. Your father, Ahmad, says you will have all the support you need. That was how I found myself buying the form and sitting the aptitude test. When he saw me in the exam hall, he lit up. “Aisha, I know you’ll ace this,” he said. “Kina da ƙoƙari da himma” Those words carried me through. I told myself I would not let down everyone who believed in me. Alhamdulillah, I passed and was given admission number 00001 that year.

During my PhD coursework exams, he once noticed my hands trembling and asked what was wrong. “I’m hungry, sir, I haven’t eaten,” I admitted. I had been reading and lost track of time. He told me, plainly, that as an educational psychologist, I ought to know better that the brain runs on food. He said, You need it to read, to understand, to recall, to organise your thoughts. He asked what I wanted to eat and went out himself to arrange it. I couldn’t write a word until I had eaten. Once I was full, he said, “Now continue your paper. I won’t add a single second for you. Time off is time off, for everyone.” I wrote as fast as I could and managed to answer every question. I never made that mistake again.

After my PhD viva, I asked to take a photo with him. “Aisha, ba ni da lokaci,” he teased. “Baba, you forced me to come back for this program,” I reminded him. “Remember how you called my father?” He laughed. “Yes, I remember everything.” “Then I’m forcing you to take this picture with me,” I said. “You’re part of my academic journey. You’re the reason I fell in love with educational psychology.” We took a few photos together and said our goodbyes.

Baba Ahmad was a father to many. His home was always full of orphans and relatives from Kaugama. He was a comrade, a tireless community man, a teacher in the truest sense. His death is an immense loss to his immediate family, to the NISEP family, and to every endeavour he poured himself into. May his contributions to academia continue to benefit him in this life and the next.

When I heard the news, my first thought was: Will he meet my father there? Allah ya yi musu rahama da gafara duka. Allah ya kula da bayansa. Allah ya hada mu duka a Aljanna.

May Allah grant them mercy and forgiveness, watch over those they left behind, and reunite us all in Paradise.

Aisha Musa Auyo, PhD, is an Educational Psychologist, author, and media professional passionate about translating research into practical, everyday impact. She writes on parenting, family dynamics, and education, drawing from both professional expertise and personal experience. Aisha is also a parenting and relationship coach and the founder of Eesher Auyo’s Empire. She is based in Abuja, Nigeria.

By Aisha Musa Auyo, PhD 

I first learned about a tongue-tie when my third son, Anwar, was admitted to the hospital due to a high fever. I was to share a room with another patient, and I was furious. I told the nurses I would prefer to stay in the corridor rather than share a room. I hate sharing rooms, especially in a hospital.

“The amenity room is fully booked. A patient will soon leave, and you’ll be transferred there,” a nurse told me.

I kept whining and complaining. My husband kept saying I should be patient…..“it’s just for a few days.” In my mind, I was like, you’ll never understand what it means to share a hospital room, because you’ve never experienced it. It’s easier said than done.

I accepted defeat and entered the room. Anwar was crying so loudly that he drew the other patient’s attention. In my mind, I thought, you see why I avoid sharing rooms…. I dislike inconveniencing others. I didn’t think the patient would be able to sleep with that noise.

One of the women attending to the other patient asked me, “Do you know that your son has a tongue-tie?”

I said no. What’s a tongue-tie? I had never heard of it.

She told me to look at his tongue while he was crying and said I would see a tissue-like thread holding it, meaning the tongue isn’t free. When I checked, I saw it was very visible.

I asked her more about it, and she explained that it’s natural for some babies to be born with it. Usually, doctors notice it and remove it shortly after birth. But if it isn’t addressed early, it may require a minor surgery to remove it. Anwar was about six months old then.

I thanked her and asked for the way forward. She recommended a paediatrician.

Before the procedure, I read about tongue-tie from over a hundred sites, and spoke to more than ten doctors… lol. It turned out to be a minor surgical procedure that didn’t take more than a minute, since he was still a baby. It gets more complicated with age.

From my research, I also learned that Anwar’s feeding difficulty was likely caused by a tongue-tie.

Many children with tongue-tie may also experience:

– Speech difficulties, especially with sounds like “t”, “d”, “l”, “r”, “s”, and “th”

– Unclear or slightly slurred speech

– (Though not every child with tongue-tie has speech issues, it can contribute)

Other possible effects include:

– Oral hygiene challenges (difficulty clearing food, increased risk of tooth decay)

– Eating difficulties (trouble licking, swallowing, or moving food around the mouth)

– Dental or jaw development issues (such as gaps or bite alignment problems)

– Social or psychological effects, like reduced confidence due to speech or tongue movement limitations

Anwar’s procedure (frenotomy) was done seamlessly, and everything returned to normal. Alhamdulillah.

After that experience, I made it a point to pay closer attention to babies. I realised it’s quite common, yet not widely known. I’ve made it a personal responsibility to educate parents about it before it becomes complicated.

There’s also a lesson here:

1. Not everything we dislike is bad. Sometimes, what we resist is exactly what we need….or what will benefit us the most.

2. I hate sharing rooms with strangers because I don’t want to inconvenience anyone or feel like a burden. But from that experience, I learned something valuable…. and now I’m sharing it with others. So maybe it’s not so bad after all. Hausa people say, “mutane rahama ne” (people are a blessing).

3. No matter your position, knowledge, number of children, or experience, there’s always something you don’t know. And there’s always something you can learn from others—their experiences, exposure, and expertise.

Anyway, when I gave birth to Azrah, my fourth child, I was subconsciously checking for tongue-tie—and I saw one! Hausa people, again, say: “Mai nema na tare da samu”… Bature yace: “He who seeketh… findeth.”

That was after a full check-up by nurses, doctors, and even a paediatrician. I brought it to their attention, and they confirmed it. The minor surgical procedure (frenotomy) was done four days after birth.

I hated the sight of blood on her tiny mouth, but what could I do? The earlier, the better. Alhamdulillah.

If you’ve learned something from this write-up, kindly share it so others can benefit too.

If you’d like to read more stories and reflections like this, drawn from real-life experiences, you can get my book Between Hearts and Homes for deeper, relatable insights into everyday life.

Aisha Musa Auyo, PhD, is an Educational Psychologist, author, and media professional passionate about translating research into practical impact. She writes on parenting, family, and education, drawing from expertise and personal experience. Aisha is also a parenting and relationship coach and founder of Eesher Auyo’s Empire in Abuja, Nigeria.

Author: Aisha Musa Auyo

Number of Pages: 184

Date of Publication: 2025

Publisher: Erkan Publishing-Nigeria

I just finished reading Dr Aisha Musa Auyo’s book, Between Hearts and Homes: Reflections on Faith, Love, and Everyday Life. It sure leaves a lasting impression…

The book feels like a heart-to-heart conversation with someone who has literally ‘lived life’, not just studied it.

What stands out immediately is how relatable it is. The tone used is not from a high or detached pedestal. It’s more like the tone of an older sister, a friend, or that person who tells you the truth whether you’re ready for it or not. From body image and self-awareness, to marriage, motherhood, perfume, clothes, and even shawarma cravings, using your cuisine as a comic relief… Everything feels real-life. It’s so easy to see oneself in the stories.

For example, the shawarma story hits hard. We’ve all said things like “I’ll do it tomorrow” or “next time.” But here, “next time” never came. That simple moment teaches a powerful lesson: don’t delay kindness or small acts of love, because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. That’s something everyone can relate to; whether it’s postponing a visit to a parent, delaying a call to a friend, or putting off saying “I love you.”

It’s also commendable that you used practical examples instead of abstract advice. It doesn’t just say “be kind”, it shows kindness through cooking for someone, helping neighbours, respecting professionals, and being intentional in relationships. It doesn’t just say “take care of yourself”; it talks about specifics, perfume, grooming, clothes, and your living space. Even something as simple as keeping your house smelling nice can be a lesson in self-respect and in creating a pleasant atmosphere. That’s everyday wisdom.

Another strong point is how brutally honest you were at some point without sugarcoating things. For instance, pointing out things like:

Openly talking about body shapes and dressing realistically.

Telling people to stop pretending body realities don’t exist.

Warning couples with an AS genotype to reconsider marriage, not out of cruelty, but out of concern for future pain.

That kind of honesty might make some people uncomfortable, but it’s refreshing. It’s not about trying to be politically correct; it’s about trying to be helpful.

Yet, despite the bluntness, the book still keeps a beautiful balance. It blends faith and daily life while tactfully fusing serious medical topics with soft emotional reflections. It also successfully blended romance with responsibility, self-care with modesty and so on.

If I’m being honest, I never knew that the inability to recognise people was a medical condition with a name (prosopagnosia), but that’s one thing I’ve also learnt from your book.

There were interesting discussions about prosopagnosia, sickle cell disease, parenting, and marriage, alongside perfume tips and fashion advice. That balance makes it feel complete, like life itself.

There’s also humour sprinkled throughout. Lines like “Don’t smell like a flower while the house smells like Daddawa” will make you laugh because it’s so true. Or when you mentioned dressing badly makes you look like Muciya da Zani at home, funny, but the message lands. The humour keeps the book light, even when it’s talking about heavy topics like death, genetics, or emotional struggles. Most importantly, the book carries serious ideas beneath the laughter, which made it more fun to read.

Most of all, you were able to pass key messages like: 

Be intentional in love.

Respect your neighbours, you never know when you’ll need them (the button incident was so scary to read. As a mother, I could relate so well).

Take care of your appearance for yourself and your partner.

Understand medical realities before making lifetime decisions.

Be patient with people who behave differently; they might be dealing with invisible conditions (the ID Card scenario of the lady with hearing impairments was quite touching). The personal stories, motherhood, interactions with neighbours, and dealing with loss make the lessons stick. It wasn’t about boring theory but more about fun and practical experiences.

I could go on and on…

In short, the book teaches without preaching, corrects without insulting, and entertains while educating. It’s funny in places, deep in others, and honest throughout. I laughed at some points and reflected at others. It will even make you start rethinking a few habits.

I just love how it generally reminds you that life is made of small moments, how you dress, how you speak, how you love, how you treat people, and that those small things matter more than we realise.

P.S- Meanwhile, I noticed two pages with small errors: one had a typographical mistake, and another contained a repetition. However, these are mere observations and don’t detract from the book’s powerful messages. A more thorough proofreading in future editions would help polish the work and make the reading experience even smoother.

Overall, these are very minor concerns in such an otherwise thoughtful and impactful book as yours. I look forward to more of this. Kudos and more power to your elbow, Ma’am!

Reviewed by:

Eunice Johnson (Southpaw), a UK-based media broadcaster, musician, actor, media consultant, and public relations expert, wrote via eunicejohnson001@yahoo.com.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

A Nigerian academic and writer, Dr. Aisha Musa Auyo, has announced the release of her new book titled Between Hearts and Homes. The book is a collection of articles drawn from her personal experiences, observations, and long-standing interest in human relationships.

In a post shared on her Facebook profile, seen by the Daily Reality on Sunday, Auyo stated that the book reflects her journey as an aspiring relationship expert and coach, with a strong focus on relationships between couples. She noted that her background played a major role in shaping her love for books and reflection.

Auyo recalled growing up in a home headed by librarian parents, where reading became a constant companion. She said her education spanned both secular and Islamic schools, and she devoted much of her free time to books. That lifestyle, she explained, affected her social interactions during childhood.

According to her, frequent bullying and repeated disappointments made her question her role in those experiences. That period later pushed her towards social psychology, as she sought to better understand herself and how people relate with one another.

Her studies and observations, she said, revealed the strong influence of family structures on individual behaviour. As divorce cases and unhappy marriages increased within her community, she developed a stronger desire to promote healthy relationships, especially among couples. She described happy families as the backbone of a stable society and a prosperous nation.

The author stated that the book draws lessons from her interactions with parents, siblings, husband, in-laws, friends, teachers, and students. She said she carefully reflects on these relationships, learns from them, and passes the lessons to her readers so they can gain insight without going through similar difficulties. Responses and discussions from readers, she added, have continued to deepen her understanding of relationship matters.

Auyo also revealed her experience in offering free marital and parenting coaching, which exposed her to the realities many families face. She said this experience expanded her understanding of the challenges linked to marriage and interpersonal relationships.

Through Between Hearts and Homes, the author said she aims to present a realistic picture of marital and other relationships, while encouraging more understanding and compassion in interactions between spouses and within society.

She added that her broader objective is to address common relationship issues and support the well-being of individuals and the community at large.

The book is available in paperback in Nigeria, while readers across the world can access it on Amazon in both paperback and Kindle formats.

By Muhammad Sulaiman

A regular contributor to The Daily Reality’s opinion section, Aisha Musa Auyo, has successfully defended her PhD dissertation in Educational Psychology at Bayero University, Kano (BUK).

Dr Auyo’s doctoral research, titled “Influence of Achievement Motivation, Academic Self-Concept, Emotional Regulation and Locus of Control on the Academic Achievement of Public Secondary School Students in Kano and Jigawa States of Nigeria,” marks a significant contribution to the study of learning behaviour and student performance in northern Nigeria.

Her achievement comes after six years of rigorous academic work and dedication. Described by her husband, Dr AC Abdullahi Maiwada, as “an authentic product of BUK,” Dr Auyo was born, raised, educated, and married within the university community, where she obtained all her degrees.

Academia also runs deep in her family. Her parents, Prof. Musa Auyo and Dr Hadiza Umar, both serve in BUK’s Department of Library and Information Science, while her husband, Dr Maiwada, holds a PhD in Mass Communication. Her parents-in-law are also accomplished academics, making the Auyo-Maiwada family one deeply rooted in scholarship.

The Daily Reality congratulates Dr Auyo on her outstanding achievement and wishes her continued success in her academic and professional pursuits.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

I preach kindness every now and then—kindness to a spouse, kids, parents, relatives, and others in our lives. But today, I want to dwell on the most crucial kindness… kindness to oneself.

This is a kindness that goes beyond this dunya (this world); a kindness that rewards you with the best of here and the hereafter. Being kind to oneself has many faces, but I’ll discuss the most important ones here:

Prioritising the Akhirah Over the Dunya

This world is merely a temporary place. Try as much as you can to resist the temptation of indulging in sins. Strive to stop any act that you would not love to die doing. Stop procrastinating regarding good deeds. We do not know when our lives will end; no one gives us notice. We owe ourselves this profound kindness: preparing for the inevitable.

The Investment of Sadaqah (Charity)

Giving out sadaqah, even if it’s merely half a date, expiates sins and prevents tragedy. We often spend a great deal on ourselves without calculation, yet when it comes to giving to others, we hold back and start calculating. What we forget is that whatever we give out is multiplied and comes back to us many times over. Whatever we spend only on ourselves ends here.

But you see, when we make other people’s lives easier, lessen their burden, or make them feel better, Allah multiplies that, and the reward is for both here and the hereafter. Whenever we spend on ourselves, let’s try to include those who are less privileged. We are not only helping others; we are being incredibly kind to ourselves beyond this dunya.

The Perpetual Reward of Sadaqah Jariyah (Ongoing Charity)

Let’s discuss Sadaqah Jariyah—a charity, in which the reward continues to reach you even after your death. We can achieve this through various means, such as investing in raising pious children, teaching the Quran, performing good deeds, drilling a source of water, contributing to an Islamic school or any other worthy cause, even if we can’t afford to sponsor it entirely, planting trees, etc.

We benefit more from this benevolence than the people it was intended for. We truly owe it to ourselves to show this type of kindness.

Cultivating Great Relationships

Cultivating good relationships with others, elevating their mood and ranks, making them feel great about themselves, and improving the quality of their lives are powerful ways we can be kind to ourselves. These are the investments that make people miss us and sincerely pray for us after we are gone. We owe this kindness to ourselves—being able to invoke the feeling of longing, missing, and praying for us when we are no longer here.

Sustaining Spiritual Well-being; keeping our mouth moist with Zikr (remembrance of Allah), Istighfar (seeking forgiveness), and Salawat (blessings upon the Prophet); reading the Quran; and constantly upgrading our knowledge and practice of our Deen (religion) is a kindness to ourselves that we should never compromise.

Integrity and Truthfulness

Saying the truth, having integrity and decency, minding one’s business, and having a halal (lawful) source of income is a profound kindness we owe ourselves, for this will be a shield from the Hellfire.

Simple, multiplied deeds

You see, a simple gesture—smiling at strangers, a kind word, an encouraging nod, removing a harmful object from the road, helping or feeding animals, or watering a plant—will go a long way in benefiting us here and hereafter. Angels are praying to Allah that whoever gives out, may Allah increase his wealth, and whoever withholds his wealth, may Allah withhold His blessings from him. So we should never forget that whatever we do, small or big, we shall receive it in multiples.

Being Intentional

One crucial thing I’d like to remind us here is to be intentional about everything we do. Let’s always ensure that our deeds and actions, big or small, are motivated by the reward of our Creator. Let every action or inaction emanate from the craving for Allah’s Rahma (Mercy) and the fear of His punishment. This, indeed, is the biggest kindness we owe ourselves.

Lemme stop here..

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in educational psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting, and a relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

The second story that inspired this reflection is the death of an acquaintance. She was the HR of a company that once offered me a job as an editor. We had exchanged emails, and I went there in person to explain why I couldn’t take up the role. That first visit also turned out to be my last. The company’s owner is a friend, so it was easy to discuss things openly.

After hearing me out, she understood my situation as a young mother. She said she had once been in my shoes and offered some warm advice, assuring me that the company would always welcome me if I were ready in the future. As I was about to leave, she asked about the fragrance I was wearing. She said, “The whole office is filled with your scent. It’s so calming.”

I explained that it wasn’t a regular perfume but Turaren Wuta (incense) and humra. She smiled and said she was familiar with them but had never come across such heavenly scents before. I promised to send her some to try.

It was a casual conversation, but I took it to heart. I packed black and white humra with some incense and gave them to my driver for delivery, as I was travelling at the time. Days turned into weeks, with excuse after excuse from him. When I called her, she said she never got his call, and even if she wasn’t around, he could have left the package at the office.

Back from my trip, I retrieved the parcel and handed it to another driver. Again, excuses. Frustrated, I shared my ordeal with a family member. She dismissed my worry: “You’re overreacting. This woman has probably forgotten about the incense. She doesn’t owe you anything. Why stress yourself over this?”

But deep down, I couldn’t let it go. Something urged me on. I said, “Whatever it takes, I’ll do this delivery myself, I insisted. The family member teased me, calling me stubborn, “Aisha kina da naci wallahi, kin damu kowa a kan abin da ba shi da mahimmanci”. I said na ji. It felt as though everything, including the universe, was determined to stop me from sending that gift.

Finally, when I demanded the second driver return the parcel so I could deliver it personally, he apologised and promised to take it that week. Two days later, she sent me a message, thanking me warmly. She said, “It was worth the wait.” I apologised for the delay, and that was the last time we spoke.

This week, I received the news of her death. She had been battling a heart condition. I remembered how she once mentioned wanting to lose weight for health reasons. My heart sank. I prayed for her soul and felt profoundly grateful that I had managed to give her something she wanted before her passing. Suddenly, I understood why my instincts had been so insistent.

The lesson is clear: never postpone kindness. Please do it now, because tomorrow is never promised.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in educational psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting, and a relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

When you can be kind and helpful, do it immediately. Don’t procrastinate or wait for the “right time.” You may not live to see that time, or the person you want to help may not. The point of power is always now.

I’m inspired to share this because two recent incidents made me reflect deeply. One was the death of a close relative, the other, the passing of an acquaintance I only met once but stayed connected with through social media.

In the first incident, an aunt of mine came from another town for her monthly hospital appointment. She usually arrived a day before to avoid being late. That evening, after visiting some relatives, she spotted a shawarma shop and sighed: “Zan so na ci shawarma ko da sau ɗaya ne a rayuwata” (“I would love to taste shawarma at least once in my life”).

My cousin, who was driving, ignored her words and sped past. I pleaded with him to go back, but he insisted the shop was closed and wouldn’t open until 7 p.m., which is true. My aunt looked disappointed.

Later at home, I begged him again to get me shawarma bread so I could prepare it for her. He brushed it off, saying he was tired, and reminded me she’d be leaving early the next morning. “You can always make it for her next month,” he said. But my heart wouldn’t allow me to postpone it.

Eventually, he bought the bread, and I stayed up late preparing the fillings, finishing by midnight. I set my alarm for 4 a.m., woke up, rolled, and grilled the shawarma. By 5 a.m., it was ready. When I handed it to her, she was overjoyed. She couldn’t believe I went to such lengths to fulfil her simple wish. She prayed for me with a smile, and we said our goodbyes.

Later that day, she called to say she had arrived home safely and that my shawarma exceeded her expectations. She even saved some to take home. Though I joked, it must have been cold by then. She prayed again for me before hanging up the phone.

A few days later, she passed away.

I was in shock. Just last week, she was with us, longing for shawarma. I wept, but deep down, I thanked Allah that I didn’t delay. That shawarma became her first and last.

The lesson is clear: never delay an act of kindness. Tomorrow is not promised for you or for them.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in Educational Psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting and relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

Let me start with this adage: being predictable is boring. The only way to keep attracting your man is by constantly exciting him.

A woman’s unpredictability and mystery can add excitement and intrigue to a relationship, keeping things fresh and engaging. This sense of mystery fosters curiosity and a desire to continually learn more about her, which can help prevent complacency. By maintaining an air of unpredictability, a woman can inspire her partner to stay attentive and actively invested, enhancing emotional and romantic connections.

A classy woman in a relationship exudes respect, grace, and self-confidence. She values herself and her partner, communicates maturely, and maintains her dignity even in challenging situations. Her elegance comes through her kindness, understanding, and ability to express love while setting healthy boundaries. This balance makes her an inspiring and cherished partner.

There are many ways to display charm and sophistication in everyday life.

When it comes to names, choosing affectionate ones for your spouse can depend on the mood, occasion, and shared history. Some days, you can be casual and warm, like “My love,” “Sweetheart,” or “Habibi.” At other times, use respectful titles like “Sir,” “Ranka ya dade,” “Alangubro,” or “Yallabai.”

Use playful nicknames on fun and flirty days (I won’t drop examples here, yauwa). During special moments, use affirming and supportive names like “My Hero” or “My Rock.”

In terms of dressing, if you’re always wearing native wear, surprise him with bum shorts and a spaghetti top. Or try a clingy evening gown or a see-through nightie. Let him know you possess what those Ashawos flaunt, except yours is reserved for his eyes alone.

When styling clothes, try different outfits that give you a new look and poise. We love comfort, but we can still make comfort look sexy and appealing.

Before experimenting with style, know your body type. Know what flatters your figure and what doesn’t. You can’t wear a fitted gown with a big tummy or bum shorts with bow legs. If you’re Qashi da Rai, avoid bubu—it may make you look like Muciya da Zani at home. Yauwa! This isn’t body shaming—it’s being real.

On perfume: know that perfume is the silent language of emotions. A single scent can lift a mood, stir memories, and instantly transform feelings. Use perfume to your advantage at home. It’s a soft weapon of attraction.

Learn to use scents to evoke peace, desire, and comfort. Use different perfumes for the day, night, special occasions, or even just to create a relaxing atmosphere. If you stick to one scent, he might get used to it, and it may lose its effect. Find out which scents he likes and rotate them. Explore English and Arab perfumes, humra, oils, kulaccam, incense, body mist, body milk, body sprays, bath mists—you name it. And remember: your house should smell pleasant too. Don’t smell like a flower while the house smells like Daddawa! Set the tone with your space, then yourself.

Nana Aisha (RA) said:

“I used to perfume the Prophet (peace be upon him) with the best perfume I could find until I saw the shine of the perfume on his head and beard.” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 5923)

When it comes to homemaking, we must constantly evolve. If you can’t change furniture often, update your space with small touches: new decor, decluttering, rearranging, or freshening up your environment. Minimal furnishing in small spaces often gives the cleanest look. Keep the house neat and germ-free. Fumigate regularly, burn incense, and use home mists, fresheners, and mopping sprays.

On behaviour—this is tricky, because we can’t be who we are not, but we can improve. If you’re naturally moody, try being more cheerful around your man. A cheerful wife is a huge turn-on. Be the woman he rushes home to. This way, he’ll notice quickly when something is off.

Avoid nagging. Often, a gentle reminder or silence works better than complaints. Be calm when he expects arguments, and then ‘show him shege’ when he least expects it—that’s the art of being unpredictable with a touch of sophistication. But this only works if your man is mature and understanding.

If you have the freedom and mutual understanding in your relationship, playfully surprise him by pretending to be away—perhaps plan a two-day trip, but return after just one. Welcome him with a good meal, a new nightie, and a memorable evening. Or, if he’s open to it, surprise him at work or send a special lunch to brighten his day.

If you always cook continental dishes, try traditional meals sometimes. If you usually serve food plainly, try plating and garnishing. Serve kunun tsamiya instead of a smoothie, or fresh juice instead of fruit salad. Don’t be the woman who only cooks shinkafa da miya and tuwo. Learn, upgrade, and initiate.

For hairstyles, try different braids or updos—ponytails, doughnuts, Kitson GABA, all-back, Calabar styles, etc.- but choose based on your hair type. Don’t insist on a style that doesn’t suit your hair. Most importantly, keep your hair clean and fragrant.

In Oza’s other room, learn to initiate intimacy. Don’t be the boring wife who waits for her husband to make the first move. A wife initiating intimacy strengthens emotional and physical bonds, makes her husband feel desired and valued, and breaks the assumption that one partner must always lead intimacy. It deepens connection, enhances communication, and fosters a more fulfilling relationship.

Also, explore different styles to keep things exciting and mutually satisfying.

If you’re used to black henna, try red or maroon. If you always wear ‘daurin ture ka ga tsiya, switch to turbans or different gele styles.

Sometimes, soften your voice—lower your tone and speak gently when needed. I heard there’s a tone called bedroom voice, right?

If you’re usually strong and independent, try being soft and playful sometimes.

If you’re always asking for money, ease up on small requests, especially when he’s managing big expenses. Surprise him instead with a perfume, shoes, a book, attire, pyjamas, a watch, or a ring. You shouldn’t always be the one expecting gifts. That’s why we say ‘ki nemi kudi, Lantana’.

And to you, Dan Lami or Man Sagir, know that all this charm, sophistication, versatility, and surprise can’t happen if you are too strict, stingy, or overbearing. You must be friendly and generous with your words, smiles, time, emotions, and yes, your wallet. Yauwa.

Lemme stop here….

Aisha Musa Auyo is a doctoral researcher in Educational Psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, a caterer, a parenting, and relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

I will begin my write-up with this Hadith: Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said, “Nothing is heavier on the believer’s scale on the Day of Judgment than good character.” (Sunan al-Tirmidh).

If we pay attention and are fair to ourselves, I bet you will realise that none of us is perfect. We all have areas in our lives where we excel, and we all have areas where we do not excel – or even fail. This will be true in your marital life as well. So, let us try to upgrade our character based on this fact.

Marriages collapse for many reasons. Some marriages and relationships go wrong because people fail to praise each other’s strengths and tend to criticise each other’s weaknesses. 

Let me tell you from experience. I love getting praise when I do something good, but if I totally blow something, I am already critical and upset enough with myself that I do not need my mate coming in and twisting the knife, so to speak. I am pretty sure everyone out there would agree with me on this. 

If you want to approach marriage the right way, you must generously praise each other, particularly when one excels at something, and use criticism sparingly when one flounders. Pray about the challenges and allow Allah, the Most High, to handle the work. 

Crushing your spouse’s soul will only push them away and never pull them toward you. When you see your spouse has messed something up, this is a time to draw them into your arms, hug them tight, and assure them everything will be okay. 

Marriage is teamwork, not competition, so learn to support and encourage each other. If you discover that you have strengths in areas where your spouse is weaker, take the lead in those aspects of the relationship and allow your partner to excel in what they do best. This synergy is achievable only in a healthy, selfless, progressive marriage.

If you both struggle in an area, agree to collaborate to address it. Learning to use this key effectively will create tremendous harmony in your relationship.

This formula can be applied beyond marital relationships. Any type of relationship can benefit from it, including those between parents and children, teachers and students, siblings, coworkers, or employers.

In a world where you can be anything…. choose positivity, compassion, empathy, and kindness. Remember, people may forget how you look, but they may never forget how you made them feel.

One more reason to be kind, encouraging, and compassionate is the hadith that the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “The best among you are those who have the best manners and character” (Sahih al-Bukhari).

Aisha Musa Auyo is a Doctorate researcher in Educational Psychology. A wife, a mother, a homemaker, caterer, parenting, and relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@live.co.uk.