Relationship

By Hafsat Jaafar 

2024 was an amazing and memorable year that changed my life. Having my parents and siblings alive is one of the most joyous gifts of life, for they give me a positive vibe. My mother and siblings support me through every phase of life in whatever path (good) I walk. 

I got a job with a popular private primary school around September 2023, and it was one of the most challenging working environments. I was new to teaching kids, new working environments, colleagues, and different standards/sets of rules. My mother and siblings supported me with the ‘you-can-make-it’ idea when I thought about quitting for certain reasons and incidents. 

I finally persevered through every hardship, believing that challenges are part of growth and experience. This experience made me realise that not all that glitters is gold, and not everyone you meet at your workplace who smiles and laughs with you is a true friend, though I made many friends who are like family.

For all the years I have been a teacher, teaching kids has been one of my best experiences and has changed many thingsin my life. Kids tend to give you joy and hope. Seeing them happy brings a sense of satisfaction to your soul, for they have no worries and don’t even know what life is about. They only care to be given whatever they wish or request, no matter the circumstances. ‘NO’ is not an answer to them.

Technological Kids, as I call them, are always curious; they ask many questions and expect you to know all the answers and everything in the world. Being an adult, they tend to see you as their role model, parent, doctor and saviour. They are the coolest, most annoying, innocent beings you would ever meet. 

One of the most memorable moments of my life was getting an offer for a teaching job. I wasn’t expecting it to come soon, but God was so kind that my prayers were answered. When a call came in about the job, I thought it was a scam,so I ignored it. My father was called and informed, and that was when it dawned on me that the call was for real.

My relationship of three years–we have already been friends for about six years–crashed and collapsed like the national grid in Nigeria. It died a natural death. Turning a blind eye to things in a relationship matters a lot, but when it’s been toxic with many red flags, letting go of whatever and whoever you are dating matters the most for your safety and mental health. It takes a lot of courage to do that, though. It was one of the most challenging decisions I ever made in 2024.

December, the last month of the year, comes with festivities, especially weddings. We were invited to many weddings. The one that stood out was that of a family friend, who is Kanuri: paternal side Yusufari, Yobe state, Nigeria and maternal Niamey, Niger Republic. 

The coming together of two countries with diversified cultures and traditions gave a unique picture of how the two ethnic groups, though from the same country, celebrate weddings as one of the most important events in a person’s life.

Events are celebrated with lots of food, especially snacks,fura (a different kind with chunks of cheese), grilled meat garnished with lots of vegetables, and bread (French bread). Guests are considered among the most important people and are treated with the utmost respect, especially elderly people. Their attire, Laffaya (a wrap around the entire body with a colourful fabric), is one of the most unique and modest modes of dressing for which the Kanuris are known.

Incense will be burned throughout any event, indoor or outdoor; it’s like a necessity in every part of their lives, creating an aromatic environment that changes their mood from being gloomy to a vibrant person. 

Three different languages are the means of communication between the two tribes (Kanuri, French, and Zarma), though some understand English, while a few speak the Hausa language. The wedding is one of the most elegant, colourful and the most expensive of the year 2024 that I have attended.

This year, I learned three lessons: to leave people where they are, accept situations for what they are, and realise that not every action needs a reaction. 

Come 2025. In sha Allah, I look forward to success, blessings, a calm heart, a peaceful soul, and lots of love.

Hafsat Ja’afar wrote from Kano via jaafarhafsat@gmail.com.

By Aisha M Auyo

“She’s very arrogant. Who the hell does she think she is? ita ba kowa ba sai girman kai, wai Auyo ce zata nuna bata ganemu ba? Why will Auyo pretend not to recognise us after all our years together? (My friends, acquaintances, coursemates, and relatives).

“Aunty Hadiza, Aisha fa bata gaidamu, idan mun hadu dauke kai take, abin mamaki da takaici“. (My mother’s friends and colleagues complain with disappointment that I don’t greet them whenever we meet.)

“Anti-Binta, Aisha fa matar Abdullahi in ta gammu yi take kamar bata sanmu ba, yarinyar data taso a gabanmu? Bata san mune sirikanta ba, we can do and undo fa“. (My mother inlaw’s friends, relatives and colleagues complaining that I don’t respect them.)

“Baiwar Allah ban gane ki ba; I think you have mistaken me for someone else. We’ve never met”. (The strangers I greet with confidence and pride, thinking that I recognise someone I know). 

Does this sound familiar? These are the comments and remarks I’ve been hearing since my teens. Sometimes I explain to the complainants that it’s my eye problem; some people believe me, some do not, and they will say she’s just a snub. 

Then comments started coming from my friends or their parents that they’d greeted my mom, but she did not recognise them. I’ll apologise and explain to them that she finds it hard to identify people.

So when the complaints kept coming, I realised that mam and I have a common problem. So also Hafsa. The issue started eating me. I always pray that my eyes or memory should not fail me whenever I go out. 

Then greeting strangers become my new normal. I’ll see a person, assume that person is someone else, and even start exchanging pleasantries with them, only to see them surprised by my politeness, that they do not know me or the others I’m talking about. 

Then it occurred to me that this isn’t normal. Something must be wrong with us. Like we do great in school, we have a sharp ability to memorise and recall lessons and events, but why not people? I know we have sight problems, hence the use of constant eyeglasses, but why has our memory never failed us in school? Shebi na the same eye and brain we use to see people and read books?

So when my appointment with the optician came, I told him of this condition affecting my life. He explained that it’s a rare socio-medical condition that can be inherited or acquired later in life. I did my research and learned a lot about the condition. 

Here are a few things you should know about Prosopagnosia; perhaps you may encounter someone with such a condition.

Prosopagnosia (face blindness or facial agnosia) is a neurological disorder characterised by the inability to recognise faces. The term comes from the Greek words for “face” and “lack of knowledge.”

Depending upon the degree of impairment, some people with Prosopagnosia may only have difficulty recognising familiar faces, while others cannot discriminate between unknown faces. In severe cases, people may be unable to distinguish a face as different from an object. Some people are unable to recognise their faces. 

Prosopagnosia is only face blindness, not colour blindness or overall visual impairment. It is not the same as forgetfulness or sometimes struggling to find the right word.

This condition is unrelated to memory dysfunction, loss, impaired vision, or learning disabilities. The disorder is thought to result from congenital influence, damage, or impairment in a fold in the brain that appears to coordinate the neural systems controlling facial perception and memory (right fusiform gyrus). 

Congenital Prosopagnosia appears to run in families, making it likely to result from a genetic mutation or deletion. Some degree of Prosopagnosia is often present in children with autism and Asperger’s syndrome and may cause impaired social development.

Because there aren’t apparent brain lesions in people with congenital Prosopagnosia, scientists aren’t sure what causes it.

Prosopagnosia can be socially debilitating as individuals with the disorder often have difficulty recognising family members and close friends. They often use other ways to identify people, such as relying on voice, clothing, or unique physical attributes.

Evidence suggests that people with Prosopagnosia may become chronically anxious or depressed because of the isolation and fear that come with the condition. 

Navigating basic social interactions with Prosopagnosia can become fraught, and some people avoid contact with family members and other loved ones out of fear that they will not be able to recognise or address them adequately.

Sadly, there’s no treatment for Prosopagnosia, but there are ways to manage it. People with Prosopagnosia often focus on features like hair colour, walking style or voices to tell people apart.

So now you know, if you meet a person and he/she fails to recognise you, kindly be supportive and understanding. They may be suffering from this condition; trust me, it is debilitating for people suffering from it because It’s hard for others to understand. It may even cause depression in severe cases. 

And remember, before you assume, learn the facts; before you judge, understand why!

Aisha Musa Auyo is a Doctorate researcher in Educational Psychology, a wife, a mother of three, a Home Maker, a caterer and a parenting/ relationship coach.

By Usama Abdullahi 

Our car got stuck in poky traffic when I was heading home after visiting our ailing mother at the National Hospital Abuja last night. The motion was really slow, and that instantly made me feel bored. Also, a young lady was sitting close to me, making annoying phone calls and eating popcorn. I looked at everybody in the car, and they were all engrossed in their smartphones except the driver, who remained focused while driving. So I brought out my phone, rushed to my gallery and played a Hollywood clip. That’s how I decided to kill my boredom.

While watching the clip on my phone, the young lady sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder – indicating that she needed to talk to me. I felt her tapping but hesitated to turn until she tapped me again. 

This time I turned and stared at her curiously. She then asked if what I was watching was interesting. “Oh, yeah. It’s an interesting clip. Would you love to see it?” I asked. “Ah, no. I thought it was a movie”, she responded. After learning that what I was watching was just a clip and not a movie, she continued to make her phone calls. She’s holding an iPhone. Even though I didn’t see her face clearly, I could attest to her gorgeousness through the softness of her voice.

She was happily on the phone with her boyfriend when one of her broke guys called. Unluckily for him, she didn’t hang the call to attend to his call until she was done talking to the rich boyfriend. She didn’t even greet him when she finally picked up the broke guy’s call. Instead, she began to yell at him for not sending the money he had promised her the other day. I keenly listened to them till the very end. Mind you; I wasn’t eavesdropping because she put the phone on speaker. So, I did hear every single bit of their heated phone conversations.

I was disgusted by what she said to the broke guy. I pitifully imagined myself in his shoes. Although I’m hopeful that I will never be entangled in such a type of unavailing relationship, I felt and still feel for the poor guy.

This encounter has taught me a bitter lesson: how transactional relationships have become these days. Today, only a handful of women love their men unconditionally. Instead, most of them love their men because of their monetary status. I’m not saying that money doesn’t play a significant role in relationships. Of course, it does, but it’s saddening how some women have reduced relationships to lucrative businesses where they earn big money without even investing a dime.

And it’s equally saddening that some men, too, only entertain sexual relationships. This is why we are fast losing our modesty as a society. Any relationship sorely built on material gain is doomed to fail. Loyalty and patience are the most important things that usually keep a relationship going. Money cannot possibly keep your relationship afloat, but loyalty and patience can.

Usama Abdullahi writes from Abuja and can be reached via usamagayyi@gmail.com.

By Aisha Musa Auyo 

The famous marriage counsellor, Maryam Lemu, advised couples to ask themselves often if they are still the person their spouse fell in love with. The answer would help one reflect and recognise which area to concentrate on in order to improve their marital relationship.

But, how can one achieve this if they are oblivious of the qualities that attracted their partner in the first place? Why did your partner choose to spend an entire lifetime with you despite millions of others worldwide? What are the qualities that attracted them and made them want to be with you for the rest of their lives?

You should, at least, know more than half of those qualities that attracted your person significantly, if not wholly. These qualities may range from your looks to character, smile, skill, gestures, intelligence, or even the way you laugh. I know of a man who married his wife because of her loud laughter. He said the sound of her laughter makes his worries vanish. Unfortunately, and sadly, she stopped laughing after a life-changing event that occurred in their life. They lost their two kids to gunmen, and from that day, she lost herself. (Story for another day).

Men are creatures of few words. Women should pay attention to whatever they say or indicate the slightest interest in. If you are lucky your partner is outspoken, work is easier for you.

 I know life happens, and changes are inevitable, but we should always strive to bounce back or be better versions of ourselves. Laziness destroys marriage, and not improving ourselves and relationships is one of the commonest laziness in our lives. We find silly excuses, blame nature, work, kids, our significant others, and anything we can lay reasons on. But trust me, with willpower and dedication, we can improve our relationship daily with small, consistent steps.

This write-up is a wake-up call for you and myself as I have been slumbering too – I stopped writing almost entirely. I abandoned my PhD thesis completely, my relationship write-ups forgotten. In fact, I neglected even the short motivational and inspiring pieces I used to write.

And one of the qualities that attracted my husband (then boyfriend) to me was writing. He’s amazed by my ideas and intellect, my zeal and inspiration to write. He loves my wordings and spends time reading my childish drafts. So he supported and cheered me.

He even bought me a modem for browsing, research and online publishing… (At that time, when one could only access the internet in the cafe… When we used to pay 50 naira for 30min and 100naira for an hour of internet surfing time, so modem was a big deal). I embraced penning down ideas to the fullest and made sure I published at least one well-researched article daily.

Then life happened, and I changed. I was not too fond of typing anymore. I only want to read and move on. Sometimes my husband would say, “As a matter of fact, you are becoming lazy; you no longer write,” and I’d reply with excuses like school, taking care of the kids, and running a catering business ain’t a joke. They are all fables. I still get free hours to surf the internet.

Whenever I share with him a beautiful write-up by others, he would be like, “Great write-up! I just wish it were your words”. Still, I wasn’t bothered. It didn’t hit me hard till the day he invited me to listen to a radio programme where they invited writers and poets for discussion. He was so attentive and enthusiastic. Of course, the woman in me got pissed off, as the guest was a lady that day. I pretended to share his enthusiasm, but I was boiling inside. That night, I thought about myself and the lazy girl I had become.

The reflection reminded me of the many messages I received asking why I stopped writing. My blog followers become concerned, some disappointed. Finally, I made up my mind to try to be better. I know deep inside me I can do better. I need to rekindle that flame.

Tonight, ask yourself, what qualities attracted my spouse to you? Is that quality still present in you? Have you improved in that area? What should you do to rekindle that attraction?

 Remember, a happy couple produces happy and healthy kids, creating a healthy family, state, nation, and the world. So this single and simple effort can go a long way in improving the world.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a Doctorate researcher in Educational Psychology. A mother of three, a Home Maker, caterer and parenting/relationship coach.

By Aisha Musa Auyo

When I was in primary school, my grandmother visited us, and she was mesmerized by our nature-friendly environment. She said we were wasting resources by not utilizing the space with livestock. So she suggested animal rearing, that she would send a sheep first, and if all goes well, that sheep will give birth to many others, and in a few years, we will have a flock. She kept her words and sent a pregnant sheep. It was assigned to me since I’m the eldest.

The Fulani in me took over, and the bonding was natural for my sheep and me. I fed her morning and night. I brought her out and tied it with a rope in the afternoon for grazing. I then returned her to the barn in the evening. On a fateful Friday afternoon, I brought her out and tied her to a guava tree in our compound so that it would graze as usual.

I can’t recall what happened, but she cleverly freed herself. (That euphoria when a captive gains independence ). She walked, played, jumped and danced! Then, when she became aware of her absolute freedom, she began to run, somewhere far away from our house, and I followed her. The race continued, but I managed to hold the rope.

My sister went in to let my parents know of the happening. I was still holding the rope, but I fell while that ‘wicked’ sheep was still running. I was somersaulting and screaming but still managed to see my parents laughing like crazy outside. My world was spinning, and I had bruises all over my face.

Finally, when I couldn’t bear it anymore, I let go of the rope, thus the sheep, and as I managed to open my eyes, my parents were at the spot to pick me up, but still laughing at my stupidity. ‘Yar fari’ (first daughter), they all chorused! Firstborns are believed to be idiots!

They calmed me down, soothed my wounds and finally, they said, “This could be avoided. You should have simply let go of the rope and the sheep. She will come back”.

This is a life lesson I learned the hard way. I’m glad it happened in my early days of life, as within two days, the wounds healed, and all the bruises disappeared in a week. All thanks to the fruits and medication that I’ve been taking. But from that day, I learned to let go of anything I perceive as a threat to my life or my happiness with immediate effect.

My instincts always alert me of immediate danger, and I respond unhesitatingly. Sometimes even too early that people around me think I do not give people or situations the benefit of the doubt or that I make early conclusions. Still, better early than late. Letting go comes easy because I’ve learned before that holding on to what doesn’t want to stay leads to bruises, wounds and pain.

The recent trends in domestic abuse have made me think, how can we reduce this menace in the upcoming generations? How can we raise mentally sound and selfless generations that will not abuse and tolerate abuse? What are we doing in our power to sensitize our wards of this growing menace?

People, especially women, tend to hold on to their mental and physical abusers be they friends, husbands, relatives, house helps or any other person. They endure all kinds of pain and suffering while trying to hold on to what they think is theirs until they are finally bruised, injured, suicidal, or killed. That’s when they let go. No, this has to stop!

I’m not in the position to punish abusers, but the little I can do now is to enlighten you, the reader, to learn to let go of that which harms you or threaten your happiness and or well-being. Learn to follow your instincts, they are there for a reason, and most often than not, they don’t fail us.

May Allah protect us from abusers, amin. May we never abuse anything under our care, amin. May Allah give us the strength to leave that which will harm us. May we never get attached to what isn’t ours, amin. May the love and respect we give be appreciated and reciprocated, amin. May we see the light even in darkness, amin.

Aisha Musa Auyo is a Doctorate researcher in Educational Psychology. A mother of three, Home Maker, caterer, parenting and relationship coach. She can be reached via aishamuauyo@gmail.com.

By Zaynab Abdool

It’s winter morning, a new day, and I’m awake, Alhamdulillah. When my foggy gaze fell upon the aesthetic rays of sunshine that sneaked through the holes in the window, surged past the transparent curtains, and stood grandly on my bedroom’s plain wall, I couldn’t help but admire its gracious beauty while my soul sent praises to the creator of man and nature. 

‘Zainabuwa, what on earth are you still doing in bed? Reincarnating?’         

A lusty yet irritating voice accompanied by a loud knock sailed me back from my small world of imagination. That was Husna, my new friend who just moved next door a month ago. The love we both had for certain things, such as the love for books, poetry, cats, henna and hijab, truly helped blow the flames of our friendship. So, we were on good terms.    

Stepping down from my bed, I yawned lazily, ignoring the annoying voice behind the closed door. After taking off my crystalline PJ’s, I slipped on a black gown and strolled across my room to get to the door. Glowering Husna was all I saw before I was kicked aside, and the next was the elegant Husna clad in a light blue hijab that complemented her black skin, cat-walking towards my bed while reciting a poem with the zestiest voice ever:

‘Habibi, you carried          

The weight of my poem         

Like pen amidst thy fingers,          

You stole my lines, stanzas         

And my entire muse         

With just a blink.’

After listening to those lines, I was shocked out of my wits. 

‘WTF! I’ve always thought you’re only into dark poetry! Don’t tell me you wrote that piece!”

‘Babe, forget about those dark kinds of stuff, I’m a phoenix now, and I’ve finally found him,’ she said happily with stars in her eyes.

‘Him? Who?’ I asked, confused.’ My knight mana,’ she replied with a sly smile plastered on her pretty face.

‘Oh! Do you mean to tell me that you’ve found a handsome male lad in those web novels you downloaded lately?’

‘Damn! I found one last night, and he’s so damn amazing that I felt like dying in his arms…’

I scooped and sat beside her on the bed, rolling my eyes.

‘You’re a fool, you know?’, she reacted to my body language. 

‘Yeah, a pretty fool,’ I chuckled before adding: ‘You need to get back home and return after I had my breakfast. It’s hot milk and chips today.’

‘I hate milk and chips,’ she frowned.’ Oh, wow! Stay and feel at home then,’ I exclaimed gladly.

‘Stingy brat, now let’s discuss some serious kinds of stuff.’ 

‘Oh, okay, let’s discuss fast; I’m hungry,’ I yawned

‘My man’s birthday party is in five days and, of course, I will be there because I’m his queen,’ she stated happily. 

I stared blankly at her flushed face, uttering: ‘What’s she talking about,’ I thought, still finding it hard to believe what I just heard.

‘What man? What birthday party? What queen? Do you want to slay? Or you wanna join the movie industry?’ I asked hectically.

‘Yeah, babe, I wanna slay for my boo. He’s worth it,’ she replied while browsing through her phone’s gallery. ‘Here, meet my prince,’ she flashed me a photo on her screen which got me back from my blackout state. ‘Huh!’ My jaw dropped. All I saw was a bronze skin guy with dreadlocks, dressed in sophisticated cocktail attire. The stiff aura around him emits a strong ‘arrogant playboy’ vibe.

‘How on earth did she even meet him? He’s so disgusting,’ I thought. ‘Erm, hmm Husna yo…you fancy him? Erhm, I, I mean you love him?’ I asked in between stammers.

‘Yeah, I truly love him. He’s charming and amazing… He’s not what you’re thinking, Zainab. He’s an overall different person inside. Don’t judge him by his appearance.”

‘So, to you, he’s worth imitating to your future kids?’ I asked in a low muttering voice. 

‘Yes, at least that’s what I think, and nobody’s perfect anyway. So, what do you suggest I wear to the party? ‘He said I should appear as classy and sexy as possible, even though he claimed to do something about my black skin before the D-day. I still need to give in some effort, right?’

‘What nonsense!’ I thought.

‘Husna, you’ve changed,’ I whispered. She chuckled before saying, ‘love has changed me.’

‘What love? This is pure bullshit. Have your parents even acknowledged him?’ I asked, finally coming back to my senses, knowing quite well that Husna’s parents – being the typical Hausa parents who will strictly push their kids towards the Deen; the type of parents who will teach their kids that Islamic education and good morals are far more important than anything – would never acknowledge her ‘so-called boyfriend’ as their son-in-law.      

‘No! Wallahi, you’re so dumb. Can’t you understand that we are into a secret relationship?’ she almost barked. 

‘Whatever the case, you’ve to break up with that demon you call a prince. You deserve someone far better than him-someone that will accept all your flaws and appreciate everything about you, someone with the ilm to defend his religion, a man of Deen whom your kids will be so proud to call ‘papa.’ You deserve someone whose testimonials are inspiring, someone whose effect on you would extend beyond this Dunya, a man who will walk you to Jannah, a man you can hold on to, a man you can proudly call the source of your true happiness and external strength. Not someone that will encourage you to bleach your skin and change who you are, not someone that will persuade you to flaunt your beauty and mess up your goals.’ I stopped to breathe.

‘You don’t have to impress anybody, my dear, you don’t have to sacrifice your happiness to anyone-the happiness your parents put so much effort to build and protect…’ I paused again and stared blankly at the walk with misty eyes, not sparing Husna a glance.

‘Our parents had gone through a lot to make us who we are today. They have sacrificed their blood and sweat to give us happiness, yet we chose to, to…’ I paused as tears of pity flowed down my cheeks to seek solace on my lips—tears of pain, the pain of betraying their thoughts and trust.

I restricted my gaze from the plain wall and pasted it on Husna’s forlorn face. I was shocked when I saw tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

‘But it’s a free world, Husna, and as a friend, I’ve played my role here to guide you. So now it’s left for you to decide because hell is free, anyway,’ I said as I stood up lazily, wiped my tears and walked to the door. ‘I need to get my breakfast, Habibty; feel at home,’ I said, holding the doorknob. 

‘Innalillahi, I almost destroyed my life. What was I thinking, Astagfirullah’ I heard Husna mutters to herself from behind. 

I smiled, let out a sigh of relief and closed the door behind me before walking to the kitchen in high spirit.

© Zaynab Abdool (abdullateefzainab96@gmail.com)