Two months later, Hadiyat’s parents discover
that she is
pregnant and are devastated by the unfortunate
predicament of
an unwanted pregnancy that will jeopardize her
privileges of
getting married to Assam or any other man in
Niger. Every bride
must be a virgin otherwise she will bring public
shame and
discrimination against her parents and family.
This bad
development infuriates her father and in fury,
he nearly beats her
to a state of unconsciousness until her mother
and fellow Arab
beggars nearby intervene to save Hadiyat’s life
from the wrath
of her enraged father. Sule is unable to defend
Hadiyat and he
wisely keeps away for his own safety.
“Father, please have mercy!”
“Mercy? You don’t deserve mercy, but to be
stoned to death for
the abomination you have done and brought
shame to our
family and me. Allah! What will I tell Alhaji
Musa and his son
Assam?”
“The Satan has done his worst. It is not our
fault or Hadiyat’s.
We should have sent her home since last year,
but you were the
one delaying her. Now the worst has
happened,” her mother
laments bitterly.
“Is the delay the excuse for her indiscipline?
Women. You are all
dummies with your brains in your loins. Our
daughter has
disgraced us and you are blaming me!”
Hadiyat’s father
screams in fury.
He raises his whip as if to whip his wife.
“Go on! Beat me too. I will keep on saying the
truth. The sooner
we return home the better. We can do better
than begging
infidels for money. Is that not an abomination?
You grin and
smile to ask them for alms, but you curse and
sneer at them
behind their backs. Why not reject their alms
since they are
infidels? Such hypocrisy. I am fed up. If not for
Allah, I would
have left you and returned home without you.”
“Insolent woman! I will teach you how to keep
your insolent
tongue still!”
He tries to whip her, but his fellow Arabs hold
him back,
rebuking him for disgracing his family
shamelessly in public.
Hadiyat holds her mother as if her life depends
on her mother’s.
Her father retreats to their corner under the
flyover while the
younger children look on with mixed feelings of
fear and pity.
The shame of it all makes Hadiyat’s parents to
stop talking
about it openly. And without wasting anymore
time, they pack
their belongings and leave for their own
country. To save their
beloved daughter from further abominations
among the infidels.
Sule watches helplessly from a distance as
Hadiyat leaves with
her family. His buddies begin to sing songs on
how Sule has
lost his Arab “wife”. And Sule chases them all
over the bus stop
without much remorse for the departure of
Hadiyat.
In the harmattan of 2005. A beautiful fair lady
with long curly
hair and holding a young girl walking by her
side comes to the
motor park under the flyover opposite the
National Stadium in
Surulere, Lagos. She is well dressed in a
modern white skirt suit
and high heels. She has a small red handbag.
The petty traders
notice her as she walks up to the few Arab
beggars. She wants
to give them alms. She looks like a rich young
lady. Probably a
tourist. They regard her with anxious and
curious eyes. The
Arab beggars point to an old woman among the
petty traders
they call “Mama John.” And she turns to the
woman.
“Good evening ma,” she greets politely with
glints in her
beautiful hazel eyes.
The old woman looks up from her seat in
response. She thinks
the young white lady wants to buy from her.
She sells sweets of
several brands. But, there is something familiar
about this
young white lady holding a little white girl. They
look alike. Must
be her daughter. They have the same eyes.
“Yes, oyinbo? What to do you want to buy?
Peppermint or
chewing gum?”
“No, ma,” the white lady replies.
“Hen?”
If she does not want to buy anything, then what
does she want
from me?
“Mama, I am looking for Sule,”
“Sule? Which Sule? I am not Mama Sule. I am
Mama John.”
“Yes. But, They say you know Sule. The one
who was collecting
money from bus drivers and conductors at the
bus stop,” she
says pointing to the bus stop.
“Oh, Oh!” the old woman exclaims as she
remembers the Sule
the white lady seems to be asking for.
“Yes, Sule. Oga Sule. Tall and slender. Black
fine boy with gap in
his front teeth?” she says describing him.
“Yes. Yes. Sule. Tall young man,” the white lady
says.
“Ah. Sule don go school and Sule don become
Oga lawyer now.
No be conductor again. Sule, good boy is now a
big man lawyer
in Lawanson,” says the old woman.
Some of the other petty traders and some touts
gather on
hearing the name of Sule. Because, Sule has
become a
household name among them since he left to
go back to school
and has become a lawyer since passing out of
the Nigerian Law
School last year and most of them were at his
Call to Bar party
on Victoria Island. Then, out of deep curiosity,
the old woman
scrutinizes the white lady and it begins to dawn
on her that she
resembles the very pretty Arab girl that Sule
impregnated seven
years ago right here under the flyover before
her very eyes and
she was one of the people who intervened when
her infuriated
father “Baba Hadiyat” was punishing her.
“Hadiyat?” she calls her name.
“Yes, ma. Hadiyat. I am the one,” she replies.
The old woman looks into her hazel eyes and
touches her hands
and cheeks to be sure that she is not mistaken.
And on her
conviction of the reality that she is really
Hadiyat, she exclaims
in excitement.
“Hadiyat! The Arab girl! Sule’s girlfriend!”
Her announcement echoes and attracts the
attention of other
traders, touts, drivers and conductors and
many others. They all
surround the young white lady and her girl-child
whom the old
woman now recognizes as the result of
Hadiyat’s pregnancy for
Sule. She begins to thank the almighty God for
the providence of
the unwanted pregnancy that has brought such
a very beautiful
child into the world.
To Be Continued …






webvibez..co.ke/2017/05/daughter-of-beggar-love-story-part-5.html?m=1[url]Two months later, Hadiyat’s parents discover
that she is
pregnant and are devastated by the unfortunate
predicament of
an unwanted pregnancy that will jeopardize her
privileges of
getting married to Assam or any other man in
Niger. Every bride
must be a virgin otherwise she will bring public
shame and
discrimination against her parents and family.
This bad
development infuriates her father and in fury,
he nearly beats her
to a state of unconsciousness until her mother
and fellow Arab
beggars nearby intervene to save Hadiyat’s life
from the wrath
of her enraged father. Sule is unable to defend
Hadiyat and he
wisely keeps away for his own safety.
“Father, please have mercy!”
“Mercy? You don’t deserve mercy, but to be
stoned to death for
the abomination you have done and brought
shame to our
family and me. Allah! What will I tell Alhaji
Musa and his son
Assam?”
“The Satan has done his worst. It is not our
fault or Hadiyat’s.
We should have sent her home since last year,
but you were the
one delaying her. Now the worst has
happened,” her mother
laments bitterly.
“Is the delay the excuse for her indiscipline?
Women. You are all
dummies with your brains in your loins. Our
daughter has
disgraced us and you are blaming me!”
Hadiyat’s father
screams in fury.
He raises his whip as if to whip his wife.
“Go on! Beat me too. I will keep on saying the
truth. The sooner
we return home the better. We can do better
than begging
infidels for money. Is that not an abomination?
You grin and
smile to ask them for alms, but you curse and
sneer at them
behind their backs. Why not reject their alms
since they are
infidels? Such hypocrisy. I am fed up. If not for
Allah, I would
have left you and returned home without you.”
“Insolent woman! I will teach you how to keep
your insolent
tongue still!”
He tries to whip her, but his fellow Arabs hold
him back,
rebuking him for disgracing his family
shamelessly in public.
Hadiyat holds her mother as if her life depends
on her mother’s.
Her father retreats to their corner under the
flyover while the
younger children look on with mixed feelings of
fear and pity.
The shame of it all makes Hadiyat’s parents to
stop talking
about it openly. And without wasting anymore
time, they pack
their belongings and leave for their own
country. To save their
beloved daughter from further abominations
among the infidels.
Sule watches helplessly from a distance as
Hadiyat leaves with
her family. His buddies begin to sing songs on
how Sule has
lost his Arab “wife”. And Sule chases them all
over the bus stop
without much remorse for the departure of
Hadiyat.
In the harmattan of 2005. A beautiful fair lady
with long curly
hair and holding a young girl walking by her
side comes to the
motor park under the flyover opposite the
National Stadium in
Surulere, Lagos. She is well dressed in a
modern white skirt suit
and high heels. She has a small red handbag.
The petty traders
notice her as she walks up to the few Arab
beggars. She wants
to give them alms. She looks like a rich young
lady. Probably a
tourist. They regard her with anxious and
curious eyes. The
Arab beggars point to an old woman among the
petty traders
they call “Mama John.” And she turns to the
woman.
“Good evening ma,” she greets politely with
glints in her
beautiful hazel eyes.
The old woman looks up from her seat in
response. She thinks
the young white lady wants to buy from her.
She sells sweets of
several brands. But, there is something familiar
about this
young white lady holding a little white girl. They
look alike. Must
be her daughter. They have the same eyes.
“Yes, oyinbo? What to do you want to buy?
Peppermint or
chewing gum?”
“No, ma,” the white lady replies.
“Hen?”
If she does not want to buy anything, then what
does she want
from me?
“Mama, I am looking for Sule,”
“Sule? Which Sule? I am not Mama Sule. I am
Mama John.”
“Yes. But, They say you know Sule. The one
who was collecting
money from bus drivers and conductors at the
bus stop,” she
says pointing to the bus stop.
“Oh, Oh!” the old woman exclaims as she
remembers the Sule
the white lady seems to be asking for.
“Yes, Sule. Oga Sule. Tall and slender. Black
fine boy with gap in
his front teeth?” she says describing him.
“Yes. Yes. Sule. Tall young man,” the white lady
says.
“Ah. Sule don go school and Sule don become
Oga lawyer now.
No be conductor again. Sule, good boy is now a
big man lawyer
in Lawanson,” says the old woman.
Some of the other petty traders and some touts
gather on
hearing the name of Sule. Because, Sule has
become a
household name among them since he left to
go back to school
and has become a lawyer since passing out of
the Nigerian Law
School last year and most of them were at his
Call to Bar party
on Victoria Island. Then, out of deep curiosity,
the old woman
scrutinizes the white lady and it begins to dawn
on her that she
resembles the very pretty Arab girl that Sule
impregnated seven
years ago right here under the flyover before
her very eyes and
she was one of the people who intervened when
her infuriated
father “Baba Hadiyat” was punishing her.
“Hadiyat?” she calls her name.
“Yes, ma. Hadiyat. I am the one,” she replies.
The old woman looks into her hazel eyes and
touches her hands
and cheeks to be sure that she is not mistaken.
And on her
conviction of the reality that she is really
Hadiyat, she exclaims
in excitement.
“Hadiyat! The Arab girl! Sule’s girlfriend!”
Her announcement echoes and attracts the
attention of other
traders, touts, drivers and conductors and
many others. They all
surround the young white lady and her girl-child
whom the old
woman now recognizes as the result of
Hadiyat’s pregnancy for
Sule. She begins to thank the almighty God for
the providence of
the unwanted pregnancy that has brought such
a very beautiful
child into the world.
To Be Continued …






webvibez..co.ke/2017/05/daughter-of-beggar-love-story-part-5.html?m=1[/url]Two months later, Hadiyat’s parents discover
that she is
pregnant and are devastated by the unfortunate
predicament of
an unwanted pregnancy that will jeopardize her
privileges of
getting married to Assam or any other man in
Niger. Every bride
must be a virgin otherwise she will bring public
shame and
discrimination against her parents and family.
This bad
development infuriates her father and in fury,
he nearly beats her
to a state of unconsciousness until her mother
and fellow Arab
beggars nearby intervene to save Hadiyat’s life
from the wrath
of her enraged father. Sule is unable to defend
Hadiyat and he
wisely keeps away for his own safety.
“Father, please have mercy!”
“Mercy? You don’t deserve mercy, but to be
stoned to death for
the abomination you have done and brought
shame to our
family and me. Allah! What will I tell Alhaji
Musa and his son
Assam?”
“The Satan has done his worst. It is not our
fault or Hadiyat’s.
We should have sent her home since last year,
but you were the
one delaying her. Now the worst has
happened,” her mother
laments bitterly.
“Is the delay the excuse for her indiscipline?
Women. You are all
dummies with your brains in your loins. Our
daughter has
disgraced us and you are blaming me!”
Hadiyat’s father
screams in fury.
He raises his whip as if to whip his wife.
“Go on! Beat me too. I will keep on saying the
truth. The sooner
we return home the better. We can do better
than begging
infidels for money. Is that not an abomination?
You grin and
smile to ask them for alms, but you curse and
sneer at them
behind their backs. Why not reject their alms
since they are
infidels? Such hypocrisy. I am fed up. If not for
Allah, I would
have left you and returned home without you.”
“Insolent woman! I will teach you how to keep
your insolent
tongue still!”
He tries to whip her, but his fellow Arabs hold
him back,
rebuking him for disgracing his family
shamelessly in public.
Hadiyat holds her mother as if her life depends
on her mother’s.
Her father retreats to their corner under the
flyover while the
younger children look on with mixed feelings of
fear and pity.
The shame of it all makes Hadiyat’s parents to
stop talking
about it openly. And without wasting anymore
time, they pack
their belongings and leave for their own
country. To save their
beloved daughter from further abominations
among the infidels.
Sule watches helplessly from a distance as
Hadiyat leaves with
her family. His buddies begin to sing songs on
how Sule has
lost his Arab “wife”. And Sule chases them all
over the bus stop
without much remorse for the departure of
Hadiyat.
In the harmattan of 2005. A beautiful fair lady
with long curly
hair and holding a young girl walking by her
side comes to the
motor park under the flyover opposite the
National Stadium in
Surulere, Lagos. She is well dressed in a
modern white skirt suit
and high heels. She has a small red handbag.
The petty traders
notice her as she walks up to the few Arab
beggars. She wants
to give them alms. She looks like a rich young
lady. Probably a
tourist. They regard her with anxious and
curious eyes. The
Arab beggars point to an old woman among the
petty traders
they call “Mama John.” And she turns to the
woman.
“Good evening ma,” she greets politely with
glints in her
beautiful hazel eyes.
The old woman looks up from her seat in
response. She thinks
the young white lady wants to buy from her.
She sells sweets of
several brands. But, there is something familiar
about this
young white lady holding a little white girl. They
look alike. Must
be her daughter. They have the same eyes.
“Yes, oyinbo? What to do you want to buy?
Peppermint or
chewing gum?”
“No, ma,” the white lady replies.
“Hen?”
If she does not want to buy anything, then what
does she want
from me?
“Mama, I am looking for Sule,”
“Sule? Which Sule? I am not Mama Sule. I am
Mama John.”
“Yes. But, They say you know Sule. The one
who was collecting
money from bus drivers and conductors at the
bus stop,” she
says pointing to the bus stop.
“Oh, Oh!” the old woman exclaims as she
remembers the Sule
the white lady seems to be asking for.
“Yes, Sule. Oga Sule. Tall and slender. Black
fine boy with gap in
his front teeth?” she says describing him.
“Yes. Yes. Sule. Tall young man,” the white lady
says.
“Ah. Sule don go school and Sule don become
Oga lawyer now.
No be conductor again. Sule, good boy is now a
big man lawyer
in Lawanson,” says the old woman.
Some of the other petty traders and some touts
gather on
hearing the name of Sule. Because, Sule has
become a
household name among them since he left to
go back to school
and has become a lawyer since passing out of
the Nigerian Law
School last year and most of them were at his
Call to Bar party
on Victoria Island. Then, out of deep curiosity,
the old woman
scrutinizes the white lady and it begins to dawn
on her that she
resembles the very pretty Arab girl that Sule
impregnated seven
years ago right here under the flyover before
her very eyes and
she was one of the people who intervened when
her infuriated
father “Baba Hadiyat” was punishing her.
“Hadiyat?” she calls her name.
“Yes, ma. Hadiyat. I am the one,” she replies.
The old woman looks into her hazel eyes and
touches her hands
and cheeks to be sure that she is not mistaken.
And on her
conviction of the reality that she is really
Hadiyat, she exclaims
in excitement.
“Hadiyat! The Arab girl! Sule’s girlfriend!”
Her announcement echoes and attracts the
attention of other
traders, touts, drivers and conductors and
many others. They all
surround the young white lady and her girl-child
whom the old
woman now recognizes as the result of
Hadiyat’s pregnancy for
Sule. She begins to thank the almighty God for
the providence of
the unwanted pregnancy that has brought such
a very beautiful
child into the world.
To Be Continued …






www.webvibez..co.ke/2017/05/daughter-of-beggar-love-story-part-5.html?m=1