Baki‘n’da Allah

Once a household name in Kono where he grew up, Shettima or "Baki'n' da Allah," as he was popularly known was unarguably the best Kalangu musician in that part. The name Baki'n da Allah came from his constant use of the proverb "Baki'n' da Allah yanufa da chara, ko ana ha mata, ha maza, sai yayi Kara", relating to destiny as crafted by Allah for every man. The proverb itself suggested that Allah would without fail bring to pass whatever He has willed for any man regardless of the circumstances. For these reasons, Shettima was generally laidback and given to much wine and merry making.

Though seldom found drunk, Shettima would sniff the length and breadth of Kafanchan in search of wedding ceremonies and the likes, where he would display his talent and craftsmanship in the Kalangu music in return for cash and other gift items and then of course plenty of liquor. He was never in want of women and neither gave much thought about the future.

While his contemporaries acquired more lands, Baki'n' da Allah acquired more women, and soon reached the mandatory limit of four allowed by Islam. As time went by, things grew tougher with children swarming his home and scrambling for space and available food. Things became even more challenging and sometimes got out of hand forcing Shettima into one menial job or the other in attempt to secure farmland for his wives in order to help them cater for their children. Not long afterwards, his home, once a beehive of merry making and feasting became infested with strife, rivalry and quarrels.

Things had become very difficult in the country at large and in his home where the women competed for favour and attention through child bearing, Baki'n' da Allah found himself suffocating in the chaotic demand for the bare necessities of life. During those times, the cheers of Baki'n' da Allah often came as jeers and insults, and for him, a stark contrast of what life used to be. Once in a while though, there where friends who genuinely meant well when they chorused the famous phrase and this served as a source of encouragement to Shettima as he strove to keep his family together.

However, one morning, Baki'n' da Allah gathered four of his sons and secretly dispatched them to some obscure makaranta allo, ignoring the hushed disapproval of his wives. Amidst torrents of questions by friends and neighbors, Shettima lived in denial while his wives provided ready but deceitful explanations as to the whereabouts of their sons. Within himself though, Shettima choked with the nagging fear of what might become of his sons.

Mallam Ado was considered a no nonsense Imam because of his firm belief in strict adherence to rules and timetable. He seldom smiled and had zero tolerance for tantrums and sluggishness. Most of the pupils sent to him were those perceived as obstinate and rebellious at home and community, and his success with such pupil fuelled his popularity and swelled his farm with youthful labourers.

On arrival, Shettima or Baki'n' da Allah as he was called, was already impressed with the way the pupils responded to their lessons. He got so carried away that he did not notice the overcrowded hall, the haggard looks of the pupils, nor did he take into consideration the peculiarities of his sons.

After paying the mandatory two thousand naira each for registration, he handed the sum of twelve thousand naira to the somewhat bewildered Mallam Ado as pocket money for the boys. Without any words of comfort, Shettima nudged the boys forward muttering a goodbye as he turned sharply making his exit as quickly as possible. As Shettima left the compound, Mallam Ado rose from his stool and walked the short distance to see him disappear into the main street before returning to his seat where he counted the money at least three times over. He had never received such a large amount from a parent before. As the children watched him grinning from ear to ear, some of them for the very first time in their long stay, realized how very important money is to life and how to have much of it could affect the Mallam even though he preached against materialism every now and then. As he raised his head and shouted them back to their recitals, Mallam Ado wondered in his mind why a parent so blessed would bring four sons to a makarantan allo so remote as his. "It must be his love for Islam" he thought.

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In the village of Kono in Kaduna state where they grew up, Sani was the friend that stood out among the rest. He and Shettima were inseparable. They had both dropped out of school and in those childhood days, nights were spent in whoever's home the two were overpowered by sleep. During the day, they played, ate, prayed, fought and sang together. It was even touted that both had been brothers in their previous life. It therefore came as a rude shock to Shettima one afternoon when Sani broke the news that he had taken up a job as a driver and would no longer be available for their kalangu outings.

For several days, Shettima hung around his bosom friend and begged him to change his mind. Unknown to Shettima, Sani had only told him half of the story. Actually, Sani had been employed by one of the officials of the railway company and in the deal brokered by Sani's father, the second phase was to get Sani out of the village to a place where he could focus on and get some good education in order to have a functional life. Shettima was therefore heartbroken when a month later, Sani told him that his employer had been transferred to Makurdi and that he would be leaving too.

Shettima was inconsolable with grief, both were crying as they hugged each other goodbye, and for the first time ever Baki'n' da Allah's kalangu music took a serious dip with many thinking he would be forced to return to school and be serious, but alas.

Few weeks later, Shettima had bounced back with a new song and once again became the toast of weddings and other ceremonies. Each time he switched to the song, the crowd went wild and the chant of Baki'n' de Allah filled the air.

Four years had passed since Sani last visited and this time was quite unlike others. Apart from not being notified of the visit in advance, he only got to know of Sani's arrival from neighbors and friends three days after. Shettima wondered why his bosom friend would keep him in the dark about his visit. Has news of his decline in fame and fortune reached his friend or was there any wrong he had done to warrant such treatment?

Another day passed and on the fifth day, Shettima summoned courage and visited Sani's house. Upon his arrival, Shettima was greeted by the greatest surprise of his life. The magnitude of renovation that was going on in the compound left him awestruck. Besides, Sani had added so much weight that Shettima had walked past without recognizing him as he was facing one of the buildings under renovation.

"Baki!" Sani called out as Shettima strolled past him gaping at one of the newly painted buildings. Turning around to face his long-time friend, Baki'n' da Allah could not hide his awe as his mouth remained wide open with his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

"You will soon swallow me" Sani added in a voice that exuded comfort and confidence.

"That would be impossible with this your latest size" advancing with an outstretched hand. "Kai! Kai! Kai! Shettima exclaimed as the two locked fingers in a hand shake.

"Are you responsible for these changes?"

"To-o! Alhamdullah" replied Sani humbly still holding on to Shettima's hand. "How is your family?" Sani asked.

"We are fine Ayi" Shettime responded as the two walked hand in hand in to the living room where he met with even greater surprises. The interior of the living room had been completely changed and the furnishing was exquisite. Baki'n da Allah crouched into the edge of one of the chairs subdued by his failures and the compelling ambience of success and achievements of his very own contemporary, one he had hitherto thought to be several steps behind him in wits and creativity and his heart began to thump against his chest like a mason's hammer against a rejected wall. Suddenly Baki realized the source of such transformation and remembered his four sons dispatched to some Makaranta Allo instead of regular schools, and sprang to his feet. By the time Sani emerged from his bedroom with the gifts meant for his childhood friend, Baki'n' da Allah was beyond the gates racing like a gazelle towards his home, without apologies to the baffled onlookers.

Life at Mallam Ado's Makaranta Allo was not the kind they were used to. For several weeks, the sons of once famous Baki'n' da Allah struggled to cope with the claustrophobia, the rigorous tasks at the farm and the highly regimented life Mallam Ado had firmly established and religiously followed. But what irked the most was the challenge of going out to beg.

At Makaranta Allo, the time table remained the same week in – week out. The pupils woke up every morning at 4:am for prayers and prayed five times a day. They went to farm Mondays to Thursdays and mosque on Fridays for Jumat service. Saturdays and Sundays were predominantly for begging. None of these seemed interesting to Abdul, Yero, Yusuf and Muhammed. All the four had spent some years in regular government schools and having to adapt to Islamiyya as practiced at Makaranta Allo was a huge task. They missed their friends at school, regular meals, football and television. Worse hit were Yusuf and Muhammed whose favourite programme was Magana'n' ja richi. Before long both had taken ill with nostalgia and stresse induced malaria. Already tired of their whining and antiques, and also well known for his want of patience, Mallam Ado had taken note of the two and prayed for Allah to intervene in any way possible. By the time Alhaji Sanusi, another Imam from the far north, showed up, he was more than ready to give them away.

Shettima got home that afternoon from his visit to Sani vowing to withdraw his sons from the Makaranta Allo. He had seen with his own eyes the benefits of western education and would not let anyone or anything deny him of a blissful old age which he was certain his children would give him if properly educated.

He called his wives together and expressed his regrets pledging to bring their sons back, off course with their support. He therefore asked them to support his expedition financially with their savings.

There was silence in the house when Shettima finished his speech. His wives were happy he had come to such a decision but as for the financial support, Shettima may have expected too much or merely miss-timed his plans.

His first wife rose up to speak for the rest.

"It is difficult to support this trip maigida, she stated. In case you have forgotten, we are deep into the planting season and all the money we had were spent on seedlings. What we have left can barely support our feeding for a whole week"

Crest fallen and embarrassed, Shettima thanked his wives and rose from their midst determined to find a way out.

Early the next morning, he rose and went through the village in search of any kind of task that would fetch some money. He didn't have to search for long. It was planting season and jobs were available for any who was ready to work.

Three weeks had passed since he had that humbling talk with his wives and for three weeks he had toiled in at least three different farms to raise the money he needed for the trip. Shettima arrived at the Makarantan Allo and what confronted him was both shocking and frightening. The first four pupils he met were dressed in his sons' clothings. He walked past them turning severally to convince himself they were not, but the feeling would not just go away. More frightening was that the clothes were already worn out and torn in several places. A little further ahead, he met two of his sons deeply engrossed in some task. They did not rush to meet him as they would just six months earlier when they were still at home. They simply starred as though something sinister was going on in their minds. Besides, they were looking so malnourished and over worked that Shettima almost shed tears.

"I want my children back" he simply said to Mallam Ado with no pleasantries whatsoever.

"Sannu Mallam Shettima" said Ado as he rose from his stool

"Sannu nka" responded Shettima "Please where are the other two? He asked.

"By the grace of Allah, they are doing well in their new school" Mallam Ado replied

"New school?" queried Shettima "Where?"

"Mallam Sanusi is a very good instructor…" began Mallam Ado "…Probably better than I…"

"Where?" Shettima interrupted.

"Mallam Fatori" replied Ado

"Mallam Fatori" Shettima echoed "La ila a ilalla!" he exclaimed. He had heard of that town before, it lay in the Chad basin, north of Maidugari. Even if he were to go there, it would cost a fortune, that kind of money was not lying anywhere for him to just pick up. He felt like grabbing Mallam Ado by the throat and choking him to death, but that would not solve his problem. Finally he turned to his children and called to them in a shaky voice.

"Go and get your things, we are leaving"

"There is nothing" replied Abdul "Here we share everything, nobody owns anything"

"Let's go home then" said Shettima with tears gathering in his eyes.

Perhaps it was the fear of being separated from each other or the prowess of Mallam Sanusi at bringing out the best in his pupils that led to their latest reaction. But Yusuf and Muhammed quickly snapped out of their melancholy and redundancy and began to show sparks of what they were made of.

Yusuf was particularly a delight to Mallam Sanusi. At thirteen the boy was at least a step ahead of his peers in reasoning and response to situations. Back at home, he was the inventor, ring leader and sponsor of most of the games and activities his peers were involved in, whether good or bad. In the community, people often praised his ingenuity and resourcefulness with the hope that all will be channelled towards positive goals. Even his father used to brag that his son had taken after his creativity in areas other than music.

At Mallam Sanusi's Makarantan Allo, Yusuf rose from his initial days of shock and depression and showed class in memorising and recitation of the holy Quran. His adaptability was incredible and his pursuit of any given instruction superb. It was not long before Mallam Sanusi began to hand him special roles hitherto meant for his more experienced pupils, those who had come to the Makaranta Allo as children.

However, unlike his father, he had an extremely brave and domineering spirit which was only surpassed by his innate ability to calmly explain his goals and actions and thus convince others to accept his position. These altogether made him the most attractive pupil in the Makaranta Allo and caused the rest of the pupil to look up to him for leadership.

One very windy afternoon, as the pupils went from street to street begging for alms, Yusuf's group saw a crowd gathered at a distance and immediately began to race towards what turned out to be the administrative headquarters of the local government in expectation of getting alms. Contrary to their expectations, it was a gathering of some angry staff of the local government, protesting the non-payment of their salaries for over four months. As the shout of "thieves", "bastards", "adulterer" and other forms of abuse rented the air, some officials of the local government emerged from one of the buildings and tried to calm the angry men and women who constantly booed them calling for the chairman himself to come out and address the crowd. A short while later, a detachment of policemen arrived in a Land Rover and forcefully gained entry into the building firing sporadically into the air. Minutes later, they emerged with the local government chairman and in the same manner, with which they entered the building, forced their way out and into the waiting vehicle whisking the chairman away to safety amidst jeers from the crowd.

Upon his return to the Makarantan Allo that afternoon, Yusuf asked Mallam Sanusi what the police might do to the Local Government Chairman.

"Nothing" he replied, they merely escorted him to safety" he added.

Yusuf was bewildered and disappointed. Why would a man who had stolen from so many people be protected by the police? Maybe Mallam Sanusi did not tell him the truth or probably he did not know any better. However, some days later, Yusuf was shocked to his bones when shortly after Jumat prayers, he saw beggars falling over themselves as they scrambled to receive alms from the same Local Government Chairman. He was so angry as people just walked passed the chairman's convoy with some of them hailing him and showering praises on him as if the events of the past few days had been totally obliterated from their minds. Yusuf went home that evening and did not confide in Mallam Sanusi but bottled up his anger for several days, becoming less than his usual self.

With the passing of the week, Yusuf regained his usual spark, much to the relief of his brother and Mallam Sanusi who had feared the boy was going to relapse into his initial mood when he first arrived at the Makarantan Allo. With such mood, his progress and productivity had dropped sharply while his returns from begging had also taken an unusual dip.

Mallam Sanusi praised Allah for his resurgence and placed him at the head of the whole pack as they headed for the farm that morning.

The sun was setting as the pupils rounded up their task at the farm. Yusuf rallied his colleagues as they ended their prayers and headed for the Allo not more than a kilometre away. As they made their journey intermittently approaching worthwhile individuals for alms, Yusuf and his colleagues came to a tumultuous gathering as a man was being dragged towards a stump rising some three feet from the ground. Arriving just in time to see his latest hero, Mallam Sanusi seated among the clerics in the gathering, Yusuf watched in horror as the axe rose and landed on the screaming young man's wrist as both the young and the old shouted

"Allah u akbar!"

He was particularly saddened when he heard the man was punished for stealing a cow.

Back at the Allo, Yusuf waited patiently for such a time that he could approach Mallam Sanusi and as soon as the chance presented itself, he put forward his questions.

"Mallam" he voiced pointedly "Why did the man who stole a cow have to lose his hand while the chairman who stole so much money from so many people was allowed to go free?"

Mallam Sanusi adjusted his position slightly on the stool and cleared his throat in an attempt to buy some time while thinking out an answer to give his pupils as they were all ears.

"Allah in his infinite wisdom has created all men equal and does not discriminate in his judgement… began Mallam Sanusi…The man who had his hand cut off, stole and received the just punishment for his sin. Also the man who used his office to steal ought to receive and will receive a just punishment but the office which he occupies and abused is not an Islamic office and has its own rules. He will therefore be judged in accordance with those rules. He stated the matter factly and continued. "However, Allah will visit his own punishment at the proper time. But the man whose hand has been cut will no longer face Allah's judgement which is more intense. So chose for yourselves then, which judgement you prefer to face."

Yusuf strained his thoughts to make absolute sense of the verdict but his bias would not let him. He asked himself, why the cow thief was not left to the judgement of Allah but was instead subjected to the judgement of men, and wished he had the powers to correct what he perceived as double standards. All day long the events replayed itself in his mind as he tried to work out what he would have considered a better solution.

Abdul and Yero settled quickly to their former lifestyle. In some aspects, it was as though they never left. But for Shettima, it was the birth of another kind of challenge. He had taken each of the four sons he sent to Makarantan Allo from his four wives and returning only two meant he had to live with the task of making sure the other two are equally returned to their mothers. Each time he saw the two women together his thoughts raced up and down, and when they approached him, he struggled to find any explanation for the delay of their children's return.

Only two weeks had passed since Yusuf witnessed the amputation of the cow thief but the court where it happened had become a major attraction to him. He would always steal out some moments to go witness the proceedings and draw lessons from them. At the Allo, Mallam Sanusi had taken note of his interest and often prepared to provide answers to his numerous queries. On one occasion, he had asked him if he wanted to be a judge, a question that caught Yusuf off guard.

"I don't know yet" he stammered.

On the streets of Mallam Fatori, there were Muslim clerics who preached from the Quran at different parts of the town, under trees or any shade that could hide them from the scorching sun. There was this particular one whom Yusuf had come to like because of the content and consistency of his messages.

It all started one day as Yusuf and his crew were returning from the farm. Yusuf had heard the cleric talking about injustice and double standards, and was particularly delighted when the cleric had mentioned the case of Gumzu, a pupil of a secondary school, who was accused of fornication.

Gumzu had gotten pregnant and fingered a wealthy farmer as being responsible. Adamu, the farmer in question had denied the charge and, in trying to shake of the charge of adultery levelled against him, had hired some young men who were pupils in the school to testify that Gumzu was a loos girl. They even fished out Gumzu's lover in school and pinned the pregnancy on him. In the end, Gumzu and Jamal got the hundred lashes for fornication while Mallam Adamu went scot free.

Since then Yusuf paid the cleric regular visits and they drew closer as he often fed him with some essential nourishments that were hardly ever found in the meals offered at the Makarantan Allo.

Shettima had been preparing himself for this trip for months. He had toiled in several farms for months and denied himself of most things he regularly could provide for himself in order to save the money he now presented before his wives.

"I really have sacrificed a lot to save this money you see lying here and I hope that, unlike that first time that we discussed this matter, you will see the need to support me so that we can bring back our sons. I remember it was planting season then but now you have not only harvested your crops, you have sold out a lot of the harvest so I am asking you to contribute what you can so that I can make the trip to Mallam Fatori to bring back Yusuf and Muhhamed." He finished looking from one face to the other.

By morning the next day, Shettima took a motorcycle from Kono to Kafanchan having received the contribution from his wives. Throughout the walk from his house to the junction where the motorcycles usually gathered waiting for passengers, there was not a single shout of "Baki'n'da Allah", that popular name he thought he had woven into history throughout his days as a Kalangu maestro. "How transient life can be" he thought as he sat behind the motorcyclist. Not even the motorcyclist took any special notice of him.

For three days, Mallam Sanusi and his pupils had combed the village in search of Yusuf and Yinusa without success. The fact that both of them went missing together made it particularly worrisome to Mallam Sanusi.

At the Allo, the two, Yusuf and Yinusa, hardly agreed on anything. Before Yusuf arrived, Yinusa was always asked to lead in any task because he was the most intelligent and showed great character and strength, but when Yusuf arrived and excelled in recitals and in the handling of responsibilities over and above Yinusa, Mallam Sanusi could not help but hand the mantle of leadership to him. More so because he was kind and gentle and the rest of the pupils naturally gravitated towards him as against Yinusa who seemed rather bossy.

Shettima arrived the Makarantan Allo in Mallam Fatori in high spirits the next morning hoping to find his sons in good health and to return home with them but alas. For more than fifteen minutes, Mallam Sanusi could not come up with the courage to tell Shettima the whereabouts of his son Yusuf. If not for the written note Shettima brought from Mallam Ado and the fact that Mohammed was alive and well, and had rushed into his father's arms as soon as he came throught the entrance to the fence, he would have denied ever meeting the two not to mention having them in his custody. For the first time Mohammed noticed a weakness in his teacher and mentor.

"Where is your brother?" Shettima roared at his son.

"He is missing Baba" came the answer from Mohammed

He has been missing for four days now" he added unable to look into his father's eyes

"La illa a ilalla!" Shettima exclaimed "Four days and you don't know where your brother is? Where have you searched?"

"Everywhere Baba, everywhere! Schools, mosques and…" Mohammed stopped to think

"Mosques and where Mohammed? Shettima asked softly realising his son was up to something.

"There is this Mallam swho's preaching he loves and used to go and visit"

"Take us there right away" Shettima ordered.

Outside the compound, Shettima flagged down a bike which he and his son mounted. He scarcely took notice of Mallam Sanusi who took his own bike and followed behind. On getting to the spot the Mallam was said to have been absent for four days prompting another round of despair. They asked the traders who sold kolanuts around the area, and they were directed to a certain address where they went and were told the cleric had left town for an unknown destination.

Shettima looked up, shed some tears then he and his son Mohammed mounted the motorcycle and headed to the motor park where they boarded a vehicle back to Kafanchan.

Perhaps it was the trip or all that he was facing that led to the crisis. But the next morning, Shettima woke up shivering with cold and unable to lift any of his limbs, the pounding by the woman out-side seemed to be taking place in his head with the pain spreading to other parts of his body, it was as if he had been beaten by a hundred men. He opened his mouth to call any of wives but his voice could hardly go beyond the door. "Bisimilah" he whispered in apparent surrender.

Mohammed had been sitting in the adjoining room since we finished his prayers that morning he had planned to thank his father specially not only for spending so much money to embark on such a long trip to come rescue him and his brother but more impatiently for rescind that decision to pull them out of regular schools and sending to Makaranta Allo instead. However, when the clock struck eight that morning and his father was still in bed, he had begun to feel a little uneasy. Thirty minutes later, Mohammed approach the door and knock gently, failing to draw any response, knew all was not well, so he pushed the door. Inside the room Mohammed noticed his father lying on his belly with his eyes closed as his face was turned in the direction of the door. He also noticed his body rising and dropping from breathing and he heaved a sigh of relief. But as he took a step backwards to leave, Shettima opened his eyes and beckoned on his son to come closer. It was when opened his mouth to speak and the words did not form that Mohammed rushed to the window, patted the curtains and called out to his brothers who came running as he shouted "Baba is not talking", Baba is not talking.

Turai was first of the wives to enter the room after the boys and her eyes quickly fell on the trey of food she had brought the night before. She had barely touched it when she screamed "This man has not eaten his food; he probably did not eat the whole of yesterday.

With this she dashed out and soon returned with a bottle of nono she had left outside in a bucket early that morning so they will be cold when she takes them to the market for sale later in the day. By the time she entered the room again, Shettima was in a sitting position, propped up by his sons with one of them standing behind and supporting him as he leaned on the boys legs. They gently poured the milk down his throat making sure he did not choke in the process.

Shettima could feel some strength returning into his body after every gulp, he soon raised his palm to show that he needed a break and took over proceedings himself. When Turai returned with breakfast, Shettima's eyes had brightened with life. The man looked up at his wives and children and tears gathered in his eyes. "Thank you" he said gently. "Kai! I almost died from stress".

Yusuf finds himself in a forest with a warthog on his heels. He runs as fast as he can through the shrubs and thickets, trying to get away from the beast and suddenly finds himself in an open field with a village nearby. He musters all his strength to race across the field and into the safety of the village but he is caught in a trap buried in the ground. As the warthog draws near, Yusuf screams for help and wakes up sweating profusely. He finds himself lying on the floor in a dark room, with his head pounding with a severe headache. After a few minutes in the dark, he realise he is not alone. All around him, there are others still unconscious or fast asleep. Unable to cope with the pain in his head, he lays back on the floor and drifts back into a deep sleep.

The effect of the drugs had taken a huge toll on some of the captives but before dawn the next day most of them had recovered well enough to hear the whistling that engulfed the camp that morning. Minutes after, flashes of torchlights pierced their sleepy eyes followed by shouts of "jump up" and "get up" coming from some fierce looking bandits. Before long, they were all in a single file marching down a footpath in the forest. With the sun yet to rise, the band got to a stream and the captives were asked to take off their clothes for their first bath after two days.

Yusuf jumped into the water, allowing the momentary relief to sink in. He was still savouring the effect of the water when he heard the shouts: "Hey! Stop there, stop there" and then the gun shots. In a twinkling of an eye, his friend Yinusa lay dead a few feet from where he stood transfixed in the stream. He had tried to escape into the bush exploiting the commotion around the stream but he had grossly underestimated the foe.

With her co-wives children all back at home and in school Turai's anguish soard. That morning Turai sat on the kitchen stool starring into the fire on which the porridge was boiling as if her son's image was appearing in the flames. With tears dropping from her cheeks, she tried to imagine what he would look like on what ought to be his sixteenth birthday. Three years had passed since he went missing but she had not stopped hoping. As she continued to stare, Shettima emerged from the house and noticed the stool tilting forward as Turai seemed to be going into a trance. Quickly he grabbed her dress from behind preventing her from falling over.

"Why my wife? You want to commit suicide? If you kill yourself who will take care of the rest of your children? You need to believe Allah that Yusuf will return. The police are doing everything to find the boy" and insha Allah he will return hale and hearty. Besides, your daughter's wedding is in three weeks and you are going to gain another son and many grandsons. This should make you happy or at least console you, but no, you choose to continue mourning a son who in sha Allah is alive somewhere.

Since the incidence occurred, Shettima had made it a priority to keep an eye on his second wife who had not been able to overcome the pain of losing his first born son. Whenever he had to leave home, he would assign someone else to that role and severally Turai had been prevented from causing herself bodily harm. However on the evening of that same day as the family sat down to have dinner, it was Muhammed that came running and shouting:

"Baba! Baba!" before collapsing to the ground out of exhaustion a few feet from Shettima who had risen from his stool to grab him.

"Water! Bring water" Shettima shouted to everybody and nobody in particular.

"Yusuf! Yusuf!" Muhammed whispered before drinking. Turai was already on the ground wailing as Muhammed drank in gulps. He had been running a long distance from where he had gone to play snooker and watch football. It was as the stewardess tuned one of the television sets to a news channel that he saw the clips.

"The army have captured Yusuf" Muhammed blotted, causing a scream among the women

"He is a terrorist Baba. I saw him, I saw him as they paraded some terrorists"

Shettima alighted from the bus at the entrance of 1 Mechanized Division of the Nigerian Army in Kaduna and began to think. "My son went missing in Mallam Fatori in Borno State. How did he find his way to Kaduna to commit this act of terrorism that they claim? What exactly did he do at such a tender age of sixteen?

"Yes! Where exactly are you going?" a voice interrupted his thoughts

"Public relations Sir" he answered

"Come and write your name here" the soldier ordered As he filled the register, Shettima got to the point where he should write the purpose for his visit and hesitated.

"ka rubuata" one of the soldiers ordered in Hausa meaning "Write!" Shettima decided to explain. Immediately Shettima told them that he was told his missing son was paraded among terrorist the night before, a soldier stepped up with a rifle and Shettima was taken to another room where he was interrogated for over an hour.

Until that day, all of Yusuf's effort to convince the soldiers that he was kidnapped and forced to fight had proved abortive. Not even the mentioning that his companion Yinusa was killed right before his eyes made any difference. As the shout of Yusuf Danladi Shettima hit his cell, Yusuf felt the need to use the toilet immediately. The fear of being let out and never to return made him tremble as he rose from his sitting position. Throughout the walk through different corridors, Yusuf's mind wondered from his childhood days to the present, what did he do wrong to end up this way? He questioned. He remembered his mother, siblings and the friends he had made and lost along the way. Finally he remembered Yinusa whom he led to an untimely death and tears ran down his cheeks. They never agreed on anything before that day but when he told him about the lofty messages of Mallam Ibrahim and the care he gave, Yinusa had followed him just to confirm and learn something different.

He was still in his thoughts when they entered the room and when Shettima turned, Yusuf fell at his feet shouting

"Baba, Baba please don't let them kill me. I am not a terrorist, I was kidnapped and they even killed my friend Yinusa before my eyes. I don't want to die Baba, I don't want to die"

"Calm down my son, calm down" said the Lieutenant

"Please Sir, please Sir' Yusuf pleaded.

"You will not die" the officer assured "You will not die. Is this not your father?"

"How old did you say he was when he went missing?"

"Thirteen years Sir" Shettima responded

"You see" the officer continued "When the government says you should make extra effort in keeping your children safe, you think they are joking. This boy was best in class, hardworking and obedient and you still took him to one Mallam" Everything in this life has it's time and place.

"I have learnt my lesson Sir" Shettima blotted, fighting his tears.

"Sit down Yusuf" said the officer, turning to the boy "We will do some paper work and then we will take you to see the commandant. By God's grace you will go home with your father".

On hearing this, Shettima broke into tears and fell face down before the officer.

"You don't know what I have been through. His mother tried to kill herself"

"Jesus!" exclaimed one of the soldiers.

"Yes, continued Shettima, I had to be on a constant lookout to make sure we did not lose her".

The paper work and the screening exercise to free Yusuf took a whole week and each day Shettima got home without her son felt like an eternity of prison sentence to his mother Turai. However today was different, her son had been cleared and all that was left was for her husband to return with her first born son.

Shettima's compound themed with visitors and the smell of incense mingled with the aroma of various dishes in preparation filled the air with an unusual scent. Turai strolled about excitedly welcoming guests as they made their way into the compound. Neighbours, friends and family had supported Shettima with a ram, food stuff and even money to make the occasion a grand and memorable one.

The motorcade carrying Yusuf and his father drove into the compound and the women rented the air with hooting of various kinds. As they came to a stop, the men all went on their knees to perform the Sujud immediately they alighted from the vehicle. Turai and her co-wives were not left out. As soon as they rose, a ram was slaughtered and an imam began a prayer session.

The merry making continued till evening and as night fell, Shettima felt the urge to play the goge for his son. Aisha had sat by her father watching as he tapped his feet to the music. As soon as he rose from his chair, she rose and followed him suspecting the imminent. Shettima entered his the room and opened the chest he had kept the instrument after vowing he would only play it for the last time on Aisha's wedding and stood in shock at the empty space.

"Yes Baba I took it, said Aisha on entering the room almost immediately. I knew you would want to play the goge to express your happiness for his return but Baba it's not right. You vowed never to play this instrument again as a sign of your repentance except on my wedding and you must keep your vow. It is not good to make a vow to Allah and then look for reasons to break them. Please Baba".

"You don't understand my daughter, I am not only doing this for your brother but for my wife, your mother. She was dead but now she is alive again."

"Never the less Baba, Aisha responded. A vow is a vow and we must keep our vows. Besides, you can still celebrate my mother at my wedding".

"If you say so Shettima replied as they both made their way out. "Where did you hide it? He turned to ask as they emerged from the bedroom.

"I will tell you on my wedding day" Aisha replied smiling.

Shettima had just emerged from the room when his would be in-laws rose to leave. As they walked towards the entrance to the compound, Alhaji Nura pulled Shettima aside and began to speak;

"I hope you did not go into too much borrowing to host this large crowd?"

"No my in- law Shettima replied. I got a lot of support from my brothers"

"Never the less said Alhaji Nura, let me share in the burden of that which you have spent". Having said this, he handed Shettima a folded cheque before dashing off in his chauffer driven car. Shettime held on to the cheque, waving until the car turned a corner and disappeared. With Alhaji Nura gone, he unfolded the cheque and almost fainted with happiness at the huge sum he had received.

The last time Shettima counted a hundred thousand naira of his own was at least five years ago, now he had five hundred thousand. Allah must have rewarded me for my repentance he thought. I will never again return to my old wayward life he vowed again for the umpteenth time. He would no longer wallow in the frivolous carefree way of life he had miss construed from that proverb that also became his nickname.

The next morning, Yusuf rose up very early hoping to be the one to lead the prayers in gratitude to Allah for his safe return. However, as he approached the mosque he was stunned as his father's voice rose out loud as he called for the morning prayers.

"When did he begin to lead prayers" he asked his brother Muhammed after the prayers.

"Ah! He exclaimed, you have not seen anything yet, Muhammed continued. Didn't you notice anything yesterday?

"I did not see any alcoholic drinks throughout the ceremonies. I thought he did it out of respect for his guest".

"Not at all, your father has changed. He made a vow to Allah that he will change if only you would return safely and has not gone back on his words ever since.

"May Allah be praised" Yusuf responded as they reached the entrance of their bedroom.

Though the misfortunes of Shettima over the years had robbed him of his fame and glory, it had brought something positive and remarkable to his life and that of his family. It caused him to be readily available to his family and also established an unprecedented bond and level of cooperation between him and his wives. More so, he had learnt that success in life was premised on a purposeful, deliberate and determined planned way of living.

With the five hundred thousand naira he got from his in-law to be, Shettima acquired more farm lands and joined his wives fully in cultivating the land. This brought his wives great joy as he took charge of proceedings and provided the needed sense of direction. On the day of the wedding, the narrative about Shettima and his house whole had changed completely, giving his in-laws an icredible sense of pride. Once again, people from all Kono were proud to be associsted with the Kalangu maestro and as the wedding entered its final moments, Shettima looking resplendent in his new baba'n riga brought out his goge and played it one more time, for the last time, drawing cheers and even tears from those who had been closely linked with his travails.

The End