Humaira! Humaira!! Humaira!!! Didn't you hear this call or not?" I could hear these words from inside our house.
What made me stop going into the house was that I stepped back and stood listening to the speaker.
In frustration and sadness at how she always had no chance to call someone to do something so that I could also get some rest, she called Humaira.
In my heart, I felt a terrible pang when her anger again seized me for looking at the bowl in my hand, in frustration I said, “You must say she didn't do it, even before I could deliver the order she had given me, she forgot to ask me again to deliver it to her, there was no one in the house but me.”
Instead of rushing into the house to deliver her order, especially since I could hear how she couldn't stop calling my name, I just stood in the hall leaning against the wall and listening while commenting on some of the things that were bothering my heart.
When will I also get some rest and get to do something like the other children? our home, to have the freedom to live like I think my other siblings have?
Every day my heart would find some space or opportunity to ask me a question, but it never asked me a question beyond these questions, when will I also rest? When will I also have the freedom to live like my other siblings have?
When I was a little girl, I took the situation I was in of being constrained, cramped and lacking rest as if it happened to me because I was the youngest of the children who reached the moro mountain.
So I hoped and wished that those who followed me would bring a stick to take me, but later I realized that it was not so since there were other younger siblings of mine who were only ten months apart from me.
Like Suwaiba, and they did not want to do the same things that were done to me, to buy me a wife, to buy me a daughter, to buy me a sister, nothing was wrong and this was the most painful thing for me, except for the kind of thing that made me feel bad If I have the necessary things at home, I will not be able to complete the task, so I will bring one and send it back.
For the reason that I should not be seen sitting and resting, even when I was a little girl, this going back and forth used to bother me, especially now that I have started to understand what is bothering me, and many of my younger brothers who have come after me, who are not treated like this, who even have the right to be sent, say they will not.
My father, Malam Surajo, is a resident of Jahun neighborhood in Bauchi state, Jahun is just opposite Nasarawa, if you follow the Nasarawa gate, the whole neighborhood is around us, even the surrounding neighborhoods, many people know him, and they know our house.
Because he was among the traders who were brought to them by the market years ago, even today, the one who is said to be behind him is in his secret shelter.
I started to be smart in In our house, I was a little girl, I opened my eyes and found my father and his two wives, namely Mrs. Hajiya Majadan, who was called Mama by the whole house and the people in the neighborhood.
Then my mother, whose name I tried to give her, beat me up and beat me up because I was a bad person and had various nicknames, so I also patiently joined in the fight to change her name to Gambo.
Mama is the head of our house, she and my father were married to a young man and a young woman, she is very proud of that and proud of her wifehood.
I can even say that in Mama's case, she sees every woman who is not married to a young man and a young woman and her husband, then she sees that the marriage of that woman is not a real marriage, even if she has children, the children she has are more like the same old ones, but not independent children.
Perhaps that is why when her daughters became girls and brought the matter of marriage, she could not keep it, she refused to agree to the people my father brought to marry them. The reason is, they are women, her daughters will not go and marry other people's children, young men will marry them, so my father had to agree to the Chicken and the Rooster.
