<p>Here is the English translation:</p><hr><p>From this agreement, I accepted to breastfeed Sa'adatu for a year. On the day the year was complete, he fulfilled his promise and divorced me with one talaq. He said I could have the house as a token of respect for giving birth to Sa'adatu. He knew I had no family or place to go, but since I had chosen this path for myself, he left me the house and took his daughter, saying he would return to the village to raise her.</p><p>This wasn’t my concern as long as I gained my freedom. No one can understand the pain of being forced into marriage except someone who has experienced it. Forced marriage is a challenge not all women can endure.</p><p>Seven days later, I sold the house to a neighbor, gathered my money, and took a bus to Maiduguri, determined never to return to Damaturu for the rest of my life.</p><hr><p>We were dropped off at Bama station. From there, I didn’t know where to go. Hunger and exhaustion overwhelmed me. I kept walking by the roadside with my bundle of belongings. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t realize I had walked into the middle of the road until a speeding truck hit me. Despite the driver’s best efforts, he couldn’t avoid me, and the vehicle flung me onto the road.</p><p>Blood gushed out from everywhere, and all I could hear was the murmuring of the crowd. Other vehicles in the convoy stopped, and the guards got out under orders, picked me up, and rushed me to the hospital.</p><p>I regained consciousness three hours later to find myself in a luxurious hospital. White doctors surrounded me, administering fluids and blood transfusions. When I turned slightly, I saw a tall, dignified man with a kind smile, wearing a turban that signified royalty. He wasn’t old but also not a young man. Behind him stood two imposing guards.</p><p>He began by apologizing, explaining that he had just been picked up from the airport and was on his way home when his driver accidentally hit me. He asked for my name, which I told him. He then requested my home address so they could inform my family, as I had fractures in both my leg and hand, making it impossible for me to leave the hospital that day.</p><p>“I have no mother, father, or family. I am all alone and have nowhere to go,” I responded tearfully.</p><p>The man—His Majesty, King Yusuf of Askira—stared at me for a while before saying, “Would you be willing to come with me to the Askira palace, where I could be your parent and also your husband, as a partner in life?”</p><p>I heard his words as if in a dream. I couldn’t believe what my ears had just heard or that it was real… (and that was how I became a QUEEN). That moment marked the beginning of my journey as the young queen of King Yusuf of Askira. From the very first glance, I felt a unique connection to him—an exceptional feeling of love and affection I had never experienced before.</p><hr><p>Whatever happens to a servant is preordained in the Divine Tablet. I believed it was Sa'adatu's destiny that led to my marriage to her father. I had never felt love for him because love is from Allah. He plants it in the hearts of His servants, just as He plants dislike. However, I believe that if Hashimu had approached me differently for marriage, I might have endured living with him for the sake of my orphanhood and lack of support.</p><p>After completing my `iddah (waiting period) in the residence of the Askira Imam, the Imam became my guardian. The town's Waziri, Ibrahim, became the king’s guardian, and they performed our marriage. The marriage caused significant controversy in the Askira palace because King Yusuf had never married a commoner, let alone someone with no lineage or family. All his wives were daughters of other kings from various Borno royal families.</p><p>The constant taunts from co-wives and the shame of being a commoner without roots pushed the king to investigate my family lineage. Eventually, they traced my parents’ relatives, who had come to Nigeria, back to Chad. Some had scattered around the world, and others had passed away, but about five direct relatives were located in Chad. This discovery gave me some relief from the taunts about my origins, although the co-wives still mocked me as "a commoner’s daughter."</p><p>Life in the palace was challenging, especially for someone like me who wasn’t raised in royalty. I faced many difficulties, particularly from Ya Gumsu. However, Ya Kirjinoma was relatively harmless, while Hibbani was full of hypocrisy and scheming. My only solace was the king’s profound love for me, which eased every difficulty and challenge I encountered in the Askira palace.</p><p>King Yusuf didn’t allow me to remain uneducated. He hired a degree-holding tutor to teach me modern education at home and an Islamic scholar for religious studies. This way, I gained knowledge in both fields, surpassing even my co-wives, who were too proud to continue learning. According to them, the education they received in their parents’ homes was enough.</p><p>I gave birth to five children, but none survived beyond a week. The king believed it was due to the guilt of abandoning Sa’adatu when she needed me the most. Whether true or not, I now accept that I owe Sa’adatu, and it is essential to seek her forgiveness. Sa’adatu is the most patient and loving child toward her mother, despite all the neglect she has suffered.</p><p>Whenever she comes to me, her face lights up with joy, her demeanor brightens, and her eyes radiate love for me. What is her fault in what transpired between me and her father? She knows nothing about it. Her innocence compels me to acknowledge my responsibility toward her.</p><hr><p>Quietly, Fulani Bilkisu closed her eyes again and looked toward Sa’adatu’s room, where she could hear her cheerful chatter with Zarah. Could she share this story with Sa’adatu and hope for her forgiveness? Indeed, she had wronged her deeply.</p><p>With this thought, she stood up, heart heavy with guilt, and headed toward Sa’adatu’s room.</p><hr>
