(Facing The Truth)

The picture was clear — Amir and Munira, sitting close inside his car, her hand resting on her stomach. That one photo was all Alhaji Kabeer needed to ignite the fire.

Inside the mansion, he stared at the image in silence, anger rising in his chest. “So this is the distraction?” he muttered.

He called his personal aide. “Find out everything about this girl. Name. Family. Address. I want her gone — quietly.”

***

Munira had not slept. Telling Amir about the baby had been a weight off her chest — but it also changed everything. He had a right to know, yes. But could he protect her? From his world? From his father?

She knew Alhaji Kabeer’s power. It was the kind that didn’t shout — it destroyed silently.

At the same time, Amir sat alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, overwhelmed. He now had a child on the way. With Munira. His real wife. His heart told him to protect her. But his mind knew the price of going against his father.

He picked up his phone and called her.

“I want to marry you publicly, Munira. No more hiding.”

She was silent.

“You already did,” she said softly. “But your father never accepted it.”

“This time, I don’t care if he does.”

***

The next day, Munira arrived at work only to find the hospital director waiting.

“Munira, there’s a report against you. They say you’ve been meeting high-profile politicians in secret. That you’re involved in a scandal.”

“What?” she gasped.

“It’s political. I advise you take some days off.”

She knew immediately — it had begun. Amir’s father was moving.

But she wasn’t afraid.

Later that evening, she met Amir under the shade of an old tree near her home.

“They’ve started,” she said. “Your father wants me gone.”

Amir nodded. “Let him try. I’ll protect you.”

She looked him in the eye. “Then fight for me, Amir. Not with words. With action.”

And he promised.

But promises are dangerous in a world ruled by power.

And across town, Alhaji Kabeer made a call.

“Break her spirit,” he said. “And make sure Amir never sees her again.”

Rain fell hard over Kano that night, but it didn’t stop the black SUV from pulling up quietly outside Munira’s apartment. Inside, two men stepped out, dressed in plain kaftans. They weren’t strangers — they were messengers of Alhaji Kabeer, and they had one job: silence.

They knocked politely. Munira opened the door, surprised.

“Sister Munira?” one asked, pretending to smile. “We were sent from a health NGO… we heard about your case.”

Before she could respond, they stepped inside, closing the door behind them.

***

At that moment, Amir was on the phone with Raliya, who had grown increasingly worried.

“She didn’t come to work,” Raliya said. “And she’s not answering her phone.”

Amir’s heart dropped. “I’ll find her.”

He drove through the night like a man possessed, finally arriving at her compound just as the men were leaving. One glance at Munira’s frightened face told him everything.

They had threatened her — warned her to leave Kano, to never contact Amir again.

But Munira, trembling, stood firm.

“They said if I don’t disappear, they’ll ruin me. Professionally. Personally. Even… even the baby.”

Amir clenched his fists. “Then it’s war.”

That night, he went home and confronted his father.

“She’s my wife. That child is mine. If you try to hurt her again, I swear — you’ll lose me forever.”

Alhaji Kabeer stared at him, calm and cold. “Then you’re no longer my son.”

Silence.

A door had closed. And another had opened.

Now, Amir stood alone.

But for the first time, truly free.

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