He lay on the soft carpet grass resting, his head on his hands, staring thoughtfully at the shining stars scattered across the night sky. The large garden had two sections—one filled with fruit trees like mango, guava, and cashew, and the other with resting chairs. Except for the chirping of birds, the place was silent as the night deepened. It was around two o’clock in the morning.
He wore a traditional Fulani knitted robe, and his head was wrapped in a turban that partly covered his face. As one of the night guards of the house, he often spent his nights lying in the garden, watching the stars. It brought him peace and joy.
By his side was a long stick called a gora, which he used to guide cattle. Though it had been nearly a year since he last visited their family’s cattle camp, known as "Rugar Shehu," he still kept the stick by his side.
Suddenly, the sound of someone landing and the barking of the house dogs startled him. He quickly sat up, looking around, thinking someone might have jumped into the compound. But there was no sound except for the dogs’ growls. Grabbing his stick, he walked straight to the tree near the garden wall, suspecting that whoever had come in might have landed there.
On the other side, a girl struggled to free her veil, which had gotten caught on a tree branch. She pulled with all her strength, knowing that if she didn’t escape quickly, the guards would catch her. The dogs were angrier than usual tonight, and that made her even more anxious.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned sharply and saw him raising his stick, ready to strike. Out of fear, she shut her eyes tightly and cried,
“Oh no, Daddy!!!”
