K
freeBOOK INFORMATION
AvailableDetails
- Category
- Love Stories
- Format
- DOC
- Access
- Free
- Reader
- Prepared
- Reading parts
- 120 chapters/parts
- Published
- Feb 22, 2026
- Updated
- Oct 10, 2026
BOOK IDENTITY
Author & publisher
- Author
- Billy S Fari
- Publisher
- Ashwar Media Hausa
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Description
Rushing Into Campus
She drove into the school at high speed because her lectures started at 8:00 a.m., and it was already past 8:30. Knowing there was no good relationship between her and the lecturer who was to teach them that morning—a difficult and overly strict man who enjoyed frustrating students—she panicked. Without caring about the school’s speed limits and traffic rules, she pressed harder on the accelerator, her heart pounding heavily. All she kept praying was that she would meet him already inside the classroom, even though she knew arriving at that time could cause serious trouble between them if she found him there.
Lost in these thoughts, she didn’t realize what was happening until she tried to turn into the corner leading to the lecture area. Suddenly, she slammed hard on the brakes, her head almost hitting the steering wheel when she felt the car hit something in front of her. In shock and panic, she quickly lifted her head, eyes wide, placing both hands on her head and exclaiming, “Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” terrified by the disaster she had just caused.
MM Maidabino
The person she hit was a handsome young man who sold coconuts and dates near the campus corner. His real name was Muhammad Muhriz, but students fondly called him “MM Maidabino” because it was easier to pronounce. Despite the visible marks of hardship his trade had left on his body, it did not stop many of the beautiful girls in the school from chasing him with words of love. But unfortunately for them, he was not interested. He never gave them the opportunity or even the kind of smile that would encourage such confessions.
All he cared about was his business, which he regarded as his dignity and source of honor before people. He was quiet, reserved, and avoided unnecessary talk unless there was a reason. He had firm principles and strong self-control. That was why none of the girls who admired him could boldly approach him to confess their feelings. He was calm and humble, qualities that earned him respect and affection among people.
He could easily tell when a girl approached him with love in her heart because of the subtle changes love brings, even when the person herself is unaware. Whenever he sensed such intentions, even if he respected the girl, he would quickly change his expression in a way that made her retreat and swallow her unspoken feelings. Many girls often argued about him behind his back, though he only heard about it later around the campus. Whenever he did, he would simply shake his head and say, “May Allah guide us.”
He was very handsome, with glowing skin, medium height, and a well-built body. From his appearance alone, no one would think he was poor until they noticed he owned only two sets of clothes, which he wore like uniforms: a long black jalabiya paired with trousers, and a green traditional village-style outfit known as “zauren dari.” That day, he was wearing one of those outfits.
The Confrontation
She quickly stepped out of the car, trembling, and rushed toward him where she saw his fellow trader, Jabir, supporting him. Her panic increased when she saw blood flowing from his forehead and nose. He kept closing his eyes repeatedly, a clear sign that he had been seriously hurt. Nearby, his tray had fallen to the ground, and everything inside it was scattered across the road.
Holding her forehead as if she was about to cry, she looked at the items on the ground and then back at him.
“Subhanallah! Please forgive me. I swear I didn’t see you coming. I thought there was no one in front of me. That’s why I drove fast so I could attend that lecturer’s class—”
Before she could finish, Jabir, who was holding him, interrupted angrily:
“Shut up! You children of the rich are always like this. You have no respect for the poor. You think you’re the only ones who matter and treat others like animals.”
“No, I swear it’s not like that! I was just scared. You know how some lecturers are since you stay around this school and hear what they do. Sometimes over small issues they can push a student back a year out of wickedness, especially if they pick on someone. Please, for Allah’s sake, forgive me, MM…”
Before she could complete her sentence, Jabir shouted at her furiously again, making her flinch, her eyes filling with tears.
“Enough! That’s nonsense. So because a lecturer is strict, you think that means you can speed on the road? Did anyone tell you we are uneducated? These are the kinds of struggles we men complain about—not you, who can just smile at a lecturer and get an ‘A’! You irresponsible girl! You’re not going anywhere until you take him to the hospital, or I’ll report you to the school authorities right now. You even know it’s against the rules to drive like that, but you acted as if this road belongs to your father!”
She drove into the school at high speed because her lectures started at 8:00 a.m., and it was already past 8:30. Knowing there was no good relationship between her and the lecturer who was to teach them that morning—a difficult and overly strict man who enjoyed frustrating students—she panicked. Without caring about the school’s speed limits and traffic rules, she pressed harder on the accelerator, her heart pounding heavily. All she kept praying was that she would meet him already inside the classroom, even though she knew arriving at that time could cause serious trouble between them if she found him there.
Lost in these thoughts, she didn’t realize what was happening until she tried to turn into the corner leading to the lecture area. Suddenly, she slammed hard on the brakes, her head almost hitting the steering wheel when she felt the car hit something in front of her. In shock and panic, she quickly lifted her head, eyes wide, placing both hands on her head and exclaiming, “Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” terrified by the disaster she had just caused.
MM Maidabino
The person she hit was a handsome young man who sold coconuts and dates near the campus corner. His real name was Muhammad Muhriz, but students fondly called him “MM Maidabino” because it was easier to pronounce. Despite the visible marks of hardship his trade had left on his body, it did not stop many of the beautiful girls in the school from chasing him with words of love. But unfortunately for them, he was not interested. He never gave them the opportunity or even the kind of smile that would encourage such confessions.
All he cared about was his business, which he regarded as his dignity and source of honor before people. He was quiet, reserved, and avoided unnecessary talk unless there was a reason. He had firm principles and strong self-control. That was why none of the girls who admired him could boldly approach him to confess their feelings. He was calm and humble, qualities that earned him respect and affection among people.
He could easily tell when a girl approached him with love in her heart because of the subtle changes love brings, even when the person herself is unaware. Whenever he sensed such intentions, even if he respected the girl, he would quickly change his expression in a way that made her retreat and swallow her unspoken feelings. Many girls often argued about him behind his back, though he only heard about it later around the campus. Whenever he did, he would simply shake his head and say, “May Allah guide us.”
He was very handsome, with glowing skin, medium height, and a well-built body. From his appearance alone, no one would think he was poor until they noticed he owned only two sets of clothes, which he wore like uniforms: a long black jalabiya paired with trousers, and a green traditional village-style outfit known as “zauren dari.” That day, he was wearing one of those outfits.
The Confrontation
She quickly stepped out of the car, trembling, and rushed toward him where she saw his fellow trader, Jabir, supporting him. Her panic increased when she saw blood flowing from his forehead and nose. He kept closing his eyes repeatedly, a clear sign that he had been seriously hurt. Nearby, his tray had fallen to the ground, and everything inside it was scattered across the road.
Holding her forehead as if she was about to cry, she looked at the items on the ground and then back at him.
“Subhanallah! Please forgive me. I swear I didn’t see you coming. I thought there was no one in front of me. That’s why I drove fast so I could attend that lecturer’s class—”
Before she could finish, Jabir, who was holding him, interrupted angrily:
“Shut up! You children of the rich are always like this. You have no respect for the poor. You think you’re the only ones who matter and treat others like animals.”
“No, I swear it’s not like that! I was just scared. You know how some lecturers are since you stay around this school and hear what they do. Sometimes over small issues they can push a student back a year out of wickedness, especially if they pick on someone. Please, for Allah’s sake, forgive me, MM…”
Before she could complete her sentence, Jabir shouted at her furiously again, making her flinch, her eyes filling with tears.
“Enough! That’s nonsense. So because a lecturer is strict, you think that means you can speed on the road? Did anyone tell you we are uneducated? These are the kinds of struggles we men complain about—not you, who can just smile at a lecturer and get an ‘A’! You irresponsible girl! You’re not going anywhere until you take him to the hospital, or I’ll report you to the school authorities right now. You even know it’s against the rules to drive like that, but you acted as if this road belongs to your father!”