GOJE SADAUKI UMAR RETURN NA BINTA UMAR ABBALE

In appearance, he seemed like a real man, but what a shame—a man at thirty-three, unmarried! A fearless hunter in the wilderness, yet at home, a lazy bachelor incapable of securing peace for himself. What a waste of bravery, for without marriage, you are not considered a complete man."
An old woman was saying these words.
My eyes fell on the man she was addressing. He turned his back; his body was clad in hunting attire made of thick black fabric. The shirt barely covered his shoulders and stopped above his knees. He paired it with jeans and boots with laces. From his back alone, I could believe the old woman's words. Truly, wherever there is a strong, well-built man, he would be included among them. He was tall, broad-chested, and muscular, with no trace of frailty or weakness.
Still, he hadn’t turned around, seemingly occupied with something.
She hissed and said, "Umaru, I’m speaking to you. Will you stay at home tonight, at least?"
Without turning, he replied sharply, "No! I won’t sleep at home tonight." His tone was so intense it frightened me. I hid again, adjusting my pen and paper nervously.
She said, "Fine! I just wanted to ask because it’s almost dusk. I’ll lock my door; go wherever you please."
He didn’t respond, and I saw him tying large amulets around his biceps. He picked up a hat with ear flaps and placed it on his head before finally turning around. I quickly lowered my head, my heart pounding!
He had large eyes that were fiercely red! His lips were pitch black, signs of a fair-skinned man marred by excessive smoking and the use of strong drugs. His skin was rough and patchy.
Before I could process it, he let out a terrifying scream, clenched his fists, and looked east, west, north, and south. He began chanting praises of himself:
"I am Umaru! The man of the world! The one who scatters wild beasts! The first and only in my family! I’ve defeated thousands, and I’ll defeat thousands more! I’ve bested every scoundrel and every tough man! I am Umaru, the man knives cannot pierce, no matter how sharp! I am Umaru, with a hundred dogs, beloved in the east, west, north, and south! Tested and undefeated! I conquer for myself and for others! I, Umaru, grandson of Tanimu through Uwale! If there’s anyone bold enough to challenge me, let him come for his mother’s sake!"
He was shouting, his eyes bulging, his mouth clenched, and his body writhing in the room. Seeing him unsheathe the long, sharp knife hanging on his shoulder, the old woman rushed to hold him back. He pushed her aside, brandished the gleaming blade, and began rubbing it against his body.
I was trembling all over; this search for a story had led me straight into danger. Without a second thought, I bolted out of the house.
Instead of running far away, I hid behind a tree, waiting to see him emerge. About ten minutes later, he came out, fully armed for the hunt, with bows, arrows, and knives strapped all over his body. Truly, I could confirm my suspicions—this man, Umaru, was a warrior.
He marched with an intense stride, and then his dogs appeared from behind the house, followed by about ten young men dressed in identical hunting gear. They surrounded him and began chanting praises:
"Goje! The warrior at home and in the wild! Umaru Al-Faruk! You know no jest, no fear, no games! You conquer for yourself and for others! Man of the world, scattering wild beasts! Lion! Leader of hunters! You are the guide, Goje! Lead us forward; show us the way."
He merely stared at them, his lips twitching, before nodding. He spoke sharply, "We’ll spend a week battling; I hope everyone has said goodbye to their families."
They responded in unison, "Yes, your highness! We’ve done as you commanded."
He set off, and they followed, along with their snarling dogs, filling the area with their footsteps and the sound of barking.
Meanwhile, a young woman, tied up in a vehicle, was their victim—kidnapped with the intent of demanding ransom from her wealthy family.
She was struggling to breathe, her body drenched in sweat, as they bound her tightly. She repeatedly recited the Shahada (testimony of faith), believing her death was near.
The night was dark, and the roads were clear. The driver sped the car recklessly. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, causing the car to screech and veer off-road.
Umaru and his team arrived swiftly at the scene, where the dogs' howls pierced the air. Umaru approached the wrecked car fearlessly, kicking the door open. In that instant, the kidnappers panicked and fled, leaving the girl behind.
Umaru carried her on his shoulder despite her burnt legs and tattered clothes. They left the wreckage far behind. Once safe, he laid her down, examined her wounds, and cut away the burnt fabric. She screamed in pain, but he showed no emotion.
Though terrified, she managed to confront him. "I am Princess Zinat! How dare you treat me this way? Whatever you want, the palace will grant it! You’ll regret this insult!"
But Umaru ignored her protests, barked orders at his men, and walked away, leaving her helpless in the forest. 
She stumbled over a large log and fell badly, hitting her head on the sharp edge of the wood. Blood immediately began gushing out. She placed her hand over the wound and let out a loud scream that echoed through the forest, startling the animals within. Instantly, their cries filled the air, and some even began emerging from their burrows.
The group froze in place; no one dared to move. With a signal from his eyes, the leader instructed them to remain still and avoid any actions that might draw the attention of the animals. The forest became silent, with only the sound of the creatures' cries breaking the stillness.
She began to feel dizzy and fainted onto the grass, her face and chest soaked in blood.
With great composure, he adjusted his bow and arrow while watching his surroundings for signs of a lurking animal. He slowly moved backward until he reached where she lay unconscious. As he bent down to pick her up, he felt a sudden rush of wind. In an instant, he leapt into the air and, with a swift move, unsheathed the sharp knife hanging on his back and cut off the head of the snake that had lunged at him. The snake was as long as a tree.
He turned on his flashlight to examine her face, marveling at how he had come back to help her. This wasn't typical of Goje! After all, this was the same young lady who had tried to slap him earlier.
He sighed and shook his head, as though resigning himself to the situation. Tearing a strip of cloth from her waistband, he folded it and tied it around her head to stop the bleeding. Then, with remarkable ease, he lifted her onto his back, securing her with the cloth before continuing through the dense forest, determined to find water to save her life.
He called out to his men, and they emerged from their hiding places. Many had hunted small animals that had ventured out. He ordered them to retrieve the giant snake he had killed. After giving instructions, he pressed on until he reached a water source.
Carefully, he laid her on the sand by the riverbank, scooped water with his hands, and began splashing it over her body. Once she was thoroughly drenched, she took a deep breath, and her eyelashes fluttered. She attempted to open her eyes but found them heavy, her head throbbing with pain. Placing her hand on her head, she could only groan in anguish.
As he walked away from her, she spent a while regaining her sight, which was blurry at first. When her vision cleared, she spotted him standing a distance away, but only his back was visible. Struggling with her aching body and the severe burns on her thighs, she sat up and looked over herself, tears streaming down her face. She clenched her teeth, filled with rage and humiliation at the thought of being abandoned in the forest by a filthy stranger who had seen parts of her body no one should have. The thought of it infuriated her.
Hearing her sobs, he turned to look at her, his fiery red eyes locking onto hers. She glared back, calculating how best to retaliate against him if he dared approach. Without paying her any attention, he knelt by the river and began performing ablution.
The sound of footsteps and barking dogs alerted her. She turned to see his men approaching, accompanied by their hunting dogs and carrying their spoils.
They unloaded their supplies in a clearing and began setting up a fire. Some went to the river to perform ablution, just as their leader had done. He led them in congregational prayer while she sat watching, bewildered by the sight of a seemingly devout man among a group of what she assumed were bandits.
When they finished praying, he raised his hands in supplication, and they all responded in unison. She was astonished, questioning how a man like him could possess such knowledge of religion. To her, he was nothing more than a criminal and a barbarian, unworthy of such spiritual discipline.
After prayer, he sat down with the regal posture of a king, leaning on one knee with his hand resting on it. Instead of the traditional handshake, his men slapped their hands together in a rough greeting, calling out, "Peace be upon you, Goje! Hail! Master of hunters! May fortune favor you, the one who overcomes knives and horns!*"
He responded with a nod, releasing a deep breath as smoke from his pipe filled the air. Observing this, the men left to attend to various tasks, some roasting meat while others ventured deeper into the forest.
She remained seated, her body itching and her burns worsening in the intense sunlight. Her legs became unbearable, and as she moved to stand, her wounds began oozing blood and pus. In her pain, she accidentally stepped on a scorpion, which stung her. She screamed, her body trembling as she crawled to the riverbank.
Suddenly, his shadow loomed over her. He stepped forward, crushing the scorpion underfoot. She looked up at him, trembling like a newborn. Without hesitation, he squatted beside her, his breath hot against her face. In a flash, she spat a mouthful of saliva at him. Calmly, he wiped it off with his hand and gave her a piercing stare.
Furious, she grabbed a handful of sand to hurl at him, but he dodged, the sand landing on his clothes. Brushing it off, he muttered, "What is your name, and where are you from?"
Amid her sobs, she retorted, "You’re asking me? After taking me from my home before my parents, you dare to ask my name?"
Shaking his head, he replied, "I’m only trying to help you, but I don’t know what happened—"
"Liar!" she interrupted, seething with anger. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, waiting for his next words so she could slap him.
He studied her in silence, baffled by her audacity. Never in his life had anyone contradicted him so boldly, let alone a young girl. Yet, his innate sense of mercy for women held him back from retaliating. Instead, he focused on her wounds, removing the burnt skin from her thighs despite her protests. She winced in agony, but he ignored her curses.
He pulled out a bag of salt and sprinkled it on her burns, her screams echoing through the forest. Leaving her writhing in pain, he fetched a thick cloth, wrapped her body in it, and carried her to a shaded spot on a mat.
Exhausted, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the overwhelming pain. **