My father's name is Alhaji Imam Khalil, known by everyone. His original name is Abdurrahman, but he is called Imam because he was named after his grandfather. My father and his sister Dije, whom we call Umma Dije, grew up with immense love and care from their parents. Their father was a prominent scholar, which ensured they received excellent upbringing. Anyone who met them had to admire their composure and intelligence. My father got married for the first time at the age of twenty-three to my mother, Sa'adatu, his paternal uncle's daughter. Their love was mutual, and everyone was delighted with their union. My parents lived harmoniously, respecting and loving each other dearly.

In the second year of their marriage, my mother conceived my eldest brother, Muhammad. After him came Sadik, then Umar, and then Usman. Shortly after Usman's birth, my father married my second mother, Fateema (whom I call Mami), a native Fulani from Yola, while my father's family is Fulani from Potiskum.

When Mami joined the household, she found that my mother did not harbor any jealousy towards her and treated her as a sister. Mami also disregarded any advice from friends that could cause strife and lived peacefully with my mother. A year after her arrival, my mother gave birth to Ali, without any gap between the pregnancies. One and a half years later, my mother conceived again and gave birth to Hamza. At this point, my mother promised to give Mami the next child she would bear after realizing she was pregnant three months after Hamza's birth. However, a month after Mami started caring for Hamza, he passed away.

Mami was deeply troubled by this, but my mother reassured her that she would give her the next child she would have, as doctors confirmed that Mami had slim chances of conceiving naturally. Mami, overjoyed, asked, "Even if it's a girl?" My mother nodded, though deep down, she doubted if she could part with a daughter, as she had longed for a girl among her sons. My father had often said that any daughter they had would be cherished more than anyone else in the family.

When it was confirmed that my mother had given birth to a girl, she felt very anxious and regretted her promise to Mami. Nevertheless, she couldn't go back on her word. Doctors also advised my mother to stop having children to maintain her health. So, on my naming ceremony, my mother handed me over to Mami. Everyone was surprised by her decision. Mami, overjoyed, hugged my mother with tears of happiness. People thought my mother was foolish, but she ignored the gossip and stayed firm in her decision. She handed me to Mami, saying, "I leave her to you, Fateema, in this life and the hereafter. I will only breastfeed her." Mami embraced me tightly, filled with immense gratitude for the precious gift.