BABY ZUMA

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Baby Zuma by Maryam Muhammad

Baby Zuma (translated as "Sweet Honey" or "My Little Honey") is a steamy, emotionally charged Hausa romance novel by Maryam Muhammad (pen name Saheebah), a celebrated author in the Miki Writers Association known for her bold explorations of forbidden passions, youthful temptations, and the clash between desire and destiny. Released as a paid digital book with a WhatsApp contact for access (09136907725), this "romantic hot story" unfolds in the glittering underbelly of urban Nigeria—hotels in Lagos, opulent mansions in Abuja—where affluence amplifies the thrill and peril of secret liaisons. Spanning vivid, dialogue-driven chapters, the narrative blends explicit sensuality with poignant family drama, serving as a cautionary tale of love's intoxicating pull amid societal expectations and sudden crises.

The story revolves around Nadrah, a stunning 16-year-old beauty nicknamed "Baby Zuma" for her irresistible allure—like sweet honey drawing admirers into a sticky web. With her long, silky hair, piercing "sexy eyes," pink glossy lips, and curvaceous figure that belies her youth (often mistaken for 20 or 21), Nadrah embodies youthful temptation. Yet beneath her confident facade lies a girl hardened by circumstances: skilled at extracting favors through intimacy but guarded against emotional ties. Her casual lover, Yasir—a brooding, handsome man whose possessiveness borders on obsession—becomes both her escape and her cage, pleading for marriage amid their fervent encounters. Interwoven are glimpses of Nadrah's affluent family, including her sobbing sister Nafisa and a powerful, enigmatic father in critical condition, hinting at hidden legacies and protective kin like the commanding Areef, whose chance intervention at an airport collision sparks unforeseen sparks.

In the provided excerpt, which pulses with raw intensity from pages 3-4 and beyond, Nadrah's world ignites in a whirlwind of passion and peril. Awakened by Yasir's desperate plea for a hotel rendezvous, she relents despite exhaustion, arriving in a form-fitting sky-blue abaya that accentuates her lithe form. Their reunion erupts into a symphony of ecstasy: Yasir's hungry kisses trace her body, lavishing attention on her firm breasts with teasing licks and sucks that elicit Nadrah's moans of "Oushhhh shiiiiiii baby dad'iii wllh." What follows is a marathon of positions—missionary thrusts that leave her gasping "Ashhhhh baby dad'iii," playful hip-grinding, and oral indulgences where she savors him like "lollipop," their shared releases flooding the room with cries of "Wayyo Baby zumah dad'inki zai kashe ni." Yasir's post-coital vulnerability peaks in tearful marriage proposals—"Baby zuma don Allah ki yarda muyi aure... zan baki duka muddin zaki yarda ki aure ni please"—met with Nadrah's firm rejection, shattering him into childlike sobs as she locks herself in the bathroom, weeping over the weight of commitment.

The heat simmers into tenderness, with Yasir's apologies drawing her back for one more round of fervent lovemaking—his tongue on her nipples, fingers exploring her "headquarters," culminating in a climactic union that leaves them breathless. But bliss fractures with a frantic call: Nafisa reveals their father's dire hospitalization at Diyana Hospital, propelling Nadrah into panic. She flees half-dressed, rebuffing Yasir's concern with a sharp "Kai fa ba mijina bane" (You're not my husband), her mind a blur as she races through Lagos traffic.

Parallel vignettes introduce Areef, a stoic, fair-skinned executive in a high-rise office at Royal Coast Wellness, his "sexy eyes" heavy with fatigue as he sips coffee and delegates curtly. Driven to Abuja's airport in a convoy of luxury cars, Areef's princely demeanor—flowing hair, red lips, and a wrestler-like build—contrasts his weary hunger. At home, his 12-year-old sister Iftee bounces with excitement over his arrival, chattering to their elegant Ammi in a mansion rivaling royalty. The excerpt peaks in chaos: Nadrah's distraught drive leads to a fender-bender with Areef's motorcade; tumbling from her car in disarray, she's reprimanded by a bodyguard, only for Areef—watching through the rearview—to intervene coolly: "Karki sake banziya kawai... ya mare ki sau d'aya ke kuma kina neman ki mareshi har sau uku" (Don't hit again... he hit you once, and you're seeking to be hit three times after the first miss). His gaze lingers on her exposed cleavage, stirring an unspoken tension that hints at fate's twist.

Thematically, Baby Zuma dissects the duality of honeyed pleasure and bitter consequences: Nadrah's transactional trysts with Yasir expose the hollowness of lust without love, while Areef's poised authority suggests a deeper, perhaps redemptive connection. Muhammad's prose, drenched in sensory details—the shine of lip gloss, the zing of ice cream cravings, the slap of skin on skin—immerses readers in Hausa urban romance's forbidden fruits, warning of how "zuma" (honey) can ensnare the soul. Teasing the central riddle—"Shin yaza ta kasanne da sune? Nadrah zata amince ta auri Yasir... ko kuma wani nata kaddaran yana gaba ne" (Will she stay with him? Will Nadrah agree to marry Yasir, or is another fate ahead?)—the novel builds to revelations of family secrets and rival suitors.

A must-read for enthusiasts of sizzling Hausa erotica like Namijin Zuma by Sa'adatu Bintu Abdullahi, Baby Zuma captivates with its unapologetic heat and heartfelt pleas, proving that in the game of love, even the sweetest honey can sting.

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