He calmly greeted and entered a large living room they called "Shakallo," a private room where only a few were allowed. The room was constructed like a museum, spacious and grand, adorned with golden decorations. A large carpet covered the entire floor, with scattered, royal-looking pillows for reclining. 

Five people were seated in the room—four men and an elderly woman. The elderly woman, the head of the household, appeared to be about 76 years old, with red eyes. She wore an Alkaybba, held a tissue, and was counting prayer beads. The men were Waziri, Wambai, Makama, and Sarkin Dawaki. Then, two more elderly men, who resembled the head of the household, entered and sat down as well. His heart sank at the sight of these influential figures, who were second only to the king in authority within the palace.

He approached the center of the room, found a place to sit, and addressed the head of the household, "Gwaggo, did you send for me?" She nodded and slowly wiped her tears with a tissue before saying, "Your father's friends requested your presence as the eldest son of Sarki Kabeer." He quickly looked up at the others in the room who were watching him and said, "Oh."

Calmly, Makama, the most senior among them, asked, "Have all your siblings arrived? We plan to bury the king at four o'clock." With composure and respect, he replied, "Yarima Halilu and Ibrahima are already here. Munir just called me; his flight has landed in Abuja. Umaru's flight just took off from Lagos, but..." He trailed off. In unison, everyone in the room asked, "What about Yarima Riyad?" 

With a touch of hidden anxiety, he replied, "I've been trying to reach him, but his phone isn't connecting." The head of the household sighed deeply and said, "I've never seen such a wayward child like Riyad. One day he's in Egypt, the next in Cyprus, then Oman, Zanzibar, China, or Iceland. Oh, Shatu, today he might be in France. Have you tried his number there, Dan Buri? If you don't have it, go and get it from Fulani."

In a soft voice, Dan Buri (Kabeer) said, "Gwaggo, you know he has never stayed in one place for a full month; he always leaves for somewhere else. Even his mother, Fulani, doesn't know his whereabouts. She has been trying to reach him too, but he hasn't answered. I don't understand Riyad's problem. He prefers roaming the world instead of staying in his country where he was born."

Sarkin Wambai raised his hand and said, "Enough." He sighed and said, "Because of him, we won't delay doing what is necessary for the king. Wherever he is in the world, he will hear the news of his father's death. We'll see him then. Now, go." He got up slowly and left the room, muttering to himself.

In the hallway, one of the men in the room angrily said, "Gwaggo, I have told Mai Martaba countless times to bring Riyad to order. Among all of Sarki's children, there is no one as irresponsible as Riyad. He refuses to learn our customs. What will people say when they see he's the only one absent?"

Everyone in the room was looking at him when the man next to him, Usmanu, said, "No, Yaya. Riyad is a calm child. We all know that his business takes him to these countries. Mai Martaba approved of it because he saw Riyad's passion for business. Riyad has a good heart and is compassionate. We all know this."

With a heart full of anger, the elder named Hambali retorted, "Are you contradicting me, Usmanu?" They were about to argue when the head of the household interjected, "Silence! Hambali, Usmanu, do you realize your brother has died? Are you trying to start a fight because of his child?" They fell silent, not saying another word.

Dan Buri went directly to his mother's apartment. It was a huge mansion, as if moving from one side to another was like traveling to another neighborhood. The palace's wealth was evident at every turn. Despite the mourning and wailing, he passed through and entered his mother's apartment. She was seated among her attendants, crying. He signaled her with his eyes to come. The woman, who appeared to be around 48 years old, adjusted her veil and followed him, her eyes red from crying.

He opened the door to her room and entered quickly. She followed and closed the door, locking it behind her. In a conspiratorial whisper, quite different from her wailing earlier, she asked, "What happened? What did they say?" He smiled and said, "They still haven't reached Riyad, Mama. It made me happy."

Quickly, she clenched her fist and raised it in the air, exclaiming, "Good, Alhamdulillah! Riyad is my only problem, Dan Buri. Among all Sarki's children, you surpass them in wealth, education, and connections. You come from a noble lineage—my lineage. You're the most recognized in the palace. Riyad only flaunts his wealth and educational qualifications since he has a PhD now. But apart from that, what does he have over you? The boy doesn't even have a wife. There are rumors about his health because he refuses to marry. Ask any noble or your father's subjects, they prefer you as the Sarki. Everyone would choose you. You're the most known, the leader of this household, the eldest son of Sarki. You deserve to be Sarki. Now, let’s bury the king. Later, I will personally go to see the head of the household. Apart from Riyad, your uncle Hambali is the main contender for the throne, and I will do everything to eliminate them. Hurry up and go outside so people can see you and acknowledge you. Greet your siblings warmly when they arrive. Show everyone that you are in charge. This will increase your popularity. Now go, and keep me informed of everything, even by phone. Mai Martaba is gone. We will meet him in the hereafter. This kingdom will start to see changes even before he is laid to rest. You are my first son, and you are the heir."

He smiled broadly, even laughed a little. She quickly stroked his face and said, "Stop showing your happiness. Wear a face of grief as if you are the only one mourning in this house." He nodded, adjusted his expression to one of sorrow, and left the room, even though his heart was light.

He went outside where thousands of people had gathered. His siblings, Halilu, Ibrahima, and Shu'ibu, had all arrived with their families. As they entered the palace, Munir was the last to arrive. As he approached where the eldest brother, Dan Buri, was sitting, he joined the crowd of siblings and, before greeting them, asked, "Dan Buri, have you reached Riyad?" Dan Buri shook his head, appearing solemn, and said, "No, since you are all here now, we will proceed with the prayers for Baba. We won't wait for him, even if he's on his way. We can't leave Baba unburied overnight."

Munir said nothing, walked to a less crowded area, took out his phone, and tried calling Riyad. They had spoken just last night around 1 AM, but now his number wasn't reachable. As he was about to put his phone back in his pocket, he remembered something and sent an email to Riyad. Then he returned inside. They performed the ablution, prayed for Mai Martaba, and buried him in the palace.

Rumors spread about how all the king's children had prayed for their father, except for Yarima Riyad, the fifth son among the six sons of the king. Dan Buri felt a sense of satisfaction as he noticed the rumors flying around.

Inside the palace, Munir and his brothers entered the large hall where all the late king's wives were gathered, each wearing a hijab with red eyes. Relatives and well-wishers filled the room. They started by greeting Fulani, who responded to their greetings, then moved to Fulani 2, who also greeted them, and then to Fulani 3 and Fulani 4. After offering condolences and prayers, they returned to the men's section to receive top politicians and important figures from around the world.