Laraba is a gorgeously shaped bossy girl in her early teens, with highly developed bodily curves beyond her tender age and an ever present beautiful smile on an ugly face. Her nose is an extension of her forehead and her large ears are too visible from the front that they appear to be on her thin cheeks. She is the third child of four daughters, with a single brother rather belatedly bringing the rear of five siblings. Laraba was born on a Wednesday and unofficially named after the day she came into the world, like it is fashionable amongst Hausa speaking people. With her stunning figure and wise ways, she is always a handful. She smartly rode on the immature silliness of all her companions, who mainly fumbled around her in their naïve good natured mannerisms, ever terrified of what she seemed to represent to them as a friendly bully. This tale of juvenile delinquency with a mature outlook, captures the feel of this ruse. Laraba grew into her teens as an intelligent girl and for long periods she always had her small following of friends, who look up to her in more ways than their own respective relatives consider remotely sensible. Her earliest years are littered with troublesome revelations of her huge imaginative potentials. Adults had lots of reasons to dread the mere harmless sight of her, for she is every inch the juvenile menace. Laraba's choices neither less nor more require her to concurrently free her feminine worries of their plight of emotional suppression. This is her story of overcoming this plight, represented in her case by her six year old little brother, a man like all. Men loved and partnered by women still simultaneously pour physical scorn on an age old farce of chauvinistic doctrines which have favoured tradition over common logic for too long. Too many women over centuries have merely put on a brave face that only sufficiently hinted the futility of their expressed agitations for true equality. Her travails reveal that yet again modern societies and its men remain quiet, but quite resolutely still steadfast in the sustenance of that ancient model of the gradual dominance of men over their women folk. In her sole brother, Laraba realizes the young boy isn't ever seen to be criticizing the women folk. Instead he is said to be just ever critiquing as he ages into slowly appreciating them, even as his sisters resist attempts to belittle their efforts to make him their better partner. The man forever master the woman's identity and personification of it. Laraba would not be restored to having faith in the same things that have always failed her. Like her sisters, she lost the urge to kneel and gaze into the mind of God and plead her case. It seemed rather odd to obtain some slack from the same deity that scripturally put them in their situation as eternal subordinates. As men stained the heavens and tattooed the abyss with intimate convictions, people generally get increasingly tangled up, even when they collaborate easily, ostracizing the sociopath and still emulate him. They love their spouses and yet blackmail them, scorn their beliefs and still preach them. They will befriend their dogs and still eat them. It is the ultimate reflection of the double standard methodology people apply to living their daily lives.