Abban Sojoji Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She raised her hands to cover her ears, tired of hearing the scolding that Buzu, the caretaker, kept directing at her. “You—if you were a witch and caught someone, by God it would take real effort to cure it.”

“I told you, Hajiya isn’t here all the time, so why do you keep coming? Don’t you have any heart, or is it like a dog’s stubbornness? A little girl like you, yet you’re so stubborn, and your big eyes, like a demon’s, staring at people shamelessly. You little devil!”

She slowly lifted her head and looked at him, feeling the shame he was inflicting. Her eyes welled up with tears, her small lips trembled, and her expression changed completely.

In his mind, he expected the girl to snap back at him—after all, kids nowadays never stay silent when insulted. He stared at her carefully. He saw her step back, perhaps planning to leave, but instead, she found a spot against the wall of the house, knelt down, rested her head on her knees, and started crying heart-wrenchingly.

He stopped and watched her. Signs of regret washed over him; deep inside, he felt he had been too harsh. As a Muslim, he should have understood the little girl who always waited at the gate every day. He had never asked himself why she kept coming. No matter how many times he scolded her, it never stopped her from returning.

Calming himself, he approached where she was, knelt in front of her, and said, “Enough of the crying! Tell me, what’s troubling you? Why do you keep coming every day looking for Hajiya?”

She raised her tear-streaked face, hiccupping as she spoke through her sobs: “I came to see Hajiya because I heard she helps young girls from poor families who are paid to work.”

He paused for a moment, studying her, then asked, “Why are you looking for work, little one? Aren’t adults supposed to handle that?”

She shook her head. “No, there’s no one. It’s just me and my siblings. They’re sick and admitted to the hospital. The doctors said they need treatment, but I don’t have the money because there are too many of them. That’s why I want to find work, so I can save enough to pay for their treatment, so they won’t die and leave me alone!” She finished speaking and buried her face, sobbing.

Now he understood why the girl was so persistent. He thought to himself, “This little girl carries such responsibility. But she’s very thoughtful!”

He took her hand and said, “Wipe away those tears. I’ll help you see Hajiya. Come, let’s sit on this bench so you can rest.”

She slowly stood, and together they sat on the bench. After a few quiet moments, he said, “Be silent. Stop crying. God is the protector of His servant. If a person has no one, believing in God will make Him your guardian. Focus on prayer, and your siblings will get better. Then you can play with them again.”

She smiled, feeling comforted by his words. He reached for the tea he was brewing in a small metal kettle, pouring it into two small cups he always used. She watched the careful way he prepared the tea, mesmerized by his attention to detail. He handed her a cup, and she took it with both hands, drinking a little to quench her thirst from the day before. He poured himself a cup and continued telling her stories of spiders and cats.

She barely noticed what he was saying; the sweet tea captured her attention, especially since it had sugar. She sipped it slowly, and he kept refilling her cup. Finally, he said, “By God, you drink well! Listen, when Hajiya finds work for you, you start, then pay me back for my tea.”

She smiled, astonished at how attentive he was. He wasn’t blind; he had noticed the girl in her modest clothes. Even when Hajiya didn’t arrive on time, he opened the gate himself at Azahar prayer so they could enter. He fetched water for ablution, and they prayed together. He laid out a mat for them, leading the prayer while she followed silently behind.

After they finished, they remained on the mat. He played with some beads in his hand, while she got lost in her thoughts until La’asar prayer. Just before they prayed, the sound of Hajiya’s car signaled her arrival.

He felt joy in his heart, knowing she would finally meet Hajiya. He quickly finished the prayer, ran to open the door, and she arrived in her sleek car. She drove straight to the parking spot, and he followed behind, calling out to her as usual.

She was so happy that she couldn’t stop smiling, sitting patiently on the prayer mat while waiting for the caretaker to talk to Hajiya. He opened the car door, and she stepped out. Ma sha Allah, such women—well-formed, healthy—her skin was smooth, though it seemed she also used some bleaching cream. Her outfit was a rich blue lace adorned with stones, perfectly fitting her. She removed her veil, her hand decorated with diamond rings, and her necklace sparkling with diamonds. Her face was elegantly made up, eyes large and striking, a long nose, and red lips.

Respectfully, he said, “Welcome, Hajjatu Makkatou!”

She squinted slightly, tired, and replied, “Yes, Aku, King of Warmth. Is anyone else here?” She said this while opening the back door of the car because she hadn’t come alone—she had young girls with her from her village.

The caretaker replied, “Yes, there are many people, but I didn’t let them all in. I just told them to wait, except for one boy who comes looking for you every day. Today, I told him to wait for your return.”

She raised her eyes and noticed the little girl wearing a hijab on the prayer mat, then turned to the other young girls sitting in the car. Seeing she had opened the door but they refused to get out, she huffed and said, “Are you planning to spend the night in the car?”

One of the talkative girls replied, “Hajiya, the car feels so cold, like it’s seeping into my bones. I don’t want to come out.”

Hajiya shook her head with a small smile. “That’s just the AC. When we go inside, there’s AC everywhere too.”

Feeling relieved, the five girls stepped out of the car. They were those who had been rescued, their belongings squeezed tightly together—different tops, skirts, and shoes. Their faces were heavily made up, red lips applied over their natural lips, black dots marked from nose to cheek, heads shaking constantly.

This was how she had collected them from the village, prepared them, and brought them to work at her home—thus expanding her influence and business. She looked at Buzu and said, “Bring the girl in.”

Then she addressed the girls: “Come inside, but stay close to me. Any of you who misbehave will be sent back to your village to continue selling porridge at the market.”