Abban Sojoji Takun Karshe Complete Hausa Novel

“What’s it?” Omar asked, looking at him. Seeing Omar smirk, he stopped speaking for a moment and frowned. “Omar, I don’t want games. Please, tell me the truth. Did something happen last night? I saw my bed sheet all scrunched up, like someone wrestled on it.”

Omar laughed heartily before replying, “No, nothing happened. Just forget about it. I found you like that because you were in pain, so I just wanted to help you… then you fell asleep.”

He pursed his lips, staring at Omar. He didn’t believe what Omar was saying. Omar wasn’t the type to laugh for no reason, just to tease.

Omar stood up and looked at him. “Do you want me to go downstairs, or do you need something brought to you?”

He turned his head slightly and glanced at the tray on the table. “This girl came and organized these things. I also want my bedroom tidied.”

“Okay, I’ll tell her. You rest, my man.”

Omar turned to leave. At the doorway, he glanced back at him, and their eyes met. Surprised, he said, “Omar, why are you looking at me like… like that wicked man…” He said, pursing his lips.

Omar chuckled softly and walked away. He frowned and muttered, “I want to understand him… I don’t know what that laughter means.” He lay back on the soft mattress, rolling slightly on the bed, and his eyes fell on the thin strands of hair scattered on the bedsheet.

Quickly, he lifted his head and stared at the hair. Surprise overtook him—how did this hair get here? He was certain his sister’s hair couldn’t have fallen because she took good care of it. He slowly picked up three thin strands and held them to his eyes, studying them. They were long, dark brown, exactly the same shade as his sister’s hair color. Calmly, he examined the hair, then placed it carefully next to the other three strands.

Within five minutes, he noticed the difference. Surely, this wasn’t his hair. Whose was it? On his bedsheet?

He picked up the three strands, stood up, and walked to his bedside drawer. Opening it, he pulled out his notebook and placed the hair on the first page, then closed it and returned the drawer to its place. He then headed to his closet to get ready.

💋

After Marshal Omar left the room, Sehrish went directly downstairs to the dining area, where Aunty Azmee was arranging breakfast. As soon as she arrived, Azmee smiled at her:

“Omar, welcome. I hope you slept well?”

His face relaxed. “I’m fine, Alhamdulillah.”

After a pause, he asked, “By the way, where is that girl, Sehrish?”

Azmee’s jaw dropped slightly at his question; she knew he would ask about this. Her voice trembled as she replied,

“She isn’t feeling well. She stayed in her bedroom to rest. I told her to lie down, that’s why she didn’t come out… but…”

“Has she told you about what happened yesterday?” he cut her off.

“Yes, she told me everything,” Azmee said in a trembling voice.

Omar said, “Okay. I want to talk to her. Tell her to come see me in my part; I’m waiting for her.”

Quickly, Azmee agreed and left the breakfast preparation to go fetch Sehrish. She gently pushed the door open and found her lying down, still tossing in sleep. Her body hadn’t stopped moving. Azmee approached and lightly tapped her shoulder:

“Sehrish! Sehrish!!”

Startled, Sehrish jolted awake. “La’ila ha’ilallah….” she exclaimed, trying to rise. Azmee covered her mouth and whispered, “Calm down, it’s me.” Slowly, Sehrish exhaled, looking at Azmee, her eyes still showing signs of sleep.

Azmee withdrew her hand and said, “Omar wants to talk to you. Go see him in his part now.”

Sehrish widened her eyes, her voice trembling:

“Aunty Azmee, I… I’m scared… what will he ask me…?”

Azmee interrupted, “Don’t worry. I know what injection he’s asking about. Just tell him the truth and go.”

Her face looked ready to cry. “Aunty Azmee, I’m really scared. I don’t want to get in trouble with anyone in this house. I know they might suspect me. Oh Allah…” She muttered, wringing her hands, full of anxiety about what might happen next.

While standing there, the phone suddenly rang. She jumped back, not expecting the sound. She glanced at it, placing it on the three-seater nearby, and hesitated before picking it up. It seemed urgent.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the call, holding the phone to her ear. Before she could greet, a voice said:

“Hi, it’s Omar. Yesterday you said you’d call me back, but I’ve been waiting in silence. Are you ignoring me?” It was Hossana’s voice.

Sehrish stayed silent, listening carefully. Hearing Omar’s voice quiet on the other end, she whispered,

“He’s not here… he’s not near…”