Amani Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

After they finished talking, Hamidah told Alhaji that it turned out Amani had gone to Bauchi to stay with her aunt. With that, their minds were put at ease, and they began making plans to return to Katsina the following day. Baba Idi swore that whenever his eyes met Amani’s again, he would deal with her.

They stopped at Funtua, where Sahura said goodbye to her siblings, picked up her belongings, and then they continued on to Katsina, with Kamilu coming along as well. Mukhtar told Kamilu to keep an eye on Alhaji until he returned, since he was traveling the next day. He showed Kamilu the same care he himself gave Alhaji—making sure he ate and drank well, took his medications, and maintained personal hygiene—and Kamilu promised to follow everything exactly.

Alhaji instructed Rakiya to take Sahura to Hajiya Rabi’s room. Rabi said she should stay there, and Kamilu was also given a room in the house, close to Alhaji’s. Mukhtar told him that once he returned from his trip, he would take them to the company and Amani’s boutique, and they could choose where they wanted to work—either at the shop or at the company. The rest of Kamilu’s siblings whom Alhaji had employed would not live in his house; he had provided them with accommodation near the company. Only Kamilu would stay with them because of caring for Alhaji and also because of Mukhy’s trip, whose duration even he himself did not know, especially if Amani agreed for them to travel together. Apart from Baba Sahura and the one staying in Hajiya Rabi’s room, the household would consist of Rakiya the cook, the gatekeeper Malam Tajuddeen, and the other outdoor workers.

However, Mukhtar knew it would be difficult. Despite all the anger in Amani’s heart and the emotional cage she had locked herself into for no clear reason—except her hatred of marrying him and being told point-blank to her face that she had no choice—she would not be able to resist going to her mother’s place. At most, if she went, she would say she would not return. He already knew that was what would happen, and he had prepared for it.

At exactly twelve noon the next day, Mukhtar Diffa landed at Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa Airport. He was dressed in a white traditional robe in the large Wagambari style, with a brown zanna bukar cap firmly settled atop his thick hair. His Italian leather shoes were also brown, matching the brown leather strap of the Rolex watch fastened to his left wrist, where fine soft hair lay across his skin. He walked calmly and with dignity, as was his habit, pushing a medium-sized travel bag.

Hamidah herself drove her car to pick him up. She had left Amani bathing after she woke up, enjoying a moment of calm relaxation. No matter how Hamidah tried to persuade her to break her silence, Amani refused. She said from that day on she would stop eating and drinking; she preferred hunger to harm her until she died, so that Hamidah could deliver her corpse to Mukhtar and Alhaji—since, according to Hamidah, what they had done to her was not wrong, it was love.

Hamidah only shook her head and left with a faint smile.

In Hajiya Muna’s living room, Hamidah formally introduced Mukhtar, telling her he was Amani’s husband. The marriage had been conducted the previous day, and that was why Amani had come without their knowledge. Now Daddy had said Mukhtar should come and take her so they could go to her mother’s place in Freetown.

Hajiya Muna exclaimed, “Glory be to God, masha Allah, tabarakar-Rahman. What I want to know is the reason she came here in a hired car without your knowledge on the very day her marriage was conducted. Is it that she doesn’t want this marriage to such a handsome husband, or does she just dislike everyone?”

Embarrassment seized Mukhtar and he lowered his head further. He himself knew God had favored him in looks, even if people didn’t say it, but he didn’t like hearing it—it always made him feel awkward. Hajiya continued, saying:

“With a fresh marriage like this, she did something so disgraceful—traveling all the way to Bauchi without her husband’s or her father’s permission? Call Amani for me; I’ll give her a thorough washing. Yesterday she came here wobbling, looking like someone weighed down by problems, and now it turns out she was running away from marriage.”

Neither Hamidah nor Mukhtar replied, but they were glad that Hajiya would give Amani a serious scolding. Mukhtar only kept his head down, bent over, tapping on his phone. He sat on a mat with his legs folded, facing Hajiya Muna, who was seated on a chair advising him to be patient with Amani, the same patience one would have with a younger sister—since she hadn’t grown up with her mother, she deserved to be excused. Her character, she said, wasn’t like that of those raised with their mother and extended family; she had been raised among men.

Mukhtar, however, was already tired of being told to be patient with Amani. What kind of patience was that? Was she the only one who had ever been spoiled with oil and care? In his view, they should simply be patient with each other, because he himself wasn’t some fragile little brother. If she wanted peace, they could live peacefully; if she chose hostility, then hostility it would be. Either choice was fine with him. No woman could disturb his peace of mind—if he wanted a thousand in a day, he could get them. It wasn’t pride; perhaps the time simply hadn’t come.

Mukhtar regarded Amani differently only because of her father’s generosity toward him, the love and trust he had shown him, his compassion over Mukhtar’s ill health, and Mukhtar’s own desire to repay kindness with kindness.