Amaryar Zayyad Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Even when the call to prayer was made, Rashida still had not come inside. In the end, Zayyad went into the bathroom, performed ablution, then came out and headed to the mosque. There he found her sitting in the sitting room with Anty Wasila, deeply engrossed in conversation. When she saw him, she welcomed him, but he acted as though he had not heard and went on to the mosque. Rashida clicked her tongue lightly and watched him leave, then turned to Anty Wasila.

“Just wait till he comes back, you will hear how he will bury me in complaints. Ever since he brought up this marriage issue, nothing I do seems right anymore.”

“Well, you should not be surprised. All men are like that. Once they want to marry another wife, they start changing toward the first one. All you can do is be patient. Let us pray first, then continue our talk before he comes back and finds us here.”

She said this as she stood up. They both rose and went into her bedroom to perform ablution.

When Zayyad returned from the mosque, he found the sitting room empty. He could hear Ilham and the others making noise in their room, so he went to the kitchen, put water in the kettle, set it on the fire, then went back to his room and sat down scrolling through his phone. Then Safna’s call came in. He picked up and said:

“Zayyad’s bride, I hope you are not angry with me today.”

“How could I be angry with the secret of my soul? I hope you are well. How are Ilham and the others?”

“We are all fine, Alhamdulillah. In sha Allah, very soon you will see me, so prepare something delicious for your husband, because I know you will not disappoint me.”

She laughed and said:

“It is as if you know I already kept something aside for you. But you will have to come before you see it.”

“Come on, my wife, at least give me a hint.”

“No, I refuse. No cheating. You will have to come and see.”

He smiled audibly as he lowered the phone and looked toward his door, which had just been pushed open halfway but no one had entered. It was Rashida. She had wanted to come in, but when she heard him on the phone, she stopped, feeling a thick wave of black jealousy choke her throat. Still, she swallowed it down. After forcing down the bitter saliva in her mouth, she pushed the door and entered. The two of them looked at each other, neither face giving anything away. She came closer to him and said:

“Welcome back, Ilham’s father. You came in a while ago while I was in the bathroom, and when I came out, Anty Wasila and I got carried away talking.”

“Of course you would forget about me, since now I have become useless to you and you no longer love me.”

He said, tightening his face. Rashida gave a soft smile, one filled with many meanings.

“How could I, insignificant as I am, stop loving you? You too know that you are the forgetful one.”

“Yes, that is true. But Rashida, why is it that every day I have to remind you to check my flask and, if there is no water in it, fill it up, because when I return I do not like waiting for water to bathe with?”

“I forgot. Please forgive me.”

“And what about my singlets and small underwear that have piled up in the bathroom? I told you to wash them. Why have you not washed them? Every day you have to be reminded of something. The other day, I did not even have any left to wear, and in the end I had to go out and buy new ones. I am not forcing you to wash my clothes. I even pay to have clothes washed. It is just these small ones that are not suitable to send out for laundry, so I told you to be washing them. But even that has failed.”

“You know the housework here is too much for me. I had planned to wash them today, but Anty Wasila’s visit made me forget. By tomorrow, In sha Allah, I will wash them.”

“May Allah make it better.”

He replied, his mind troubled. Rashida fell silent and could not speak, only scratching the back of her neck. Zayyad raised his head and looked at her.

“Well then, say what is on your mind.”

“Well… hmm… what should I cook for you? We made pasta, and I forgot to call and ask what you wanted to eat.”

“Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un! Every single day I come back, you greet me with something that will upset me. So now, for Allah’s sake, must it be when I return from work that the food I am supposed to eat in my own house will start being cooked? After all the hunger I come home with, I still have to wait for you to cook? This problem started from when you were a new bride, and up till now you still have not corrected it. No matter how much I love you, little by little you are reducing your value in my eyes, Rashida.”