Azaad Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She was a very beautiful young lady—fair, tall, and elegant, with a natural, striking beauty. Her height was just right, and she looked to be in her early twenties. She had a towel wrapped around her body, and God had blessed her with a well-shaped figure. She stood in front of the mirror, picking up a bottle of body oil—the only thing on the dressing table besides a small perfume bottle that was almost empty.

She glanced at the wall clock and saw it was 7:48.

“Oh God, I’m almost late,” she said, her dimples appearing as she spoke.

Quickly, she applied the oil, then used the little perfume on her body. She moved to the bed, picked up the clothes she had already laid out, and dressed in a hurry. After that, she took her long nut-brown hijab and wore it, then added her niqab. She grabbed her bag, put on her shoes, and headed for the door.

Just as she was about to reach the door, it was suddenly pushed open.

A young girl—no more than 13 or 14 years old—stood there, staring at her from head to toe with a look full of contempt. Seeing this, she simply brushed past her, trying to leave.

“Wallahi, if you dare step out of this house today, you’ll face the punishment of Allah!” the girl said.

Hearing this, she stopped and turned back, looking at the girl through her niqab.

The girl added, “Mommy is calling you. She said you should come to the living room immediately.”

“Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un,” she said in distress.

“Ohh, so our mother is now a devil, right? Wallahi, I’ll report you to her!” the girl snapped.

Without replying, she turned and walked toward the living room, her heart pounding rapidly as she prayed silently that it wasn’t some task they were about to give her—because she was already very late.

With greetings of peace on her lips, she entered the living room. She greeted them almost three times, yet none of the people there responded—a situation she was already used to.

She raised her niqab slightly and walked over to where the woman was seated, then knelt down, her voice trembling.

“Mommy, I’m here,” she said, repeating it more than three times.

The woman turned to her and said,

“So you finally decided to come?”

“Wallahi, Basmah just told me you were calling me,” she replied.

“Lahh lahh! You want to lie against me? I told her a long time ago, but she stayed to finish what she was doing before coming. And when I told her, do you know what she said?” Basmah said.

The mother shook her head, signaling her to continue.

“She said she’s seeking Allah’s protection from you.”

“Oh, so I’m a devil now?” the mother said, pointing at herself.

Alesha, her voice shaking, said,

“Wallahi, Mommy, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Nothing…”

“So you mean Basmah is lying against you?”

“Wallahi, Mommy, it’s you who keeps tolerating her—that’s why she disrespects you so much,” a young man in the room said.

The mother opened her mouth to speak, but another girl interrupted:

“Bro, it’s because you’re always soft with her—that’s why she behaves like that.”

The mother smiled slightly and said,

“Alright, enough of that. Where is the indomie Ummie asked you to prepare? Are you done with it?”

Alesha kept quiet, her head bowed, until the mother shouted at her. She raised her head and said,

“Uhm… I was about to be late, so I asked Uwani, the house help, to cook it while I got ready.”

“Uwani?” Ummie said, lifting her head from her phone.

“You asked Uwani to cook it? Was it Uwani I asked, or you? I saw her, but I specifically asked you to cook for me. Wallahi, if she cooks it, I won’t eat it. Mommy, you can hear her—this is pure disrespect!”

“Calm down. Why are you getting worked up over indomie as if you’ve eaten nothing else?” the mother said.

“Alesha, come here,” the mother ordered, signaling her.

Without hesitation, Alesha moved closer on her knees.

Suddenly—slap!—she felt a heavy strike across her face.

“This is for coming late when I called you,” the mother said.

Before she could recover, another slap landed.

“And this is for the task I gave you that you refused to do.”

Tears flowed from Alesha’s eyes like an open tap.

“That’s good,” the young man commented.

“Get up from here before I give you more nonsense!” the mother snapped.

“And go to the kitchen right now and cook what you were told. Mansur, if she doesn’t move, come and deal with her here!”

Quickly, Alesha stood up and picked up her bag.

“Useless girl, covering herself in a long hijab like a saint,” the mother added harshly.