Babban Yaro Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

A strange shock overwhelmed me hearing what the woman was saying — that she had the power to make Amjadu marry again. God’s will! Even if Amjadu were to marry three other women and I became the fourth, it would not bother me at this moment, because truly, he is no longer the one before my eyes. I was eating my food without appetite, lost in thoughts about people’s affairs.

They entered together — Jahid and Khalid. Jahid was carrying a large shopping bag with the label Muddansir & Brothers. He walked straight to where I was sitting, picked up the baby, and began playing with her. My anger and hurt would not even allow me to look in his direction. Meanwhile, Amjadu and Khalid were greeting Inna Suwaiba and the others who had been sitting and waiting for him.

Softly, Jahid said, “Bride, you smell nice. I know I have wronged you in your eyes, but I am certain that one day you will be proud of me in your life. Asma’u, may Allah establish goodness in your life.”

Hot tears filled my eyes. Truly, I had lost a genuine lover. Jahid’s mother had hurt me in my life. Indeed, any woman who gets Mujahid as a husband would enjoy her life.

He placed the shopping bag on my lap and said, “Right now, I am speaking as your elder brother. Asma’u, not for my sake but for Allah’s sake, get up and prepare yourself. We are going out to the reception we organized for you and your husband.” After saying that, he left carrying the baby on his shoulder.

Weakly, I stood up, took the bag, and headed toward the bedroom I had just come from. As I was about to enter, I heard Inna Suwaiba saying, “I have told you my final word. If you truly regard me as your mother, then obey my instruction. We were not even important in your life on your wedding day — we only heard about it from outside, and she holds more value to you than us. And now you go and bring yourself more trouble by marrying a girl with a questionable background! We know everything — we cannot be deceived. Even your friend’s mother refused to join families with bad lineage, that’s why she ended that marriage. But you, because you lack wisdom, accepted it. We will not tolerate it.”

Inna Suwaiba’s words were extremely harsh. Even Amjad himself felt uncomfortable. Asma’u was standing there hearing everything, and his friends were present while his mother spoke like that. Surely Jahid would feel bad inside his heart.

Indeed, that was what happened. Granny felt like slapping Suwaiba for trying to ruin matters like this. It was disgraceful behavior. As an elderly, sensible woman, she should not have spoken that way.

I ran into the room and threw myself onto the bed, burying my face and crying hard. Tears streamed down my face. That was it — Amjad had finished destroying my dignity. What had I ever done to him? Why would he tarnish my name before people? Now I did not even know how the community saw me. Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un.

The bedroom door opened. I quickly wiped my tears, thinking it was Granny.

He slowly walked to the edge of the bed, his hands in his pockets, standing over me. For more than five minutes he just looked at me, then sighed and clicked his tongue softly.

“What are you crying for?”

I remained silent.

He placed one foot on the bed and lifted my face with his hand. I quickly pulled away and turned my head. He smiled faintly and stroked his beard.

“So just because Inna told me to marry again, you ran into the room crying?”

I remained silent, though my heart was boiling. If I spoke at that moment, my words would not be pleasant. I could even insult him because of the intense anger I felt toward him. But I knew he was my husband now, and whatever I did would carry reward or sin. Silence was better for me.

Lowering his voice, he said, “Learn how to relate with me. If you fail, you will suffer with me. I will marry again if Allah decrees it for me. So don’t fix it in your heart that I will live with you alone.”

I raised my hand toward him, my lips trembling, not even knowing what to say.

He lowered his foot to the ground, his hand still in his pocket, giving me a look whose meaning only he understood.

I said nothing. I lowered my hand and tried to hold back my tears because I hated him seeing me cry.

In a firm tone, he said, “You opened your mouth like you wanted to speak but you stopped. Just say it — don’t let it choke you. I am listening.”

With my head lowered, I said, “Whatever you do to me, I leave it to Allah. You have damaged my name in this world. Everyone sees me like a loose woman. That is enough.”

The way I said it clearly angered him, but he ignored it. Instead, he moved closer and sat beside me, holding me tightly. I was at the edge of the bed, fear gripping me. I tried to get up but could not.

He looked at my chest with heavy-lidded eyes and said, “Now I will try something with you. After that, you can leave me to Allah as you said.”

Before I could react, he pressed himself onto me. My body was already weak from the wedding stress and fear. He increased his weight and stared at me intensely. I panicked, knowing his lack of shame — there was nothing he might not do.

I pushed against his chest, trying to move him away. He did not budge. Instead, he grabbed one of my hands and forced it downward against him, his eyes still fixed on me.

In that moment, I felt like sinking into the ground from shame. I quickly clenched my hand, but he still toyed with it. Then he withdrew his hand, lifted himself slightly, and gave me a strange look.

“Now you can leave me to Allah, as you said.”

He adjusted his outfit properly and walked out of the room.