Diddigar Kaya Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Her eyes—swollen and heavy from endless tears—fell once again on the wall clock. The faint light streaming through the window made it possible for her to see the time.

12:30 a.m.

She slowly pushed herself up, her head feeling unbearably heavy, as though a massive stone had been placed on it.

Her gaze drifted to her handbag. After a long moment of hesitation, she pulled it closer and brought out a small white bottle, gripping it tightly in her trembling hand.

She scanned the room.

This room held fragments of her life’s history. The girls sleeping inside were distant relatives who had come for the wedding ceremony she had never imagined would happen until events spiraled out of control. She could confidently say that at least five of her close relatives were with their mother in another section of the house—none of them at peace since the incident began.

Her own sister, who usually shared the room with her, had moved to another section because she couldn’t tolerate her crying.

With effort, she stood up. Dizziness nearly made her collapse.

Slowly, she walked to the door and stepped outside. The courtyard was empty. Only the faint glow from her father’s section suggested that he was still awake.

Her hands trembled as she removed the small gate latch and walked into the larger compound, which contained several sections of the family house.

She moved toward the darker area at the back where the light barely reached.

There, she stopped.

Her eyes fell on the white bottle labeled Sniper, with the image of an insect printed on it.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her father’s last words replayed in her ears, sharp and burning as if he were speaking them now.

“Fauziyya, I didn’t know you were this shameless and worthless until you stood before Jadda and Yaya claiming you would kill yourself because of what he did to you. Do you think any parents would agree to let their son marry someone like you? Even me—” he pointed at himself, “—if Farhan came to me asking to marry a girl with your kind of behavior, I swear I would never approve it!

“If you were truly born of me, go ahead and kill yourself once the wedding is fixed! From the moment you do that, I will cut off every tie between us. I will curse your corpse before it’s buried! There will be no funeral rites in my house—I will not pray for a disbeliever! You know the ruling: whoever kills themselves dies a disbeliever.

“So don’t hesitate. Leave my sight!”

She sobbed harder, her heart aching as though it were being torn apart.

Why couldn’t anyone understand her?

Why was it always her?

Her hands shook violently as she unscrewed the Sniper bottle and raised it toward her lips.

Maybe death would be easier. Maybe leaving this world would free them all from the burden of her existence.

A sudden movement behind her made her spin around in fright.

Their eyes locked.

He stood there—his hands tucked into the pockets of his white silk pajamas, which accentuated his strong build and commanding presence. His sharp eyes slowly traveled from her hand to her face.

He stared at her for several seconds before clicking his tongue.

With confident, powerful strides, he walked toward her until he stood so close it felt like he could erase her from existence.

Then he leaned slightly back and spoke in a low, unsettling voice.

“So death feels easier to you than marrying me?”

He paused, his gaze hard.

“You’d rather the comfort of the grave? If you die as a disbeliever because of the life I’ve prepared for you—just because someone mentioned marriage between us?”

His jaw tightened.

“Faizan did not commit zina. By Allah, he will never marry a fornicator. Put that inside your thick, lunatic skull.”

Without another word, he spat to the side and walked away, not even bothering to look back.

The poison Fatima had planted in his heart was enough for him. If she died, he would be the happiest person alive.

Her scream echoed behind him.

It did not make him turn around.

He continued walking until he entered the men’s quarters of the house—the room that had been his long before marriage was ever discussed.

And she stood there alone, the poison bottle still in her trembling hand.