Hauwa Kulu Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

The vehicle stopped in front of them and she told him, “Kurna.” Not because she knew anyone in Kurna, but because she knew they had at least gone far from the city center—toward the outskirts of Kano. The driver said “five naira.” Even though Inna knew he had overcharged them because he saw they were poor and helpless, she didn’t bargain. She held Hauwa’s hand and they climbed in with their big bundle of belongings.

When they reached Kurna, she didn’t know where to tell him to drop them. The driver was tired of driving around Kurna with them and said, “Should I take you to the motor park if you’re going to town?” Without thinking, Inna found herself saying, “Yes,” so he took them to the old motor park—Tashar Kuka—and dropped them there.

Inna held Hauwa’s hand. Both of them were staggering with exhaustion and hunger. They went to a tea seller’s stall. It was early morning; he glanced at his spoon. Inna sat Hauwa on an empty bench. The tea seller came over and said, “Is everything okay? Nobody begs on my bench—this is a business.”

Hauwa raised her big eyes, rolling them upward and downward—he could tell she was glaring at him. There was nothing she hated more than being associated with the word “begging” just because she was blind. If Inna hadn’t taught her good manners—especially not to talk back to elders—she would have insulted him. The tea seller continued:

“Please, move on, for Allah’s sake. Don’t spoil my business with that bundle of yours—it smells like rags.”

Inna forced herself to speak calmly. “Please pour her tea to drink. I will pay you. How much is one cup? Cut bread for her.”

That was when Hauwa couldn’t hold it in anymore. She said, “Inna, even if this is the last tea left in the world—even if hunger kills me—I won’t drink it, since he called us beggars!” She burst into tears, stood up, felt around for their bundle, lifted it and placed it on her head. Inna stood, took her hand, and they left—while the man was still talking:

“Tell your mother I send greetings—so even blind people can be arrogant, with wicked hearts like stray dogs. I don’t like dealing with beggars and disabled people.”

Inna spotted the stall of a woman selling food. There weren’t many people there. She pulled Hauwa and they went to her. The woman was busy serving three customers at the table. Seeing Inna, she could tell she was a “Kano–Jeddah type” (a proper Kano woman). Inna greeted her, and she replied politely: “Welcome, ma. Are you buying food?” Inna said, “Yes—serve her until she’s full, and add a piece of meat. How much is a bowl of rice and stew?” The woman said, “Seven naira.” She served Hauwa a lively, satisfying portion of food, led her into a quieter corner of the stall, and gave her water to wash her hands.

Inna sat there absent-mindedly, tying and untying her wrapper. She didn’t even feel her own hunger—because her heart was dark with grief and pain over what Zakari had done to them. She loved her home deeply: all her memories with her husband and children, all the ups and downs of marriage, even the small joys of life—everything about her life was tied to that house behind Badala. But now, in a single day…? She used the edge of her wrapper to wipe tears and sniffed loudly—Hauwa heard it.

Hauwa raised her large, round eyes toward the direction of Inna’s sniff. “Inna, aren’t you going to eat too?”

“Eat, Kulu, and leave me alone, you hear? I can’t even put water in my mouth today.”

Hauwa pulled her hand away and leaned against the wall, just like Inna. She hugged herself tightly, tucked her head into her knees and said, “Then I won’t eat either—since you won’t eat, Inna.”

Inna said, “Kulu, it’s not hunger—I just don’t feel it.”

Hauwa said, “I know it’s anger that’s stopping you from eating. But there’s one thing I want you to remember, Inna: if Kawu Zakari destroyed our home and seized it with cruelty because of his oppression—Allah is not an oppressor to His servants, and He does not forgive the right of the oppressed. I will never leave my sujood in the five daily prayers without taking my complaint about him to Allah.

“Inna, forget Baba Zakari. Let’s face what will feed us. I want us, Inna, to start a food business right here at this motor park, since I’ve noticed you still have money.”

Inna said, “Yes, I have money—what that boy Jamilu gave me before he left. But Hauwa, you don’t start a business immediately. First you sit, you study the place and the kind of people there—their habits and how they behave, and the kind of life that goes on there. How can we live in a motor park, when it’s a gathering point of hardship for young girls? Let’s move on. If Allah wills, we can even sleep in a mosque.”

All of this conversation was happening within the hearing of Hajiya Ladi, the food seller. She was counting the day’s sales, listening with one ear—because she had finished the morning cooking and was calculating profit to prepare for the afternoon.

She felt pity for Inna, and Hauwa impressed her. Those eyes of Hauwa clearly didn’t see, yet her heart was not dead. She didn’t say, “We’re at the motor park—let her beg.” Even though she was blind, she could have become her mother’s way of making money. She was a young girl, likeable—yet she was telling her mother to start a business instead.

Hajiya Ladi came closer and sat with them. She said, “I heard everything you discussed. Even though I don’t know where you’re from, I will give you a place to stay in the house where I live. And I’ll also give you food work so you can help me. We’ll come here together every day—when we finish selling we’ll return home together. And I’ll feed you three times a day.

“I won’t lie and say I’ll pay you with money. The food you’ll eat and the place I’ll give you to sleep will be your wages. And if Allah wills, once you learn how food-selling works in this motor park, you can later set up your own table.

“Even for me, Allah wrote for us that our livelihood would be in this motor park—it wasn’t my choice. Truly there are criminals, and it’s a meeting point for all kinds of dirty business, but what can you do about what Allah has written—that your provision is here?”

Inna and Hauwa poured out thanks to Hajiya Ladi. From that day, she gave them one room in her house in the Rijiyar Lemo area. She cleared it out and told them to sleep there. They would wake early, go to the motor park to set up her morning food, and by four o’clock they would sell the afternoon batch and return to her house together.

She taught Inna the different kinds of dishes she cooked—and to her surprise, she found that Hauwa’s Inna was highly skilled in cooking, even beyond expectation. And she was clean in body and environment. Very quickly, she grew fond of Inna and held her close.

From that day, they began working for Hajiya Ladi. Hauwa was not left idle either—she washed the bowls she was given, washing them perfectly, arranging them neatly upside down in a basket.

Before a week passed, they had become very good at Hajiya Ladi’s food work, and they became familiar with Hajiya Ladi’s other two workers, Zulai and Amuna.

Hajiya Ladi had asthma; on any day it flared up, she couldn’t do anything—she would just lie down coughing—so she handed everything over to Inna, since she was older than Amuna and more mature and careful. This made Zulai angry and she quit, because she felt the newcomer had been favored over her.

So it became only Amuna and Hauwa handling the remaining chores. Even tasks you wouldn’t expect a blind person to do—Hauwa could do them: slicing vegetables and chopping salad ingredients, without cutting her hand. And any task that could be done while seated—Inna would assign it to her.