Hauwa Kulu Part 4 Complete Hausa Novel

Tomorrow Sarham will arrive—tomorrow is also Surayyah’s wedding day. Up to this time, Surayyah has been staying at Haj. Kulu’s house, only coming home occasionally to greet her parents and then returning. She doesn’t even enter the room where Hauwa stays—except if they meet in the main sitting room and exchange brief greetings, and even that is usually only when Hauwa is the one who first pays attention to her.

Just as Mama made excuses to Sumayyah about Madinah, she made excuses to Surayyah about Hauwa-Kulu—that is, their “blood doesn’t mix.”

But gradually, whenever Mama sat with Surayyah, she constantly preached to her about Hauwa: that Hauwa was a trust placed in their hands; that she had no one in Kano except them now; and since Surayyah was marrying her brother, she must keep ties with Hauwa—one day she might even carry her as an older sister.

Mama didn’t know that deep down, Surayyah didn’t feel that way at all. She looked down on Hauwa’s social class and background. To her, Hauwa was simply a “liability” that had dropped on her parents’ shoulders—her husband wasn’t taking her, yet they had set her up in the house and she was “growing fat” there like someone eating yeast.

Mama entered Hauwa’s room holding a bottle of Swan water and said, “Hauwa, have you prayed Asr and you’re sleeping like this in the evening? Sleeping after Asr doesn’t bring good fortune.”

Mama’s voice woke her from a heavy sleep. Hauwa stirred and sat up, saying, “Mama, I was doing my litanies; sleep just carried me away.”

Mama placed the bottle in Hauwa’s hand and said, “This is real honey—good medicine for hemorrhoids. It’s among the things they mixed for Surayyah. Drink plenty of it—three times a day.” Then she also placed another bottle—one jar—beside the bed with a cup on top and said, “From today for the next three days, I want this to be the water you drink, do you understand, Hauwa’u?”

Hauwa nodded and thanked Mama, even though she didn’t know what it truly was for.

Hauwa obeyed Mama, drinking everything she brought with a single-minded trust, without any other thoughts in her heart. She believed Mama would never give her something that would harm her, even though Mama kept saying it was for hemorrhoids. She also ate the Ghana chocolate sometimes—because anything you told Hauwa was good for the skin, she didn’t joke with it. A skin she couldn’t see, yet she still cared for it deeply, protecting her dark complexion. Throughout the day, she could barely eat properly, because the “sweet” things Mama kept giving her had filled her stomach.

As evening fell, Dr. Sarham arrived at their house. Apart from his skin tone not having the same brightness as theirs, you would think he was a man from the Maghreb. The small beard he grew further highlighted his tall stature and handsome features. His charisma and presence showed clearly now, at about thirty-five—past the peak of youth. That beard made him look even more like a complete, dignified man—healthy, well-blooded, and sheltered by a comfortable life.

Dr. Sarham Abbas Shanono greeted inside his mother’s room, because he didn’t find anyone in the main sitting room. He greeted and no one answered, so he headed straight to Mama’s room.

What he saw impressed him greatly: Hauwa was sitting in front of Mama, reciting Qur’an—doing extra lessons with her. Mama had long understood that Hauwa hadn’t gone deep into religious studies and hadn’t completed a full Qur’an recitation, because she only attended an allo school at Badala, Kofar Naisa.

Mama hadn’t started teaching her today—she had been giving her extra lessons for a while, especially from Suratul Baqarah, after noticing Hauwa’s mind worked differently when it came to retaining things. Mama believed many people with eye problems are exceptionally intelligent, quick to memorize and quick to understand. Since Sumayyah left, Mama had been teaching Hauwa whenever she was home. The same with school work—because they both chose the same path (Law). Whenever Hauwa found something difficult, or received an assignment, Mama helped her through it.

Sarham stood at the doorway, staring at Hauwa with a small smile. Yet inside, he felt like a dishonest man—especially because he didn’t see any “special” preparations for his arrival the way Mama usually did whenever he came. Deep down, guilt was tearing him.

The way Hauwa sat before Mama, reciting and memorizing, you would think she was a biological daughter learning from her own mother.

In Sarham’s eyes, Hauwa had grown and become strikingly beautiful. She looked smooth, refined—like the girls of the house, Sumayyah and Surayyah. She had grown up noticeably; she was now nineteen. Her skin—even with the “tarwada bath” she used—was such that you wouldn’t simply call her “black” without adding black beauty. Her chest had filled out, full like the milk-fed teens of schoolgirls.

Mama received him warmly with an open face, but Hauwa went very quiet—like water had swallowed her. She only answered his greeting inwardly to fulfill the Islamic duty, because she was thinking, Is that Yaya Doctor’s voice?

Mama hadn’t told her he would come—not even as a joke—even though she knew Surayyah’s wedding was tomorrow. Surayyah’s moving away was said to be next week, when she would be taken to Ikko (Lagos, where Engr. Aliyu works). So why would her brother come for his sister’s wedding? Besides, she knew Yaya Doctor didn’t come to Kano because of her—and he would never come because of her.

Sarham came close to Mama, bent his legs, and sat before her like a respectful servant before a king. Mama just smiled and said, “Welcome, truly welcome—welcome, father of Waheedah.”

He then sat on the chair facing Hauwa, smiling as he looked at her, and said, “So you’re studying like this, Maijidda? Masha Allah.”

At first, Hauwa intended to ignore him, but she couldn’t. She greeted him politely, then stood up to give them space and said, “Mama, I’ll go and pray.”

Mama said, “No problem. Tell Mardiyya to come and bring you the shan yar (a small snack) she made for you. Maghrib is almost here.”

Sarham followed Hauwa with his eyes as she left, feeling the wall with her hand. He was amazed at how much her body had matured and at the confidence now sitting in her presence—“the kind of fullness that makes people unable to look down on you.” Was there anyone who cared for daughters the way his mother did?

When Hauwa reached the doorway, Sarham said, “Maijidda, do you know the way to your room? Should I come and escort you?”

Mama replied, “She doesn’t like being guided. Even if Mardiyya offers to take her somewhere in this house, she tells her to sit down—she knows every direction in this house. Mardiyya even told me at school she walks straight into class by herself and leaves Mardiyya behind.”

Hauwa went to her room without answering them.

Only after she disappeared did Sarham finally take his eyes off the path she went through. He let out a quiet sigh and said, “It seems, Mama, you really enjoy living with Maijidda.”

Mama said, “You don’t need to ‘suspect’ it—I won’t hide it from you. She has completely taken away my loneliness for Sumayyah. Hauwa is someone who knows people’s worth, loves learning, cares about religion, and respects elders—these are proofs of good upbringing from a good mother. Just leave her with her habit of not taking jokes—and she hates being treated as if she can’t see. Right now she’ll be angry for no reason at all.”