Hibbatullah Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Ḧ̤Ï̤B̤̈B̤̈Ä̤T̤̈Ṳ̈L̤̈L̤̈Ä̤Ḧ̤

(For the sake of Allah)

Innocent, empathetic, humble, and romantic love

Publisher: HAFSAT HAFNAN

Wattpad: HAFNANCY

*Intelligent Writers Association*

*{onward together}*

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In the name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate

Page 1 to 3

Hiranandani Hospital, Vashi — a Fortis Hospital, Mini Sea Shore Road, Navi Mumbai, India

Room 09

A very handsome little boy, who was no more than seven years old at most, was lying on a hospital bed before my eyes. At a glance you would know this child was Arab, for there was no part of his features that did not show it: the sharpness of his nose, the shape of his hair, his narrow mouth, above all the lightness of his skin, and the rest of the natural traits of the Arabs—all of them belonged to this child. Oxygen therapy had been fitted into his nostrils, and it played a very important role in delivering oxygen gas to him so he could breathe well.

Seated beside him on a patient’s chair was his mother, Her Majesty, Princess Najmiyyah Umar Farouq Bahago. Looking at her once, you would be certain that she too was a pure Arab woman. She and her son looked exactly alike, as though someone had split a single image into two. She was a beautiful woman of rank and dignity, with abundant knowledge of both Arabic and Western education.

On a second look at her, you would notice the intense distress surrounding her, caused only by seeing her most beloved son lying there in a condition that could be described as life or death. He had been in a coma for a full year now. He was suffering from medulloblastoma, a cancerous brain tumor.

Both her hands were locked around his. She was crying softly, in a low voice, so that if you did not listen carefully, you would not hear her sobs. Her eyes had completely reddened; the white eyes she used to have were now long gone, turned into a deep burning red.

She turned her gaze to the little boy, who was breathing with great difficulty with the help of artificial gas, oxygen gas.

She said, “Please, Aryaan, my son, you just have to stand on your feet again. Aryaan, for God’s sake, get up. The pain has gone on long enough. It’s almost a year now that you’ve been in a coma. Please, son, wake up. I don’t want to lose you for the second time again, Aryaan......... Oh Allah, I ask You to grant my son health for the sake of the noblest of creation, Prophet Muhammad (SAW)... and if he will not wake up, then Allah, I ask You to hasten the end of this suffering for him.”

She was overwhelmed by tears. The power of God! It is said that illness is not death, and now, at this very moment, Allah had accepted the prayer of this blessed woman, whose mouth never tired of asking her Lord for her son’s health every day. And so today, praise be to Allah, the One who grants and takes, He had accepted her prayer. Little by little, she saw him begin to open his eyes.

She said loudly, “My prince.........”

She moved closer to him, shedding tears of joy, while he looked at her but could not recognize her. Then he began to close his eyes again, and at the same time his breathing began to go up and down. Quickly she rushed out of the room, screaming for the doctor in panic, calling at the top of her voice, “Doctor! Doctor!! Please come and save my child, he’s dying, please help him.........”

At the doorway of the room stood two very large guards, men with strong bodies, on duty. Seeing her come out in agitation, calling the doctor’s name, they quickly bowed in respect and said, “May Allah help you, princess, what is happening?”

But she did not even look at them, because at that moment she was not concerned with them. Her only desire was to see Dr. Bature or Dr. Ramu, who were her son’s doctors. Without wasting time, she returned with Dr. Bature, who was busy scolding the nurses following behind him for why they should keep so much distance from patients, especially in the prince’s condition, since at any time he might wake up and then try to relapse again. They kept apologizing and explaining themselves to him. He told them that if it happened again next time, they could very well lose their jobs over the prince, so they should be careful.

As they entered the room, they saw those guards had moved in front of the prince, looking at him with pity.

The princess said angrily, “Move aside and give people space. What can you do to him by crowding in front of him and staring? Go away immediately.....” That was not really how she was, but because of her son’s illness she had become a fiery woman toward everyone. Respectfully, they bowed to her again and left, praying for the prince’s recovery as always.

She turned her attention back to Dr. Bature, who bent slightly and placed one ear right over the prince’s heart, trying to confirm for himself whether he was breathing or not, because before they arrived his breathing, which had been going up and down, had suddenly stopped completely. He could not understand anything, so he used the stethoscope hanging around his neck.

“Doctor, is he dead?” she heard herself ask in a crying voice. He did not answer until he had confirmed solid information from the stethoscope.

He let out a breath and then said, “Your Highness, the prince is still alive. I guess he tried to return to life as usual, but his brain failed to bear the shock that was...”