Inaya Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She rose slowly and walked toward the courtyard of their house, where she could hear her mother, her brothers, and her mother’s co-wife speaking in confused, distressed voices. Their agitation had been triggered by the terrible news that had just reached them.

Her own heart was far from calm. She was already burdened with worry over her husband, who had been hospitalized for the past two days after an accident on his way back from his younger brother’s wedding—the brother they shared both parents with.

Suddenly, as if her ears had been pulled open, she heard her eldest brother Umar speaking. But she couldn’t clearly understand what he had said. She needed to hear it properly.

She reached the doorway, drew aside the curtain, and stepped out, looking at them one after another. Her once-bright eyes had sunk deep into their sockets from days of worry.

They stared at her just as she stared at them. Each of their faces was filled with sorrow and pity for her. After all, losing a husband at her age was heartbreaking—especially with a child already in her womb.

She looked at her mother and saw her lowering her head, tears threatening to fall, unable to meet her daughter’s gaze.

So she turned directly to her mother’s co-wife and asked,

“Inna, why does everyone look like this?

Is everything alright?

What has happened?”

Then she turned to her brothers.

“Yaya Umar, Yaya Kabiru?

Why are you all silent like this?

Has Abdul’s father’s condition worsened?”

Kabiru let out a heavy sigh and straightened himself before looking at her with the restrained sorrow of a man trying to be strong.

“Khadija… after you left the hospital, Allah has completed Salisu’s time…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

She turned sharply toward him, her heart dropping, her voice trembling.

“But I just left him sleeping.

I was only going home to bathe and return to the hospital—

And now you’re saying he has died?

Just now?”

Quickly, Inna held her compassionately.

“Hadiza, don’t question Allah like that.

You must accept His will. Death is no child’s play…”

Her eyes turned red, tears threatening to fall, but her stubborn strength held them back.

“Inna, I left him asleep.

He was much better today.

They said he has died…

That means death—he’s gone forever.

How will I cope?”

Kabiru raised his voice slightly.

“Khadija, what is this?

We said Salisu has passed away.

Calm yourself and understand—death has nothing to do with ‘just now.’

Open your mind and accept what has happened.

Salisu is gone. He will never wake again.”

She stared at his mouth as he spoke. Her head spun. Her heart pounded violently, as if it would burst from her chest.

She looked at her mother again and saw the truth written clearly across her face.

Then she turned to Kabiru—she saw the same truth there too.

She swallowed painfully, her throat dry.

Without another word, she went into her mother’s room, picked up the long hijab she had removed earlier, and rushed out. She didn’t take her phone or transport money. She even slipped on one of her mother’s slippers without realizing it. She walked blindly toward the gate—she just needed to reach the hospital.

Inna quickly grabbed her own hijab and followed her, calling her name.

Their mother turned to Umar and said,

“Follow them. Give them transport money. I don’t think either of them took any.”

Umar hurried after them, caught up with them on the road, and handed Inna a thousand naira note.

“Here’s transport fare, Inna.

Please watch her closely. Don’t let her go to the hospital and start talking irrationally.

Tell her to trust in Allah.”

Inna quickly caught up with Hadiza, who was walking fast and trembling, and held her firmly just as a tricycle (keke napep) arrived. They got in immediately. Inna gave the driver the hospital’s name.

Khadija’s hands and legs shook uncontrollably.

The moment they arrived, before the tricycle even fully stopped, Khadija jumped out and rushed toward the emergency ward where Salisu had been.

From a distance, Salisu’s male and female relatives saw her coming in a frantic state, barely seeing where she was going. Their hearts shattered with renewed pity, and many of them broke into fresh sobs.

As she approached, she looked at them one by one and saw Salisu’s mother wailing uncontrollably. Half her body felt numb.

She ran into the room and found his body lying on the bed, covered with the bed sheet she had brought him that very morning.

She looked at his height, his outstretched hands.

Unable to believe it, she reached out and uncovered his face.

She was met with his beautiful Fulani features from Yola.

Her heart slammed painfully in her chest. Her eyes closed as she nearly collapsed, but Inna caught her. She couldn’t hear Inna calling her name—she felt herself fading.

Salisu’s mother rushed forward.

“Take her home before something worse happens—she’s pregnant!”

They tried to pull her away. She struggled inwardly, unwilling to leave his body, but she had no strength. Her mouth felt glued shut.

Still staring at her husband’s corpse, she was dragged outside and placed back into the tricycle with Inna and Salisu’s younger sister. They headed to Salisu’s parents’ house.

They hadn’t even fully entered the courtyard when she suddenly collapsed. Blood began flowing down her legs.

In panic, they rushed her into Salisu’s mother’s room. Inna kept calling her name frantically.

She was bleeding heavily. It was clear—the pregnancy had been lost. There was no doubt. They did not attempt to take her back to the hospital. Inna and an elderly relative helped her until the bleeding subsided somewhat.

Then the loud cries that filled the house announced the arrival of Salisu’s body.

Hearing it, she shut her eyes in unbearable pain. The remaining contents of her womb came out completely. A deep, heart-wrenching cry escaped her lips.

Inna moved closer, holding her gently as she wept with overwhelming grief.

She cried intensely—mourning her husband, the father of her child, and the unborn baby he had cherished so dearly.

Perhaps that was why Allah had placed such immense love for the pregnancy in his heart—they were destined to leave this world together.

She didn’t care about her condition. With difficulty, she stood up, went to the bathroom in her mother-in-law’s room, and washed herself, though her hands and legs trembled violently.

She came out, accepted the cloth Inna handed her, wrapped it around herself. Severe dizziness and abdominal pain crushed her, but she refused to sit.

Wearing her hijab, she walked into the courtyard. The entire house echoed with the cries of Salisu’s relatives.

She went to where his body was laid out for washing. She fell before him and began wailing, calling his name.

No matter how they tried to pull her away, they couldn’t. Her heart burned fiercely with grief for the husband she loved deeply—now gone, leaving her alone in a world where everyone seemed to care only for themselves.

What would become of her son Abdul? Who would stand firmly for him—either from her family or Salisu’s?

When it was time to wash and shroud his body, they finally managed to remove her from the room—especially as a heavy fever overtook her, and fresh bleeding started again. That was when everyone realized she had miscarried.

She was not taken to the hospital. Instead, she was laid in her room in the same house where she and Salisu had lived with his parents. The family was not wealthy—they had only one small room, a tiny sitting area, and a bathroom inside.

While she lay there battling pain and fever, they carried Salisu’s body to his final resting place.

They called Iya Fatu, their neighbor and traditional birth attendant. She examined Hadiza and confirmed that the pregnancy had completely miscarried.

A new wave of sorrow fell upon the household as they began caring for Hadiza.