Karfe A Wuta Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The living room was dead silent; not a single sound could be heard except the hum of the air conditioner.

The people standing in the room were clustered together, as if waiting for a verdict.

A young woman was kneeling on her knees, her face filled with deep distress and anxiety, her cheeks soaked with tears.

“So this is the outcome you’ve decided for me? Is this the kind of result I deserve from you?”

With bitterness, an older woman said, “What kind of outcome were you expecting from a stray cat? A stray can never become a house cat. I warned you years ago, but you refused to listen. Now she’s shown you that she’s a scorpion’s child.”

The young woman wiped the sweat trickling down her face. Deep inside, she felt no regret over what was happening. Out loud, she said calmly,

“It’s not a bad outcome. It’s exactly what you raised me to be. I’m standing by the truth you taught me. I have no intention of harming anyone in this house. Everyone is simply doing their job. I deserve fairness. Don’t support him and paint me as the liar—let me do my own work too.”

The woman shouted angrily, “So now you’re claiming there’s truth in—”

The old man raised his hand to stop her and said, “That’s enough. Get up and leave. I don’t even want to see you. Go and do whatever you think is right.”

In a weak, trembling voice she asked, “Abba, you don’t want to see me?”

“Yes,” he replied. “If you want to avoid my anger and displeasure, you must give your brother full cooperation so he can carry out his work properly.”

In severe distress she said, “But Abba, what about my own future? You should hear my side—”

He didn’t wait to hear the rest. He turned and walked out of the living room. In panic, she grabbed his leg and burst into tears.

“Oh my father, what is left for me in this world if I live while you are angry with me? Please forgive me. I’ll do whatever you say, God willing.”

Tears streamed down her face as regret and sorrow overwhelmed her. She sobbed uncontrollably, almost fainting, but he shook his leg free and walked away.

As he left the living room, it felt as if the others there were about to tear her apart alive. They all rushed at her with chatter and accusations, each saying something different.

She stood up, wiped her tears, and with a look of indifference, walked out through another route, silently telling them to deal with themselves.

She entered her room, opened a drawer, took out some documents, and spread them on the bed. She turned on her laptop, which had been charging beside the bed, and at the same time picked up her phone and began pressing it.

Sensing someone behind her, she turned around quickly.

She saw him standing by the door, his face completely devoid of warmth or cheer.

She refocused and was about to continue using her phone when he walked up to her, stopped, looked her over, and said,

“So, are you ready to carry out what you were ordered to do?”

She cut him off sharply, saying, “I never said I was ready—and I will never be ready. From now till eternity, get out and leave me alone.”

He stared at her in shock. “So all that crying earlier—was it all an act?”

Angrily she replied, “What business is it of yours? Whether the tears were real or fake, do your job and let me do mine. Don’t ever try to interfere with my work again. If you do, anything can happen. I swear I won’t abandon what I’ve set my mind on. And if you keep pressuring me, I’ll shock you.”

He grabbed her and lifted her off the bed, saying, “What will happen? What kind of shock will you give me? Tell me. Are you even sane? You know the law, yet you trample on it as you wish. What exactly makes you so confident?”

“The law? I’m only testing its limits. You, on the other hand, are trying to abuse it. Leave me alone—I have nothing to do with you. Do your work and I’ll do mine. Whoever wins, wins. If you like, go and tell Abba everything you want about me. I swear there’s no retreat and no turning back. I didn’t start this expecting to quit without success.”

He shoved her back onto the bed, breathing heavily, his heart burning with rage. He glared at her fiercely, then rushed out of the room. If he stayed any longer, he might do something far worse.

She struggled to sit up, panting, staring at the door he had exited through.

She stood beside a building, staring across the courthouse compound.

The number of big and small vehicles filling the premises confirmed to her that major cases would be heard today.

She kept checking her wristwatch and watching the gate into the courthouse.

A prison vehicle entered and parked. Not long after, a sleek black car also drove into the compound.

About ten minutes after parking, the car door was opened and a woman stepped out, dressed in a coat.

People in the compound rushed toward her. Some collected her handbag, others spoke to her respectfully, full of admiration.

“O Allah, You alone are God, the All-Powerful without equal, the Lord who has no beginning and no end. You know these people are stronger than me in every way, but You are my reliance. I know You will not disgrace me. They are stronger than me, but You are stronger than them. O Allah, grant me Your divine intervention in this case. Let the light of truth wipe away the darkness of lies. Even though I have supporters, it is Your support that I truly need.”

She stood for a long time, reciting prayers and glorifying God.

Softly she murmured, “What a hectic trial. O Lord, see me through.”

Calmly, she adjusted her high heels and walked toward the courtroom entrance with a confident, commanding stride. Her lawyer’s attire suited her perfectly. As she approached the door, her heart pounded intensely, praying Allah would take control of her case.

Kano State Filling Station

Ten minutes to ten at night.

He was driving fast because the passenger he picked up kept pressuring him. No matter how fast he drove, she kept complaining and urging him to go faster.

From her appearance—dressed in black material, her face fully made up—you could tell she was coming from a wedding.

She looked at her wristwatch, on the verge of tears, and said, “Napep driver, for God’s sake, hurry up!”

He replied, “Please, Hajiya, how do you expect me to go faster? I’m already speeding. Please be patient; let’s take it easy.”

Angrily she said, “I don’t understand this ‘your mother’ talk. What kind of insult is that? Do I look like an old woman to you?”

He smiled and said, “No, women are mothers wherever they are—”

She cut him off sharply. “And did they say I’ve given birth to someone like you? I should be allowed to give birth first! If I’ve already given birth to someone like you, then my life is over. Don’t even call me your sister, let alone your mother. Just drive faster. Tonight I know my death sentence is sealed—they’ll finish me with trouble at home. Useless work! Bridesmaids are suffering. We’ve finished the stress of escorting the bride to her house, and now we’re still struggling on the road. May Allah give us our own time too—husband and car.”