Mage Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel By Sajida

She was smiling as she watched how royalty had embraced her son, how kingship was gradually adding a certain calmness and dignity to him. Softly she said, “May Allah protect your front, may He protect your back, protect you in your resting place, and raise you up by Himself. May Allah bless you.”

He closed his eyes, savoring the sweetness of his mother’s prayer for him. When she finished, he turned back, bowed his head again, and said, “Ameen, Anmy.”

With a graceful air of nobility, he left his mother’s wing and went straight to the large study room where he and his close associates usually spent the night in study and private matters. Among them were his maternal cousins and the Chief Imam of the palace.

She stopped at a large food outlet and bought about ten boxes of pizza, paying fifty thousand naira in cash, which was placed into her car.

After driving off, she arrived home. The gatekeeper opened the gate for her, and she drove inside. She called one of the housemaids to help her carry the pizzas to their section of the house where her sisters were.

After unloading everything and locking her car, she walked into their living room, playfully swinging the small nylon bag in her hand.

She suddenly stopped when she saw her siblings in their section. Her sisters and brothers had already bathed and changed into their nightwear.

With a lazy smile, she stepped in and said, “Ah, what are you all doing sitting like this?”

They all looked at her, and seeing that she was trying to act innocent, her sister Umakhulsum shook her head and said, “Of course you’d say that, Najeeba. Of course! You’re the one who knows how to wrap trouble in a scarf and act innocent!”

Quickly, NAJEEBA replied, “So what?”

Another sister, Zahrau, who was the calmest among them, said, “So now, Najeeba, you can even raise your hand and slap me? And you know very well that if not for Barinki, it wouldn’t have ended like that. Even if Anmy had planned a way for you to retaliate, he would have dealt you a harsh punishment for slapping the king’s wife!”

DAYABU quickly raised one hand and clenched it, saying, “By Allah, if she weren’t our tested sister, I swear I would have dealt with her myself! Najeeba, in front of the king, you slapped his wife just because you’re his mother’s niece?”

She held her forehead as she walked further inside. After sitting down and looking at them, she said, “So what’s my punishment? Are you all going to beat me now or what?”

Their elder brother stood up angrily and moved toward her. Quickly, she covered her face—the one place she didn’t want touched that day.

He reached her, raised his hand, hesitated, and tried to pull her hands away, but she kept pressing herself against him, making it difficult. Frustrated, he released her and sat down, breathing heavily.

“You little wrestling expert,” he muttered. “You’re lucky your face was covered. Today I would have left the mark of my hand on you.”

Najeeba’s younger sister, laughing, said, “Listen to him! As if he would really beat her hard. The moment you catch her, you’ll just start scolding and advising her.”

He turned to her, eyes wide, and said, “You see this one they call Gimbiya? She has no manners. Once she starts talking, she exaggerates everything. Let her try slapping the king’s wife again and see what I’ll do!”

They all smiled, but NAJEEBA frowned, pouting as if they had all ganged up against her.

After warning her seriously not to ever insult the king again, she lifted her head and said, “So I should just leave her? Do you know what she said to me? She said, ‘Move aside, you poor girl.’”

Umulkhair’s eyes widened immediately. “On my father’s honor! That’s why I wanted to go and hear what happened before she slapped you. So she insulted our parents?”

Their elder brother fell silent, anger flickering in his eyes.

Zahra said, “You did the right thing. If her father killed us, so what!”

Those who had been warning her moments ago suddenly changed sides, saying that even if it were them, they would have retaliated too. They began imagining what they would do if anyone dared to kill them. Their elder brother simply sat there, resting his chin on his hand, looking at his younger siblings. Out of all of them, only two were boys; the remaining fifteen were girls, and none of them was married yet.

He sighed deeply, pulled the pizza boxes closer, opened them, divided each box into two, and handed the pieces to the younger children. Then he gave the older ones one each, including NAJEEBA. They began eating and chatting.

After they finished, their youngest sister, Lalla—who was not yet six years old—walked over and curled up against him, yawning.

Softly she asked, “Brother Dayabu, where is Abih?”

He gently stroked her beautifully braided hair, which NAJEEBA had neatly plaited into tiny braids earlier. He didn’t answer.

About five minutes later, she fell asleep. He sighed again and looked at Zahrau, who was watching him. Lowering his voice, he said, “Zahra, let her sleep in your room tonight, please. Take care of her for me. You know Abih is angry with all of us today. He didn’t even ask about her.”

She nodded and stood up, her phone ringing—it was her boyfriend, the one officially approved for her. She carried her little sister to her room.

After laying her down, she adjusted her braids so they wouldn’t disturb her sleep. She prayed over her for protection, then watched her quietly.

In her heart she whispered, “If only Abih would bring your mother back… so you could wake up feeling your mother’s warmth against you… so you could live like every other little girl your age.”