Maimoon Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Three months later, everything was completed. All the items that were ordered arrived and were installed. I went in to inspect everything, then I wrote another list of the remaining things I still needed. Daddy collected it and said he also wanted to be included in the expenses. It didn’t take long before all the items were delivered completely.

It was Brother Walid who organized an opening party for me within the hospital premises. Almost all the relatives came; even Hafsat and Zayed attended with their three beautiful children, who looked almost the same age. There too, Sultan put her on the spot jokingly, teasing that despite how fast she ran, we had finally caught her—she had three children and we also had three. She shot him a glare and said, “Are you looking for trouble with me? I don’t have time for you. Besides, I don’t bother myself with my younger siblings.” She has now also gotten a job at the same hospital where Zayed works.

We didn’t leave until around midnight because the chatting just wouldn’t end. When we got home, I bathed the children; even Al’ameen, who was with us—we had taken him to the party and it was already late, so we didn’t return him to Ummee. I dressed them neatly and they fell asleep immediately from exhaustion. I sat by the edge of the bed watching them; they all looked so much alike. Honestly, to my eyes, there are no children in the world as beautiful as mine. Then a thought crossed my mind.

Sultan came in, greeting softly. I signaled to him to be quiet so he wouldn’t wake them. He came closer and sat beside me, also looking at them. He said, “Hmmm, they are beautiful, aren’t they?”

I replied, “They are perfect.”

I stood up and began massaging his shoulders and neck. He sighed deeply and rested his head against me. I said, “Sweetheart, what tribe do these children belong to?”

He frowned slightly while looking at them and said, “I don’t know. Who even knows? What does tribe even mean anyway? And what’s its usefulness?”

I said, “Nothing—it has no use except to divide the minds of Muslim communities. People fail to understand one thing: we are stronger if we stand together, but if we divide ourselves, we fall easily. Now look at these children—they have Hausa, Arab, Fulani, and Buzaye blood. So what tribe are they? In truth, they have no tribe, yet anyone who looks at them knows they are perfect. To me, it’s their mixed background that brought about their perfection. And it’s not just them—any child born from a marriage between two different tribes, if we observe carefully, we’ll see that the child is more beautiful than both tribes. That’s why all over the world, half-castes are considered the most beautiful. Could this not be a way God is showing us that if we unite as one, we’ll live a better life than if we divide ourselves?”

Sultan pulled me and we fell onto the bed. He turned and pinned me beneath him and said, “Repeat what you said about half-castes.”

I smiled, caressing his face, and said, “You are the most handsome person in the world. You are more handsome than any man I’ve ever seen—neither Arabs nor Europeans nor Africans of any tribe come close to you.”

Smiling, he said, “I don’t believe that theory, Miss Psychologist, because I know I’m not as beautiful as you.”

I said, “Believe me, Sultan, you’re more beautiful than me. I’m a woman and you’re a man. The most amazing thing is your skin—I love it.” I said this as I slipped my hand into his shirt, caressing the muscles that had fascinated me from the first moment I saw him.

He turned his face, looking at the children sleeping beside us, then lifted me and carried me, saying, “Let’s go to my room so you can repeat what you said and see what I’ll do to you.”

We both left laughing.