Makwabtaka Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The next day, around ten in the morning, Umaimah came out again, heading to school. She was dressed in a black abaya and moving quickly because she had a test by eleven o’clock. As usual, at the gate she ran into her man, Abdul-Sabur, who was also heading out. He was wearing a neat suit. She had to look closely before she recognized him, because he had changed his appearance and looked even more handsome.

He smiled at her and greeted her, adding the name he thought was hers, “MAYE.”

Immediately, she felt offended. She glared at him and walked past without responding. He was surprised that a Muslim girl could be so cold-hearted, not even returning a greeting. It didn’t seem like it was only him she treated that way; from all indications, she did the same to other neighbors, judging by how she walked angrily without looking at anyone around her.

When he noticed that Dr. Faduwa had passed without exchanging greetings with her, he realized the issue was more serious than Dr. Faduwa. Perhaps Dr. Faduwa had tried once and seen there was no benefit, so she let it go. Otherwise, he knew how friendly she was—always cheerful and sociable, greeting people whether she knew them or not.

He stopped to greet Dr. Faduwa, and the three of them gathered at the roadside. Umaimah walked ahead, while the two of them followed behind, chatting in English.

Dr. Faduwa was a light-skinned Egyptian woman. Allah had perfected her creation so well that even among Arabs, you would have to search hard to find someone as beautiful as Faduwa. She wasn’t tall and had a slight fullness to her body, but it suited her perfectly. She had a long nose, large eyes, and soft hair that reached her thighs, though she constantly trimmed it. She was very stylish and dressed modestly in elegant Arab outfits. One look at her and you could tell she was a doctor—her profession suited her appearance.

NEIGHBORS 2

Umaimah climbed the stairs and crossed the bridge, while the other two waited by the roadside for a taxi. Abdul-Sabur was heading to his school, Inti College in Subang Jaya, while Dr. Faduwa was going to Sunway University. Since they were heading in the same direction, they would take one taxi; after dropping her off, it would continue with him.

Before long, they got a taxi. Both of them entered the back seat. After explaining their destinations to the driver, he turned on the meter immediately, counting their fare without any long bargaining—you could see your money increasing as you moved. The farther you went, the higher the fare.

Dr. Faduwa looked at Engineer Abdul-Sabur and said,

“That young girl is really arrogant. She doesn’t greet people, and she doesn’t respond when greeted. I thought it was because she saw us as foreigners, but now even you, her fellow Black person, she didn’t respond to. Honestly, I think it would be better for her to greet people, because in times of sickness or hardship, it’s your neighbors who help you first—especially since we are all Muslims and her brothers and sisters. What do you think, Abdul? Maybe speak to her in your language so she might understand.”

He gave a forced smile and replied,

“Who told you she understands my language? We’re not from the same country. Or did you think all Black people understand one another’s languages? There’s nothing I can do except pray that Allah helps her understand.”

They then changed the topic, because they weren’t used to gossip—sitting around talking badly about someone who wasn’t present. When they reached Dr. Faduwa’s school, Sunway University, she got down. She wanted to pay the fare, but Abdul-Sabur told her to leave it; he would pay everything. They exchanged farewells and wished each other well. She informed him that she wouldn’t be returning home that day, but the next, because they had examinations.

The driver drove off without stopping until they reached Inti Subang Jaya. The meter showed a fare of 35 ringgit, roughly equivalent to 1,700 naira. He paid and entered the school, where he was pursuing his master’s degree.

Nigerians are found in almost every university in Malaysia, especially private universities. Even in government universities, if you look closely, you’ll still find them everywhere. Some universities, when you step inside, you’d think you were in Abuja because of the number of Nigerians. Hausas and Igbos are the most common; even without being told, you’d know there would be plenty of familiar accents.

When security agencies—police and immigration—realized that not all of them were genuine students, that some had used shortcuts to obtain student visas without actually studying, arrests began day and night. Both genuine and fake students were arrested. For genuine students, their schools would come and claim them. But for those who weren’t actually students and weren’t registered anywhere, no one would come for them.

That meant prison awaited them—indefinitely. Malaysia is not like Saudi Arabia, where undocumented migrants are often deported free of charge. There, you might be deported today and return tomorrow if you could afford it. In Malaysia, they don’t spend even a cent to send you back. Unless your relatives come for you, you remain there.

Most—if not all—Hausas studying in Malaysia don’t face this problem. Anyone you see studying there is genuinely sponsored by their parents or local government. The real problem lies with some non-Hausa groups, who enter and remain without studying.

Jobs are hard to find, and there’s no heavy labor work to earn money. Some wash cars, while others get involved in dangerous businesses—drug trafficking. Once they enter that path, they either make quick money or, if caught, face the death penalty without mercy.