Rashin Haihuwa Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

That night, I went to bed filled with pain and sadness. Honestly, I did not expect Salees to follow me with any comfort, because I knew he wouldn’t. Often, I find myself wondering how my married life suddenly changed—from a happy marriage full of love and affection to a situation I can hardly put into words.

Still, it wasn’t surprising when you consider the kind of defect people see in me. It’s not a deformity or illness, but the absence of a blessing that Allah gives to some of His servants and withholds from others—not out of hatred, but to test the strength of our faith. If one has never gone through such a situation, it is very difficult to understand this test, because it is not easy at all. It is deeply painful and emotionally draining.

In the morning, when I woke up, I didn’t skip my usual routine since I’m used to cooking. I quickly prepared breakfast and set it on the table, packed Ilham’s food for school, then returned to the room to get ready for work. I did everything in a rush because I was late, having failed to sleep early due to the bitterness caused by Salees and Mariya.

After making sure my outfit and scarf were well arranged, I sprayed a light perfume—one you wouldn’t notice unless you stood very close to me—and stepped out. I met them sitting at the table, cheerful and chatting. Anyone who saw them would think they were a couple enjoying a sweet married life, unlike me, whose marriage was filled with sadness, resentment, and repeated heartbreak.

I pushed my worries aside, swallowed my pain, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

“Good morning, my love. I hope you woke up well.”

I said this while kissing his lips and then his forehead, before turning to Mariya.

“Good morning, Ilham’s mother. I hope you slept well.”

Even though I noticed her mood change when I kissed Salees, she quickly brushed it off, replacing the tension on her face with a broad smile and a small laugh as she replied,

“We’re fine, Aunty of the children. I hope you are too.”

“Alhamdulillah.”

“Ehm, please forgive what happened yesterday. Children’s matters can confuse someone, but I didn’t bring Amir with any bad intention. You know, with child upbringing—if you’ve never experienced it, you won’t understand. Even when Umma used to tell me about babies who cry at night, I didn’t believe her until I gave birth myself. But don’t worry—you’ll understand soon when you have your own child.”

While she was talking, I was already busy serving food. As I sat down, I served Salees. I didn’t look up, even though I heard everything she said. I wasn’t surprised by her words, because I had long understood where she was headed—and I knew she was capable of even worse.

I forced a smile onto my face, lifted my head, and looked at her.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Ilham’s mother. Don’t worry.”

We started eating. She kept talking to Salees, chatting about Amir and Ilham, and he followed along. It was obvious how deeply he loved his children and cared about everything concerning them. That was exactly what gave Mariya the chance to oppress me, just as she had planned from the birth of Ilham up to now with Amir.

I wiped my mouth with a tissue and stood up just as Ilham came out of her mother’s room, carrying her school bag and heading to school. From the moment she appeared, I looked at her once and then looked away without turning back, even though I really wanted to.

Allah knows how much I love Ilham, especially because she resembles Salees so much, as if he molded her himself. Her cheerful, talkative nature makes her loved by everyone, including me. But I’ve forced myself to suppress my feelings since an incident that once occurred.

“Good morning, Daddy. Good morning, Mommy,”

Ilham greeted her parents without looking at me. I didn’t mind. I adjusted my veil, picked up my handbag, and looked at Salees.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be back later.”

“No, wait. Take the baby to school today. I won’t be leaving early.”