Sakar Makafi Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

Abba let out a heavy sigh when he noticed Mahmoud had gone silent, clearly waiting for an answer. Softening his tone, he said:

“Disability refers to a person who has an impairment in a part of their body — like a leg, a hand, an eye, or an ear.”

With a trembling voice, Mahmoud said:

“Abba, does that mean anyone with something like that isn’t a complete human being?”

Quickly, Abba shook his head as if Mahmoud could see him.

“No, Mahmoud, he is a complete human being. It’s just that he doesn’t have a complete physical form, so he can be described as disabled because of that physical limitation.”

By now, Mahmoud’s voice was shaking badly.

“Then Abba, that means I too am disabled. I’m not a complete man. And my own disability is even worse than losing a hand, a leg, an eye, or an ear. Mine affects a man’s entire life. But Abba, I didn’t give this to myself, did I? Allah gave it to me. Even though I know I disobeyed Him before when I had my health…”

Calmly, Abba began shaking his head again.

“Stop, Mahmoud. Don’t say anything beyond ‘Allah gave it to me.’ It is a test, and by Allah’s will you will overcome it. Don’t say more than that. Be patient. Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.”

Ummi quietly sat beside Abba, understanding what Mahmoud was referring to. She sighed deeply.

Mahmoud quickly continued, his voice breaking:

“Abba, just because someone mocked me for not being healthy — saying I cannot father children and that I’m not a complete man — will never make me ungrateful to Allah. I thank Allah even in this state for giving me life and health. Allah alone knows how many people died from this illness while He left me alive, able to hear, see, and walk. Just because He disabled one part of me — and maybe losing it is even a blessing that prevents me from sinning — I will not cry or complain. My only problem is that you refused to accept what I said. You listened to Yah Amin when he spoke out of anger and involved me in something that could make me feel Allah shortchanged me in my creation.”

Deep in thought, Abba said:

“Mahmoud, you have wounded my heart. You’ve brought tears to my eyes. Where are you now?”

Softly, Mahmoud replied:

“Please, Abba, don’t cry for me. I’m in Kerala. I came to see Dr. Avinash.”

Gently, Abba asked:

“When are you coming back? Fariyda is worried. She told Amina she doesn’t know where you are. Zaid has been crying, calling your name. She said you didn’t tell her where you were going.”

Holding back his emotions, Mahmoud said:

“I’ll go tomorrow. I’ll also take Zaid to see Dr. Imran Patel again for a checkup.”

Softly, Abba prayed:

“May Allah bless you, protect you in this world and the Hereafter. May He preserve your children and bless them.”

In a subdued tone, Amin responded from there, and they ended the call.

Quickly, Ummi asked:

“Where is he? What did he say?”

Abba explained everything to her. Quietly she said:

“Now I’m convinced. Mahmoud has not recovered. He cannot live a married life. Since this issue started between them, we have no basis to keep them together.”

Brokenhearted, Abba said:

“So this is what Allah has decreed for my children. I repent to You, Allah. I have never been ungrateful. Some people never even have children at all.”

Ahmedabad

In a low voice, eyes filled with tears, she said to Amina:

“The driver said he dropped him at the airport, but he doesn’t know which flight he boarded. And since that day, they haven’t spoken.”

Ummi entered Goggo Dada’s room where Amina was sitting.

“Are you speaking with Fariyda?”

Amina quickly handed her the phone.

“Yes, Ummi. She hasn’t slept. Zaid is crying too.”

Fariyda broke down weakly, her voice shaking:

“Ummi, I don’t know where he went. He hasn’t returned. Zaid refuses to sleep — he keeps crying and calling him. I don’t know where he went. It’s just me and the children. I’m scared. I don’t even know where to look for him.”

Ummi watched her sobbing with tears streaming down her face and smiled gently.

“It’s okay, Fariyda. He just called your Abba. He’s fine, nothing happened to him—”

Her words caught in her throat when she heard Fariyda release a deep breath and whisper:

“Alhamdulillah.”

Amina laughed lightly.

“Then let me sleep peacefully. Take the children gently since we now know where Habibi always goes.”

Fariyda muttered under her breath after Ummi and Goggo Dada left:

“What does it have to do with me? Let him go wherever he wants. If he doesn’t want to return, let him wait until they search for him. It’s only because of Ummi and Abba that I’m unsettled. If Yah Amin also leaves — that stubborn troublemaker — Ummi’s heart will stop. And Zaid keeps disturbing me calling him. If he’s gone, they’ll become true orphans. That’s why I’m afraid of losing him.”

She quickly ended the call when Goggo Dada said:

“Oh, so you’re not worried about losing him?”

She lay down on the prayer mat beside Zaitoon, who had already fallen asleep.

Kano

The next morning, Ummi sat in the living room with Mamy. Aunty Amarya said:

“We wanted to come yesterday, but it got late. Saddiqa called — Zaitoon has been crying. They said Mahmoud hasn’t been seen for four days and they can’t reach him. She even feared people might accuse her of making him disappear.”

Amina laughed.

“Well, if he didn’t lose her, then she didn’t lose him.”

They chatted briefly before Dr. Nasir drove them away.

Ahmedabad

She glared at his suitcase, pulled it closer, and unzipped it.

“Shmhummm.”

She inhaled deeply — his perfume filled her senses. She began opening the inner boxes neatly arranged inside. His sleepwear, freshly washed and ironed, was carefully folded. She gently lifted them and placed them on a chair.

She separated a soft navy-blue short and matching top, pressed them to her face, inhaling their scent and softness.

“Wallahi, I’m taking these — whatever happens, happens.”

She opened another box — his boxers and singlets, clean and neatly arranged. Their scent was different — deeper, more intimate.

Another box contained his glasses, watch, ring, and two car keys.

She opened the next one — perfumes, body lotions, hair products — almost three of each — plus his comb still in its packet.

At the side was a small box containing his toothbrush and strawberry “One Family” toothpaste, and three unopened bars of expensive soap.

She opened the larger compartments — jeans, shirts, two jumpers, about three suits, another section with three-quarter trousers and their tops, and pajamas.

She returned everything carefully after removing two perfumes and leaving one.

“A person with order — everything in its proper place.”

She placed the clothes on the bed, took his bath products, and went to shower.

After Zuhr prayer, she lightly applied oil, tied her hair with a ribbon without braiding it, and wore his clothes.

She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The shirt hung loosely on her, while the shorts hugged her hips perfectly, stopping just above her knees. The neckline revealed her collarbones and chest subtly. She felt comfortable — the clothes felt good on her.

She sprayed his perfume a third time, unable to resist the scent.

Abba listened carefully as Ummi narrated how Mahmoud had been living with Fariyda — even from the time she stayed with Aminullah — their lack of harmony, their differences, and how things continued even after marriage.

After she fell silent, Abba exhaled heavily.

“You mean he has never eaten her food? He doesn’t talk to her? He doesn’t enter her room?”

Quietly she replied:

“Hmmm. That alone proves Mahmoud hasn’t recovered, despite what Aminullah thought. There is no woman in Mahmoud’s life. You know Mahmoud. If he were healthy, the story would have changed long ago. Even if he loves her, if he were fully healthy, one woman wouldn’t be enough for him — he might even have married a second by now, given his nature. And you heard from his own mouth the things Fariyda said to him. That confirms he’s still unwell. Keeping them married like this is injustice.”

Resolutely, Abba said:

“We must end this marriage just as we arranged it with Malam Ibrahim. When they return, I’ll make him write her divorce papers.”

Weakly, Ummi said:

“Though I don’t want to lose Fariyda, I must accept it since my son isn’t healthy — and the healthy one Allah took away. Truly, I’ve lost a daughter-in-law rare in this time. She became like my own daughter. Even if Mahmoud were healthy, finding someone like Fariyda today — when many wives dislike their in-laws — is difficult.”

She finished speaking as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ahmedabad.