Sanadin Boko Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

I listened to all the conversations each of them was having; the bus was filled with chatter. Some were happy about seeing their parents, others were talking about their weddings. Most of them were discussing the schools they would continue their education in—some said polytechnic, some university, others nursing school.

Sa’adatu, who was sitting close to me, said, “Hafsy, please you too should come to A.B.U. Zaria so we can be together.”

I gave a small, helpless smile.

“Getting into A.B.U. isn’t like entering Bakori,” I said, “because even if I apply, there’s no guarantee I’ll be allowed.”

She widened her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re among those who will be stopped because of marriage?”

I sighed deeply again.

“Sa’a, just pray for me. May Allah make it my destiny, because I truly want to see the end of my education.”

Jamila looked at me and said, “Hafsy, you always amaze me whenever you say you’ll finish school. Let me tell you—school might be the one that finishes you. Has anyone told you it’s waiting for you?”

I replied, “Madam, I didn’t ask for your opinion. What’s it to you? Aren’t you the one talking about marriage?”

Jamila said, “Marriage, insha Allah, doesn’t stop education. I’ll get married and continue my studies.”

Sa’a said, “It’s only one hardship you’ll choose, because once you get pregnant, you’ll abandon school.”

I said, “How many people has that happened to? As for me, we’ve just started with education.”

She said, “Alright then, may Allah help everyone according to their good intentions.”

I replied, “That’s all you should say—amen.”

As the journey continued, everywhere became quiet. As for me, I was worried about my father. I knew that without Allah’s intervention, it would be difficult for me to attend another school.

The Zaria students were dropped off, then we Kaduna students continued our journey. The school bus from Bakori, Katsina, was the one that picked us up and took us to our homes after we had said goodbye to the school—meaning we were done.

Our house was filled with people. The children were shouting happily, “Hafsat is here! Hafsat is here!”

Our mother ran out and hugged me tightly while I laughed. The almajirai who brought my luggage dropped it down, and I said, “Inna, give them fifty.” She loosened the knot of her wrapper and handed the money to them.

The children of the house helped carry my things into the room. The women in the house kept welcoming me, and I responded to each greeting.

Inna placed a bowl in front of me and said, “The alala has cooled down.” She handed me a cup of water, and I said, “Is it still not finished?”

She replied, “It’s finished for us. A few days ago, your uncle Bako came and told me that you would be done soon. Every day I kept setting aside the alala, only giving it to the children after sunset.”

I laughed and said, “That’s our Inna! Where is Brother Ummar?”

She replied, “He hasn’t returned since morning. You know, after the inheritance sharing we had, your uncle Bako brought me the money and I told him to buy a motorcycle for him. Since he’s always idle and the electricity repair work doesn’t come regularly, I’m struggling with his younger siblings and also struggling with him.”