Sangartacce Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She began yawning where she sat, and that made them all breathe a sigh of relief. The wife of the house, whom they called Umma, stood up and looked at Bilkisu’s mother and said, “It’s already twelve o’clock. Let me go and start cooking, Amina.”

She glanced at all the children, who were all staring at Bilkisu sitting there and yawning, and she said, “Well then, shouldn’t someone get up and go help Umma with the work?”

Raiyana, who came after Bilkisu in age and was fifteen years old, removed her hijab and handed it to Layla, the youngest, who was eight years old, saying, “Ungo, take this to the room for me.”

Layla took it and went to their room to drop it off, then came back out, and the two of them went into the kitchen. Umma set Raiyana to pounding, while Layla was told to light the fire.

Umma then left the kitchen for the courtyard to start pounding the tuwo.

Layla, who was blowing on the fire, turned and looked at Raiyana, who was pounding. She put down the fan she was using, came close to Raiyana as if she were about to cry, and said, “Aunty Raiyana, why won’t Baba take Aunty Baby to the hospital? You know even today in our school we were taught Primary Science, and they said if something grows big inside your body and starts moving, they do an operation. I swear. But Baba is just reading over her, making her drink and cooking herbs for her. Why won’t he say they should go to the hospital?”

As she spoke, Raiyana stopped pounding and just looked at her. Then Umma entered the kitchen, looked at them, and said, “What is all this talking? Didn’t I give you work to do?”

Layla opened her mouth to speak, but Raiyana shook her head at her, so she kept quiet and went back to the fireplace to continue fanning it. Umma took what she had come to get and left the kitchen. Then Raiyana came back near the fireplace, crouched down, and said, “Don’t ever say that again. Baba doesn’t believe in hospital medicine, and if he hears you, you know what will happen. Don’t say it again, do you hear?”

Slowly, Layla nodded her head, and each of them continued with the work they had been given.

Around half past twelve, she woke up with a start and sat up. Mama, who was sitting beside her stirring fura for the malam, looked at her and asked, “How is your stomach?”

She walked toward their room, lifted the curtain, looked at the clock, then looked at Mama and said, “Mama, I’m already late for school, and you people didn’t wake me!”

She pouted and walked to the well, picked up a bucket, and was about to draw water. Mama clicked her tongue and continued stirring the fura.

In a rush, she went and bathed, then came out with a wrapper tied around her chest and hurried into the room. She entered their main room, which was neatly arranged. There was only a simple bed and a floor covering spread out. She crouched down, pulled her Ghana-must-go bag from under the bed, opened it, and took out her school clothes, which were neatly folded inside.

She first put on her long purple trousers, then wore the white gown-like school uniform that reached her knees, her face tightening slightly because of how her stomach was still hurting her little by little now, though not like before.

She went to the mirror, applied white powder, and put on eyeliner. She dabbed Vaseline on her pink-and-black lips. The middle of her lips was very pink, while the edges were dark, as though she were wearing lipstick, and they were so naturally well-shaped, beautiful, and sexy. If you looked at them, they looked almost like fresh meat.

She went back to the bed and wore her white hijab, which fell below her knees. Then she pushed the Ghana-must-go bag back under the bed, took her small school bag with her books inside, came out, and sat on the doorstep trying to put on her socks and school shoes.

Just as Umma was coming out of the kitchen, she said, “Baby, when did you get well enough to go to this Qur’anic and Western school of yours?”

Bilkisu gave a little smile that revealed her beauty spot and said, “Umma, come on now, I’m fine, wallahi. And besides, I’m the class monitor. The chalk is with me, so I have to take it.”

Umma held her mouth and said, “Listen to her—class monitor indeed!”

Bilkisu burst into laughter and even threw herself onto Mama, who was sitting on a mat, saying, “They say ‘monitor,’ and you’re saying ‘manito,’ Umma,” and she kept laughing as if she was not the same person who had been crying out in pain a while ago.

Mama lightly knocked her on the head and said, “Get off me before I pour this fura all over that school uniform of yours.”

Slowly, as if she was about to cry, she got up and sat beside her. Umma untied the knot in her wrapper, brought out fifty naira, and handed it to her, saying, “Here, use this to take a ride. From Fillin Mallawa to Dogon Bauchi is very far, and you are not well.”

She took it happily and said, “Thank you, Umma. May Allah keep you for me.”

Then she moved closer to Mama, looking at the fura as if she was about to cry, and said, “Mama, please just give me a little. You can see lunch is not ready yet. I can’t go to school hungry like this.”

Mama glared at her and said, “Greedy girl.”

She laughed and replied, “Yes, I heard you, Mama. Just give me a little.”

Quickly, she ran into the room and brought back a small plastic cup. Mama poured some for her, just enough. She drank it all down, even sticking her finger into the cup to scrape out the last drops and lick it clean. Then she set the cup down, wiped her mouth, and said, “Thank you, Mama. I’m going now.”

Quickly, she grabbed her bag and peeped into the kitchen, where Raiyana and the others were serving the tuwo, and said, “I’m going now.”

Together, they all prayed for her. Mama then said, “What about your prayer?”

“I’ll pray at school, Mama.”

She opened the door, stepped out briskly, and left.