Tantiriya A Gidan Yari Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Inside, another person, DanIndo, arrived with Dandaudu’s mother, telling her, “Close your mouth now, or else I’ll see you later. What did you do that brought you here, Dandaudu, you useless man?”

On each side, those present were condemned prisoners. Naila said, “I’ve been wrongly accused of murder.” DanIndo scoffed and said, “Wrongly accused? You did it deliberately—you had courage—but now you say it’s wrong? Never mind, we like courage like that. But by God, if you hadn’t been brought here, it wouldn’t have concerned us. We wouldn’t care about your child or Dandaudu. I almost killed you in this house, but since this is a murder case, this is fair. God willing, you’ll get out safely; you’ve been armed for the task, and I see you now—you’re a hired killer.”

DanIndo beat his chest again and said, “By God, the prison you see before me feels like a bedroom. And there are many like us, sons of your father Jamilu.” Naila opened her mouth in awe, marveling at God’s power. DanIndo explained that even children were in prison, each in groups, each group with a leader stronger than anyone else, who commanded the children and made them serve. In prison, only those stronger than you dominated; otherwise, you sat under others—this is the life of the condemned.

For Naila, when she was brought in, she saw people coming out with mobile phones, each doing their own activities. They had freedom—they could buy what they wanted to eat or drink, even smoke cigarettes. In the condemned section, they were allowed to do whatever they wanted. There were days for music and dancing in the hall, days when performers like Yan Solo would come and entertain them. Any kind of game or handcraft was allowed, Muslims had to attend religious school for Islamic and secular education, pregnant women had separate quarters—the world inside was divided. But those in the condemned section enjoyed life the most, because it was known they would never leave; entertainment was provided for them, even during the Prophet Muhammad’s birthday celebrations.

Naila kept watching the mischievous people, thinking to herself, “I must be fierce, Tantiriya. Here, my wild name Tantiriya will serve me well.” In the condemned section, even the prison staff avoided entering unless necessary—they could kill someone at any moment. The only rule was that those inside the condemned section stayed there; if someone was killed, the government didn’t intervene. Even those with influence and money could be released without anyone knowing.

Tantiriya (Naila) noticed that people were staring at her, so she moved to another room with some teachers where destiny had placed her. There were five in the room, and she saw they feared God, so they wouldn’t harm her. She didn’t like interacting with men. The teachers, when they looked at Naila, thought she was male, Dandaudu. She greeted in a voice she had to adapt to masculinity, yet it still sounded somewhat feminine. She led the teachers, and anyone who looked at Jamilu Terror felt weak, while simultaneously feeling affection for Dandaudu. All of them were affected. They didn’t calm down until Naila spoke.

The head teacher, probably around fifty, felt fear in his heart and muttered silently, “God, I repent, I’m falling in love with Dandaudu. God, deliver me.” Teacher Jilani also looked at Jamilu Terror and smiled; he felt a sudden melting love for Dandaudu. Teacher Usama couldn’t even meet Dandaudu’s gaze, while Naila laughed quietly to herself. She moved a strong bed aside, laying it at the end of the wall to rest.

The head teacher, Sharu, whispered to his colleague, Teacher Usama, calming his heart, saying, “At least you feel the trial that wants to confront me. Look at Dandaudu—he captivates me. I watched him, and my heart raced with love for this young man, my own child, my brother. Pray to God.” Usama whispered, “I feel the same.” They quickly pressed their lips with their hands, saying this is a test from God—they must dedicate themselves to prayer.

Naila exchanged glances with Teacher Jilani and smiled. Jilani pressed his chest, falling into the group. Teacher Sharu whispered quietly, “She smiled at me—I feel love.” He considered leaving the room, while Alaramma Garzali stole glances at Naila, lowering his head. Naila raised one eyebrow and gave him a look, and his heart began pounding. He looked at his legs in surprise, feeling as though he was embracing Jamilu Terror. He got up and left the room, silently praying, drenched in sweat.