Tantiriya A Gidan Yari Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

The next day, Khadija (also known as Mero) returned and went back to the room whose wall she had been trying hard to break through. As she got close, she heard the sound of someone sobbing from inside. Today she also heard another voice near him, consoling him. He was saying, “She was the one I was going to marry, but she died and left me.”

Mero’s eyes widened. She held her chest with both hands and said, “So he even had someone he planned to marry? She died too? May God have mercy on her soul. When our own time comes, may we die in faith. So this is why he’s crying like a woman because of love. If not for necessity, what would a rich man be crying for? At the slightest thing he cries—he has no endurance for hardship. But a poor person is used to all kinds of destiny.”

Unable to hold herself back, she raised her voice and asked, “So was she burned in the fire?”

Those inside his room thought it was a spirit speaking. Fear gripped them, because in all their lives they had never heard someone speak from behind a wall—especially not a woman.

One of the young men replied, “Yes, the fire burned her too.”

Mero said, “Speak louder, I didn’t hear!”

He sighed tiredly and said loudly, “Yes, she was burned in the fire.”

Mero said, “May God have mercy on her. May she die a martyr.”

The men stood up and left—they couldn’t believe they were speaking to a real person.

Khadija continued talking: “Have you finished crying?” He ignored her, so she left him alone and returned to working on the wall. Today she finally succeeded in breaking through enough for two fingers to pass through the crack. She pressed one eye to it and peeped inside. She saw the room and thought, “So this is the VIP room? It looks more like a prison cell.”

Meanwhile, Wahida’s mother had now gotten used to prison life. She had settled in comfortably in the VIP section. Her family visited often, and she had no problems. Wealthy people didn’t really suffer there. She didn’t get involved with anyone—if you weren’t in the VIP section, she assumed you had no status and she wouldn’t bother with you.

Mero didn’t know that Wahida’s mother was actually Mima’s younger sister. She only noticed that she resembled Mummy, and she wondered about it. Today, unable to hold back, she went to meet her where she sat resting.

Mero greeted her. She wore an old lace blouse and skirt given to her by Azima, who herself rarely wore trousers. Seeing Mero in ragged clothes, Wahida’s mother reluctantly looked up and said, “How did this happen? You’re lucky I even answered your greeting. You greeted me, and I replied.”

Khadija said, “I didn’t snatch your greeting. I only said good afternoon. You resemble someone called Mummy Spark.”

Wahida’s mother quickly looked at her and asked, “Where do you know them from? She’s my sister—we share the same parents.”

Khadija replied, “Mima, Rafeeq, Misam—I know all of them.”

Only then did the woman say, “Sit down.”

Khadija said, “Since you know I know your relatives, I’m not wealthy. I used to clean and do chores in Mummy Spark’s house. And recently Spark himself came to me.”

Wahida’s mother asked, “Spark came to you?”

Mero said, “He doesn’t have any problem—he gives me money and everything. But to me he’s like a son. He hasn’t come to greet me.”

She added, “Maybe you offended him. People like you just need prayers. Soon your sister will come and you’ll meet again. You’ll see Mummy Spark here in this prison soon.”

Wahida’s mother exclaimed, “Who did she kill? Don’t bring trouble to our family!”

Azima then came out swaying and said, “Khadija, aren’t you going to the bath today?”

Khadija replied, “I’m going. Let’s go.”

She stood up and followed Azima.

On the way, Mero said, “Azima, I’m struggling to understand all this learning. You know I’m a village girl. I’m better with religious knowledge. So this is how ritual purification is done? I’ve been confused all this time without knowing. I only learned yesterday.”

Azima laughed and said, “Honestly, Khadija, you’re ignorant.”

Mero replied, “Very ignorant. Look at me—I have a good, respectable name, but I didn’t inherit the status that comes with it. My parents wronged me. Now I’m learning in prison. Imagine—I’m gaining education here and becoming a city girl.”

Azima said, “Well, now you’re becoming a city girl. I’ll polish you properly. You still haven’t lost your shamelessness though. Please learn and complete your prison ‘training.’ Look at me—if I leave this prison and any man marries me, he’ll only be marrying trouble. That’s why I don’t even want to leave. Let them say I got married, but no one will be able to control or stop me.”