Tsaka Mai Wuya Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

With great difficulty, the people surrounding us managed to pry Sahura’s hands away from my neck.

But before they succeeded in freeing me, she had already strangled me hard. She truly meant it—both in her heart and in the words pouring from her mouth—that she would kill me.

Even after they forced her to release me, she lunged again and grabbed my neck once more. She was serious. She wanted me dead. My body had gone completely cold—I couldn’t even move. Adda Fati and Ramatu were the ones pulling me away, trying to save me.

But I couldn’t even help them defend me.

Before long, our house was packed with neighbors—men, married women, and young men. Everyone was talking at once, reacting to what was happening.

Even if no one explained it, the insults and vile curses Sahura was hurling at me were enough for anyone to understand the situation.

Sahura had gone mad—or perhaps she had completely lost her senses. She screamed and struggled wildly, spewing every ugly word and evil wish she could think of against me.

They tried and tried to drag her out of our house, but it failed—her younger siblings couldn’t manage her. They had to call others from her family home. Soon they arrived, including some of Salisu’s relatives.

One woman—who seemed to be like an aunt to Sahura—slapped her hard twice across the face. Only then did Sahura regain some sense. She collapsed onto the ground, sobbing deeply from the pit of her heart.

The woman scolded her angrily:

“So you’ve lost your mind and I didn’t know, Sahura? Your husband is in the hospital between life and death, and you’re here behaving foolishly?

If Salisu dies today, the only one who loses is you. You’ll become a widow, and your children will become orphans!”

Her words sent chills through everyone—including me, standing there in the middle of it all.

Sahura’s body went limp. She began crying quietly.

The woman ordered the others to lift her up and said sternly:

“Let’s go home, Sahura. Your husband needs prayers—not this chaos. You’re shouting that you’ll kill her—what if you say that in front of the police? What if you actually kill her? Do you know you would be killed too?”

Sahura couldn’t reply—she only cried.

Then Zaliha, one of Salisu’s younger female relatives, clicked her tongue and said bitterly:

“Wouldn’t it be better if she killed this evil thing? What did Salisu ever see in this useless girl that made him refuse to rest until he married her?”

She pointed at me from head to toe before continuing:

“We warned Salisu over and over to forget about this girl, but he refused! The girl whose own parents were forced to live with her from birth because she brought trouble to them. She destroyed her first marriage and scattered her husband and his family—and knowing all that, you still chose to marry her? This is not something ordinary!”

Another woman added:

“Maybe it’s her fair skin that bewitched them. Or her skinny body? I see nothing attractive about her—only stubbornness and trouble!”

After their words, I looked down at myself.

Everything they said was true. I wasn’t beautiful—except for my fair skin. I didn’t even have the curves men admire. I was very slim—so thin it felt like I could be blown away by the wind.

They continued saying hurtful things while Adda Fati and the women from our house tried to calm them.

After about an hour, their noisy group finally left. The house fell silent, except for faint murmurs here and there.

I turned and walked slowly toward Amma’s room, my steps heavy with despair. No matter how shaken I am, Amma is always the first person I turn to in moments like this.

When I entered the room, darkness swallowed my vision. In such chaos, who would remember to switch on the small rechargeable lamp Adda Fati bought for us? Our room was just a small single space. Even in the darkness, I knew where Amma’s mattress was.

But when I reached it, my knees weakened.

I heard Amma’s labored breathing and the shivering cold mixed with the sound of her teeth chattering.

Panicking, I began feeling for her with both hands.

“Amma! Amma!”

At the sound of my voice, she lifted her head from where it had been bent toward her chest. She reached out one hand toward me. By Allah’s will, I found her hand in mine.

I froze when I felt how hot her hand was—its heat mixing with the coldness of mine.

My voice and body trembling, forgetting my own troubles, I cried out:

“Amma, has your illness worsened?

Let’s go to the hospital—your body is burning!”

I was already rising to my feet when she struggled to sit up, holding my hand. I lifted her slightly and turned toward her in the darkness.

Her voice was weak and strained.

“Come back and sit, Hasiya.”

Arguing with Amma has never been my nature. So I sat beside her again, still holding her hand. The heat from her body seeped into mine.

After a deep breath, she called my name softly. I answered quickly, fear gripping me at the way she was breathing. I fear crises—but more than that, I fear Amma’s illness worsening. It has no cure. At the hospital, they only give her injections and fluids. The pain calms, and we return home—but only I know how she suffers when it flares up.

That is why even the sound of a strong cough from her sends me into panic.

In a gentle voice, she said:

“Be patient with your destiny, Hasiya. One day, you will be happy, In sha Allah.”

I searched her face in the darkness, my mind wandering far from her words. When will that day of happiness come?

Then I heard her voice again:

“Never allow the thoughts people have about you to enter your heart. Don’t ever believe them—they are lying. What they associate you with is ignorance. There is no evil omen in our religion. The Prophet of Mercy taught us that. There is no witchcraft in our faith. So don’t let what’s happening disturb you.

It is Allah who decreed Abu Bakr’s destiny. And He also decreed Salisu’s trials. It is not you, Hasiya. You do not have the power to cause anyone’s destiny or trials. Everything that happens is by Allah’s knowledge and His will.”

She finished speaking, breathing heavily, her body trembling more.

I panicked completely and burst into tears.

“Amma, you’re shaking and you have a fever. Please, let’s go to the hospital!”