Wannan Ce Qaddararmu Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Ummita was lying on a long three-seater couch in the living room of her mother, Mairo. She wore white glasses that fit her perfectly, and in her hand was a copy of Bulugh al-Maram, which she was studying carefully, revising what their Islamic teacher had taught them the previous day. She was deeply focused on her studies, because she never wanted to fall behind in anything related to her education. She didn’t want a situation where the teacher would ask a question about the lesson and she wouldn’t be among the first to raise her hand to answer.

The room was quiet—so silent that nothing could be heard except the beating of her heart and the gentle sound of the living room fan spinning slowly. While reading, she took a breath, paused, and let out a deep sigh along with a quiet hiss within herself, because she sensed movement and heard the voice of someone trying to enter the room.

It was her elder brother, Ma’aruf, standing at the doorway, holding up the curtain of the living room. He neither stepped in nor went back; he just stood there, biting his lower lip. He was dressed in a well-tailored white Aba outfit, the gown reaching his knees. On his wrist was a black leather watch, and his face was calm and shining. A strong, captivating fragrance filled her nostrils the moment he appeared. His hair was neatly groomed in his usual afro style, and his eyes were fixed on the interior of the living room—on her.

He stood there for about two minutes before finally stepping inside, offering a greeting of peace, though she knew he didn’t really mean it for her.

She glanced at him once, then looked away and sighed again without responding to his greeting. That action hurt him deeply. Instantly, a kind of darkness seemed to settle over his heart and body. He almost spoke to her, but then ignored her, deciding to suppress whatever he felt toward her. If she was being arrogant, then he was even more so. And if it was a matter of habit, he had long grown used to her unpleasant behavior—this wasn’t the first time she had treated him like this.

Yet, whenever she acted this way, he never failed to think of ways to deal with her. Even now, his mind was racing with thoughts of how to upset her. His heart urged him to go to her, tear the book from her hands, and beat her severely—to show her that this was not a place for childish games. But remembering that they were in their own family section made him restrain himself. He turned his gaze away from her, hissed softly, then went to sit a little distance from where she lay.

He said, “Mamuna, where are you? If you’re not inside, I know where I’ll end up tonight, because I don’t like staying in the same place as this fat lion.”

His words struck her ears and pierced deep into her heart, making her feel like responding sharply. But she remained silent, knowing their mother was inside. Otherwise, she might end up being beaten in front of this wicked tyrant. So she hissed quietly to herself, turned her back to him, and continued reading as though no one else existed in the room. Meanwhile, he kept shaking one leg, clicking his tongue, and sighing repeatedly.

Not up to five minutes later, their mother came out from the inner room.

“Oh, Ma’aruf! When did you arrive in town? We were expecting you tomorrow.”

He greeted her before replying,

“I just arrived not long ago. I came in to greet my mother.”

“Well done, my blessed son. You did well to come and see me. How did you leave the people of Kano? I hope they are all well?”