Wata Kishiyar Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

I was the only one sitting quietly in the house like a witch until 10:00 pm, feeling sleepy but unable to go to my room to lie down because of fear, and they still had not returned.

The sound of his car stopping made me stand up just as Ahmad rushed in calling loudly, “Mami! Mami!”

“Yes Ahmad, what happened?” I asked while holding him.

He immediately began telling me where they had gone. They went to a playground, then to my favorite restaurant where they ate, and after that they stopped at the cinema to watch a movie, which was why they came back so late.

Because everyone was tired, each person went straight to their room.

I personally bathed the twins and prepared them for bed. Before 11 pm, the whole house had become quiet because everyone had fallen asleep.

Only then did I go into my room, my heart burning with anger.

Out of sheer annoyance, I didn’t even touch the takeaway food they brought for me. Instead, I went to take a bath, trying to suppress my emotions before dressing up and heading to Baban Ali’s room.

When I entered, I found him sitting on the bed talking on the phone, wearing a sly smile that I honestly couldn’t remember the last time he gave me. Even without being told, I knew he was talking to Amira, because Baban Ali was not the type to chat with other women.

Before all this, I was the only woman in his life before he brought these troubles into my life.

Seeing him on the phone only made my anger worse. Wasn’t this disrespect? Yes, she is his wife too, but he should still respect me. If he wants to make his calls, he should find a private place—not sit on my bed in my room while doing it.

This new level of boldness he had developed was really pushing me to the wall.

Before I realized it, I let out an annoyed “tsaki” sound while turning my eyes away from him after our eyes met.

“Who are you hissing at?” he asked while the phone was still at his ear.

“Who else is in the room?” I replied angrily.

“Is that Aunty?” I heard Amira’s voice asking him just as I bent near him to pick up the scarf he had placed on the bed. Then I deliberately raised my voice so she would hear me and said:

“Is that the dear cousin? Or do you have something to say?”

“I always tell you to behave respectfully, don’t I? But fine,” he said while standing up from the bed and walking toward the door.

A deep sadness tightened my throat. I simply climbed onto the bed and lay down, bursting into tears.

No matter how much I try to endure, Bashir keeps hurting me. Since he married that girl, there hasn’t been a single week that I haven’t cried out of pain.

Is this how my life will end?

I didn’t even know when he returned to the room. I only woke up in the middle of the night when I felt someone touching me. I pushed him away strongly until he woke up.

I got up from the bed and went into the toilet.

I urinated, performed ablution, wore my hijab, and began praying night prayers, followed by long supplications.

As usual, whenever we have a disagreement, I start praying at night while he sits there resting his chin on his hand watching me. When he gets tired, he also performs ablution and joins the prayer.

(Not that I normally don’t pray — but I make my prayers longer whenever we fight so that I won’t have to lie down beside him. Even in our worst fights, we still share the same bed 😂😂.)

I know what he might be thinking — maybe he thinks I’m complaining about him to Allah 😂😂.

Honestly, not even once have I ever said “Allah ya isa” (Allah is sufficient against you) about Bashir. Instead, I always pray that Allah forgives him and gives him the ability to treat us fairly, and continues to give him the ability to take care of us.

After all, I know Bashir loves me, and I love him too. I didn’t leave him during difficult times, so why should I leave now that things are good and allow another woman to enjoy what we struggled for?

No, that will never happen.

I continued praying until the Fajr call to prayer.

I watched him leave for the mosque, and after that I prayed the two rak’ahs of Sunnah of Fajr and then the obligatory prayer.

Because I had not slept during the night, I couldn’t even recite my morning adhkar before falling asleep again.

When I woke up, it was already past 10 am.

So I took my bath in the room, dressed up, and then went to the living room.

Everything in the house was well arranged because I never joke about teaching my children house chores. We do everything ourselves since I don’t have a housemaid. Even though I now work in the morning, we still clean before leaving the house, and since we don’t spend the whole day at home, the house rarely gets messy.

In the living room, there was no one except Baban Ali, working on his computer.

He lifted his head and gave me a single glance before lowering it again and continuing his work.

I walked closer to him and quietly greeted him “Good morning,” even though I was still annoyed with him.

He replied without even looking at me.