Zubar Hawaye Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

May Allah forgive you. Truly, I have suffered a loss that I will never be able to erase from my heart until the day my own time comes.

I shook my head and cried when the news of your death reached me. May Allah make death a rest for you, and may He place you among the youth of Paradise. May Allah grant us patience over your loss, Ibrahim Sulaiman. I will never forget you because you were among those who gave me encouragement when I started writing books. May Allah forgive His servant and grant him His mercy. And when our own time comes, may Allah make us die upon faith.

We love you, but Allah loves you more.

Dr. Sule family, we have lost a brother filled with kindness and family ties.

—

ZAUREN LITTATTAFAN HAUSA GROUP

In the city of Yola, everyone knows that most of the inhabitants are Fulani.

In the Damare area, young men, women, children, and adults crowded around a borehole where water is sold. A bucket is sold for ten naira, and three buckets for twenty naira.

Most people come there especially when they have stayed two days without water. Many of the customers are water sellers who transport water using carts (locally called amalanke).

If you see a boy or girl fetching water there, it is usually because their parents are struggling financially or very poor.

Aysher was sitting aside, waiting for her turn in the queue because she did not come early. She only came after her elder sister, Yadikko, sent her out.

Whenever NEPA electricity is available, water becomes cheaper than when the generator is on.

Aysher had just returned from school and was sitting down to eat when Yadikko told her to go and fetch water.

Because of electricity, Yadikko told her to buy three big bucketfuls.

As usual, Aysher was not someone who liked noise or stress. She quietly sat aside eating raw Hausa sweet potatoes that her friend Fatima Alhasan had given her and told her to hide in her bag.

She waited for about an hour before her turn came. She fetched the water one bucket after another until she finished, then went home happily, greeting as she entered with buckets on her head. She was glad because she planned to eat and then go to Islamic school for Qur’an memorization preparations for their graduation in two weeks.

After eating, she washed her hands and prayed, having just returned from school.

She took her hijab and Qur’an and lifted the curtain.

“Yadikko, I’m done. I’m going to school,” she said.

Yadikko looked at her with a serious face and replied:

“You are not going anywhere yet. Go to Innawuro’s house and finish the morning chores you did not complete. When you return, even if it is 3 a.m., you will still finish the work in this house.

What is your reason? Your father said you should go to school, but here you are. I am happy about this graduation you are preparing for, but after that, there will be no more Islamic school for you—you will work seriously in Innawuro’s house. Since your father has refused to let you do street hawking, then this is your fate.”

With a heavy heart, Aysher carried her Qur’an back into her room, came out again, and left the house quietly, heading toward Innawuro’s house.