Zurfin Ciki Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

Since Abba doesn’t usually drink fura during the day—he prefers taking it at night—he normally buys it only occasionally. After getting home, he would drink it, but that day he told her to just leave him alone. Even yesterday, it was still there untouched.

When she left, Salis looked at him and said,

“Idris, are you not feeling well?”

He replied, “No, what did you notice?”

Salis said, “You’re not acting like yourself. I’ve noticed for days now that you’re troubled.”

Abba looked at him and said, “But you know I’ve been ill, don’t you?”

Salis replied, “Wait, Idris. Don’t think I’m pressuring you or trying to dig into your heart—no, that’s not it at all. I’m someone who quickly reads a person I sit close to for an hour, let alone you, whom I’ve been with for a long time, and we’re still together. Idris, I understand that you have a very deep heart. That’s why I’ve never bothered you by asking about your problems.

“And it’s because of that depth I see in you that, some days ago, I even brought you my own family problem. Praise be to God, you advised me, I used it, and I saw progress—my problems reduced.”

Abba smiled slightly.

“So you mean it’s because I have a ‘deep heart’ that you felt it was right to tell me your secrets?”

Salis said, “Something like that. A deep heart can swallow words, but in my opinion, sometimes a deep heart can also lead to destruction or a very serious problem.”

Abba looked at him.

“What kind of destruction?”

Salis replied, “Someone with a deep heart may develop heart disease while silently carrying his problems. Some even die from it without anyone knowing. But if what’s in your heart is shared with someone you trust—someone reliable—you’ll feel some relief.”

Abba said, “So since you don’t have a deep heart, does that mean you shouldn’t hear problems?”

Salis burst into laughter.

“So that’s where you’re going with this? You already know I don’t like praising myself. I just know what I’m saying.”

Abba said, “Salis, thank you for your concern. Even if you hear my problem, I know the advice you’ll give me won’t go beyond telling me to be patient—and that’s not what I want to hear. Salis, it’s not that I do nothing with my ‘deep heart.’ Whenever I have a problem, I usually go to my mother, and she resolves everything for me. That’s how she raised me, and the bond I have with her—I don’t even have that kind of closeness with my father.”

Salis said, “Then why don’t you tell her this time?”

Abba replied, “I can’t. Unless you can find me a solution other than patience—then I’ll tell you.”

Salis said, “God willing, we won’t lack a solution.”

Then Abba told Salis his entire story with Ummi, from the beginning up to now.

Salis took a deep breath and said,

“Do you see the harm of a ‘deep heart’? Ummi is your own, yet you’re about to lose her. There’s no solution beyond meeting your mother or your father and telling them your intention.”

Abba said, “That truly is the solution. But if I do that, two things will happen. First, I’ll disgrace my father—because there’s no dignity in giving out a daughter without any reason, then later saying he’s backing out. Second, it’s forbidden to seek marriage when the girl is already promised.”

Salis said, “That’s true. Then patience is the only option.”

Abba said, “But haven’t we already tried patience without success?”

Salis laughed and said, “Then pray.”

Abba stood up, saying, “Join me in prayer.”

From there, he entered his room. The Hausa Youth Square program was on, and now even Hausa people were presenting it. Every day, the program kept gaining popularity among the public.

UMMI

Ummi was lying on a long couch. It had been four days since she last saw Abba. As if her mother knew what was in her heart, she suddenly heard her say,

“It’s been three or four days since Abba last came to this house. He only calls us on the phone. Alhaji said he’s been going to the market.”

Ummi said, “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

She handed her phone to her mother.

“Dial his number for me.”

When it started ringing, she passed the phone to her. He picked up, they greeted each other, and she said,

“Abba, have I offended you?”

He replied, “Mother, what did you do?”

She said, “Exactly—you’ve abandoned me. You, who usually follow me in everything.”

He said, “I’m on my way, Mother. Don’t think lightly of me. Wherever I go, responsibilities pile up and push me forward.”

She said, “And I thought it was because we didn’t accept your advice about Ummi’s schooling.”

He replied, “Mother, that’s not it. I’ll come as soon as I return.”

She said, “Alright.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t avoiding them, but he didn’t like coming because whenever he saw Ummi, he lost his peace of mind for a long time. But now, it was Salis’s last words at work that echoed in his head:

“Mr. Adviser, my final advice—show your sister openly that you love her.”

He thought, That’s the hardest thing—confessing love to Ummi. That’s humiliating.

She didn’t love him. The moment you tell a woman you love her, no matter how much she respects you, you fall in her eyes—especially if you love her and she doesn’t love you back. Some women might even insult you openly.

He said out loud, “No, I’ll never rush to let her know I love her.”

From the depths of his heart, he felt a voice saying, Even if it kills you.

After praying the night prayer, he bathed, wore light clothes, and stepped out toward his mother’s house. Bishira watched him leave, then rushed after him, calling,

“Walid’s father! Walid’s father!”

He stopped. She asked, “Where are you going?”

He replied, “To my mother’s house.”

She said, “There’s no mother’s house—you’re just going out chasing women.”

He laughed. When he calmed down, he said,

“Even if I’m going after women, what will you do about it?”

She said, “Hey! I swear you’ve gone too far. I keep telling you—you’re a one-woman husband!”

He said, “Did I hear you right?”

She replied, “Yes.”

He pushed her aside and said,

“That’s easy, since it’s not God’s command.”

He left her there, cursing him.

At the entrance of the house, Ummi was sitting with Sahabi, chatting—though Sahabi was the only one talking. Ummi was lost in the world of her own thoughts and desires. From afar, she sensed the scent of Abba’s perfume and quickly stood up. She wanted to look at his face, but he turned away from them, ignored her greeting, and walked straight inside.

Sahabi said,

“Brother Abba is around? It’s been two days since I last saw him.”

She looked away and said,

“I’m going home.”

He said, “But Ummi, I just arrived.”

She looked at him, feeling like slapping him. She said,

“My head hurts, and Brother Abba doesn’t like me staying out long when he’s around.”

He said, “Alright, then—tomorrow?”

She replied, “Please don’t come tomorrow. Let it be the day after.”

He said, “You’re punishing me. I can’t go two days without seeing you.”

Instead of feeling happy, irritation filled her heart. She thought, Since you already have your fiancée.

He pleaded softly, “Please let me come tomorrow.”

She said, “Alright.”

As she began to leave, he followed a bit and said,

“Good night, my friend.”

Coldly, she replied, “Mm.”

She found Abba chatting with their mother. She pushed a bowl of biscuits toward him, coaxing him to eat. She greeted them, and it was their mother who answered.