Majanuni Book 3 Complete Binta Umar Abbale

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MAJANUNI BOOK 3 HAUSA NOVELS 

The scent of her perfume was what signaled her arrival to him.
Calmly, he lifted his head, breaking away from reading the newspaper in his hands. His face contorted into a frown as he gave her a sharp, suspicious look.
She merely smiled without saying a word, attempting to seat herself on the chair facing him.
With a thunderous shout, he halted her actions completely. "Don't you dare sit down there!" he barked, his eyes widening with pure rage. As much as he dreaded death itself, that was how deeply he detested her; Fatima had inflicted a catastrophic wound upon his life.
Pointing his finger toward the exit, he ordered, "Get out and leave my sight before you thoroughly regret it!"
She shook her head, the calm smile still plastered across her face as she replied, "Well, regardless of everything, you must sit down and listen to me to hear exactly why I came. Even if I don't deserve your respect for Shukura’s sake, at least let me receive it for the sake of the family ties that exist between us."
Scoffing loudly, he pulled back, sat down, and returned to reading the newspaper in his hand.
The room fell into a heavy silence for five full minutes before she let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. She looked at him as an overwhelming, agonizing wave of love rushed through every fiber of her being. She had been the foolish one back then, and now he had drifted completely out of her reach. She had tried everything humanly possible to win him back but had utterly failed, simply because there was no soul on earth he despised more than her.
"I came here to discuss Shukura," she finally spoke, keeping her eyes locked onto him.
He remained completely silent, refusing to lift his head, let alone offer a response.
She pressed on, saying, "I managed to secure a federal employment opportunity for her at the High Court in the Federal Capital Territory. I sincerely hope you won't ruin this for her and humiliate me."
Without a single trace of warmth on his face, he replied flatly, "Shukura is not going to take any job. My ultimate ambition is to see her married off to a fitting husband. Therefore, set this entire matter completely aside."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" she demanded, a sharp wave of anger flaring up within her.
He stated, "I do not approve of your agenda."
Enraged, she countered, "But surely you know you aren't the only one with authority and parental rights over her, don't you?"
"Yes, I am fully aware that both you and I brought her into this world. However, what I want is exactly what will be done. If you feel there is any action you can take against that, by all means, be my guest."
With a heavily clouded face, she snapped to her feet. "Fine! Since that is your stance, I will show you exactly what kind of power I wield over her."
In a violent fit of rage, she stormed out of the room.
He let out a long, heavy sigh of disgust, following her with a fierce glare until she had completely cleared the area. He then turned his head away, breathing deeply as he recalled the profound, bitter heartbreak and misery she had caused him in the past.
She rushed into the room with frantic urgency, but what she witnessed froze her in her tracks. Shahida was curled up miserably against the side of the bed drawer, her head buried in her knees, weeping in a deeply agonizing, heart-wrenching manner.
Her heart skipping a beat in sheer panic, she softly called out her name, her voice laden with profound sympathy. "Shahida, won't you tell me what is destroying you? Every single day you hide yourself away in this room to weep. If this is about Saminu, that matter is completely dead and buried. Stop torturing your soul; as long as there is breath in my body, I will never stand by and allow your father to force you into an unwanted marriage."
Hearing her mother's soothing, tender words of comfort caused Shahida to gently ease her heavy weeping. She reached up to wipe away the hot tears streaming down her face and said, "Baba, you cannot solve my problem. In fact, if I tell you what is breaking my heart, you will likely just call me a lunatic. That is why I prefer to let this grief consume me until it becomes the very end of me."
The heavy words struck her mother deeply, causing a sudden weakness to wash over her legs. She quickly found a spot to sit down and asked, "Shahida, what kind of immense sorrow is this? One that makes you claim it will be the death of you? Please tell me you aren't trying to kill yourself over that madman?"
Hearing her mother's choice of words made Shahida instantly cover her mouth with her palm to stifle the fresh wave of crying that threatened to burst out. She shook her head violently, hot tears cascading down her cheeks. In a choked, trembling voice, she protested, "Please, stop calling him by that name! By God, he doesn't deserve it. He is absolutely not a madman, and I am entirely willing to sacrifice my own happiness for his sake!"
Her mother's spirit sank even lower upon hearing the girl's passionate declaration. She knew she had to stop pushing her so harshly, for no one truly knows what Allah has veiled from human sight. Yet, without a doubt, this entire situation terrified her to her core.
She softened her tone and said, "Very well, I hear you. I will stop calling him a madman. But can you at least tell me what has happened to him? Surely, a river does not turn muddy without a cause, Shahida. You have never plunged into a prolonged depression like this for days on end, so I have absolutely no doubt it is because of him."
Sniffling deeply, a profound sense of misery washing over her, Shahida replied, "It has been ten whole days since I last laid eyes on him. Ever since they brutally drove him away from his usual spot, I haven't seen him again. Even when I walk all the way to the edge of the market, I return home empty-handed. People have completely discarded his meager belongings into the refuse dump, leaving the site entirely bare ever since the vehicle owner reclaimed his property."
A sudden wave of relief washed over her mother’s heart, though she carefully masked it, maintaining an expression of deep sorrow and concern. She shook her head in pity and said, "Oh, dear Lord! No wonder I noticed you hadn't been taking food to him these past couple of days; so that is what happened. By God, I truly feel immense pity for that man."
Shahida's heart fractured completely, and the tears she had been desperately holding back burst forth. She cried out, "I just don't know what to do anymore! My heart aches to see him. I have no idea what miserable condition he is in right now. Someone needs to help him!"
Her mother looked at the girl with deep, sorrowful pity. It was clear that Allah had tried her with a powerful love in a completely unfitting place, leaving prayer as their only recourse.
She comforted her, saying, "Wipe your tears and stop crying. Insha Allah, I will join you in prayers, and I will arrange a complete recitation of the Holy Qur'an over this matter. If it is meant to be, Allah will surely bring you together again in a completely different place."
Clutching her hand tightly, Shahida said, "Thank you so much, Baba. May Allah reward your goodness. Insha Allah, I will also intensify my prayers so that Allah reveals him to us in perfect health and absolute peace of mind."
Alhaji Sammani, the lace merchant, was a wealthy businessman who secretly served as Hujaj's covert business associate. He was heavily involved in gambling as well, reaping massive fortunes from it, and used his legitimate textile trade merely as a front to deflect public suspicion away from his illicit activities.
The staggering amounts of money Hujaj owed him were completely beyond count. The entire world had turned its back on Hujaj; all his financial ventures had ground to an absolute halt, leaving him entirely dependent on desperate, frantic schemes. He had traveled extensively across remote villages, consulting various spiritual clerics and scholars to uncover exactly what had gone terribly wrong with his life.
Hujaj owed Alhaji Sammani roughly 2.5 million Naira, and at this critical juncture, Sammani demanded his money back in full to settle an urgent personal matter. Hujaj was completely at a loss; he scrambled in every direction, utterly unhinged and frantic. He became so completely thoroughly broken that he even began muttering to himself along the streets. Ultimately, he made the desperate decision to put his house up for sale on the market to settle his staggering debts.

Translation: Pages 41 & 42

However, putting his house on the market did absolutely nothing to change his bleak fortunes. Every single agent who came to inspect the property valued it at an insultingly low price. This was largely due to the house being located in a very ancient, traditional neighborhood. Furthermore, the building was an old-fashioned, multi-story mud structure whose plaster was completely eroding, leaving gaping holes inside and out. To make matters worse, it consisted of only three tiny rooms, a modest courtyard, a kitchen, and a single restroom. Because of these severe flaws, the house held very little real estate value. The highest offer he received from the final bidder was a meager 1.2 million Naira, while all previous buyers had offered downright humiliating sums.
Seeing that he had absolutely no other choice, he reluctantly surrendered the property at that price. He figured he would pay off 1 million Naira of the debt immediately, with a solemn promise to settle the remaining balance within a few short days, fully expecting a separate sum of money his spiritual cleric had firmly assured him would manifest.
Alhaji Sammani, however, flatly refused to accept this arrangement. He argued that it was completely unacceptable for Hujaj to play games with his wealth, especially since he had loaned him the money as a lump sum. To receive a mere 1 million Naira out of a 2.5 million Naira debt at a time when he desperately needed heavy capital to place an import order was insulting. Without wasting another moment, Sammani marched straight to the police station to file a formal criminal complaint. When it came to his money, he showed absolutely no mercy to anyone—including his own blood relatives.
"Alhaji Sammani, by God, I never expected you could humiliate me like this! You actually dragged me to a police station? I genuinely believed you were someone who would protect my dignity under any circumstances. Alhaji Sammani, what is 2.5 million Naira that you would choose to utterly disgrace me over it?"
Smirking coldly, Sammani replied, "Alhaji Jamilu, I personally didn't want things to go this far, but you brought this entirely upon yourself by continuously running circles around me, even after I explicitly explained the urgent need I have for that money. Tell me, are you trying to drag me into poverty just like you have ruined yourself?"
Giving a bitter, frustrated smile, Hujaj replied, "You have the right to say whatever you please right now, but mark my words: you will deeply regret what you have done to me."
Shrugging his shoulders with complete indifference, Sammani retorted, "All I care about right now is my money. Here we are sitting before the Officer-in-Charge, who will serve as our official witness. I will accept the 1 million Naira today—not because I am happy with it, but solely to reach a temporary resolution between us. Therefore, state the exact date you will balance my money."
Hujaj fell completely silent, heavy beads of sweat pouring down his face.
The D.P.O. spoke up, "Alhaji Jamilu, we are listening to you."
Lifting his bloodshot eyes, Hujaj stated, "By the end of this month, Insha Allah, I will pay Alhaji Sammani his money in full."
The D.P.O. drafted a formal agreement on a sheet of paper and handed it over to him to sign.
Looking at him sternly, the officer added, "This is the final word on the matter, Alhaji Jamilu. You have been treated with the utmost fairness. Do not let the deadline lapse and then come back to us with excuses, because the authorities will not listen to you. If you default on this promise, we will immediately take severe legal action."
Hujaj replied, "There is no problem; God will provide a way out." Without waiting to hear another word from them, he snapped to his feet and stormed out of the office in a fit of rage. They both watched him leave, shaking their heads in utter amazement.
Dressed sharply and fully prepared to head out, he found her sitting comfortably in the living room watching television. Before he could utter a word, she preempted him, saying, "Your Eminence, I would like to have a serious word with you." Hearing this brought a gentle smile to his face. He walked over and took a seat facing her. In his heart, he already suspected exactly what the conversation would be about, but he chose not to jump to hasty conclusions.
Adjusting her posture, she began, "Hajiya Fatima brought a formal complaint against you regarding Shukura. She claims she secured an excellent employment opportunity for her, but you flatly blocked it. I want to hear your reasons for doing so."
Suppressing his internal irritation, he replied, "Hajiya, I am begging you to please stay out of this matter entirely. I simply do not support this path. My ultimate dream is for Shukura to find a responsible suitor so I can marry her off; I will never tolerate this current arrangement."
She questioned, "But why? Does that mean all the extensive education she received is simply going to waste?"
He answered, "It will not go to waste, provided she utilizes it in the proper manner. What I mean is that she should use her knowledge to raise her children with pristine morals and maintain a submissive, honorable marriage."
Letting out a soft sigh, she conceded, "That is true, and you certainly have a valid point. However, she has yet to find a serious, committed suitor. What harm is there in letting her work in the meantime so she can enjoy the fruits of her academic labors?"
Shaking his head in firm disapproval, he glanced briefly at the wristwatch securely fastened to his arm and said, "Let us drop this matter entirely, Hajiya. Just continue to shower her with your prayers."
She replied, "Very well then. May Allah choose an upright, noble husband for her." He solemnly answered, "Ameen."
Watching him as he prepared to stand up, she asked, "Where are you heading to now? I've noticed you stayed back to rest properly at home these past two days, which made me incredibly happy."
He replied, "I am traveling to Kano, but I will only be away for two to three days before returning, as I have an upcoming trip to Swaziland, Insha Allah."
She said, "May God guide your steps and protect you wherever you go. However, I will never cease reminding you about marriage, Alhaji Habu. If you truly wish to be seen as a complete, fully accomplished man, you must take a wife. Otherwise, people will never stop whispering and harboring suspicions about you."
Smiling warmly, he replied, "I am very close to getting married, Hajiya, Insha Allah. Just keep me in your prayers."
Her face lighting up with immense joy, she exclaimed, "Alhamdulillah! That is exactly what I wanted to hear. May the Almighty grant you a truly righteous companion."
He answered, "Ameen ya Rabbil-alamina."
The pure terror and overwhelming panic of his situation triggered an agonizing, blinding headache within him. Despite his immense physical endurance, the illness completely confined him to his bed. Talatu's anxiety spiked dramatically; after all, whenever he went out, he managed to bring home something that alleviated her hardships. She began scrambling frantically, begging for loans from neighbors just to secure basic food to feed the children.
Realizing that there were only a few days remaining before his legal deadline lapsed, he decided to inform her of the grim reality, hoping she might offer some form of assistance.
What pure chaos that unleashed! Instead of showing him an ounce of sympathy in his miserable condition, Talatu began raining down insults, cruelty, and public humiliation upon him. She claimed that he had bought this misfortune with his own money and resources, so she had absolutely no intention of helping him. She argued that he spent his money entirely on his own selfish desires while continuously failing to fulfill his duties toward her and the children; therefore, this was solely his problem. As things stood, only his children felt any pity for him, and they were the ones nursing him through his illness. Talatu completely ignored him and went about her own business.
It was Jamila who eventually decided to go and inform Shahida about the critical state of their father’s health and the sheer panic they were all in.
Shahida couldn't hold back anymore, and bitter tears of frustration escaped her. She had no doubt that the sudden illness was triggered by his own mounting fear and overwhelming distress. What was anyone supposed to do with a character like their father's? The entire world knew, and his own children were witnesses, that his lifestyle was forbidden (haram). They had pleaded with him repeatedly to change his ways, but he steadfastly refused, constantly plunging himself deeper into catastrophe. Today he would take a massive loan from one person; tomorrow he would swallow a debt from another—and always in exorbitant amounts! Well, now he had finally hit rock bottom. The house he once boasted about had been signed away, and yet his financial problems remained entirely unsolved. Indeed, the ultimate end of greed is deep shame! The man who purchased the house had already served an eviction notice with only a few days remaining, while another creditor was waiting in the wings for 1.5 million Naira. What kind of nightmare was this?
With bloodshot eyes, Shahida stepped out into the courtyard, holding her hijab in her hand. Jamila followed closely behind her, her face equally masked with visible distress.
Baba, who was busy sorting out spinach leaves, looked up at them and shook her head. There was no doubt that a storm was brewing, judging by the expressions on their faces. Furthermore, she suspected that something major was happening to their father, especially since she caught them whispering under their breath, clearly trying to prevent anyone else from overhearing their conversation.
In her characteristically strained voice, Shahida said, "Baba, I am going to see our father. He is very sick, and Jamila just came to inform me."
Deeply moved, Baba replied, "Good Lord! Well, crying won't help him; what he needs from you both are prayers. May God raise his shoulders and grant him strength, for sickness does not automatically mean death. But tell me, what exactly is ailing him?" She finished, looking directly at Jamila, who was fighting back tears.
In a muted voice, Jamila replied, "He has an agonizing headache. But when the doctor examined him, he confirmed that his blood pressure has spiked dramatically."
"Good Lord! That is the very thing everyone has been worried about. May God grant him swift healing."
They all answered in unison, "Ameen."
Baba then handed a five-hundred-Naira note to Shahida, saying, "Use this for your transport fare, but make sure you return early. Do not let nightfall catch you out there, do you hear me?"
Submissively, Shahida replied, "Insha Allah." As they turned toward the exit, Baba added, "Jamila, extend my regards and wishes for a speedy recovery to the patient, alright?"
She answered, "Insha Allah, I will surely tell him."
Baba shook her head slowly after they departed. She felt immense pity for them for lacking a responsible, upright father. If Jamilu couldn't learn his lesson now, then when would he ever open his eyes? To make matters worse, God had blessed him with an entirely female lineage—this alone should have given him pause for reflection.
When the girls arrived at the house, their father was sleeping soundly, all alone in his room. Talatu, on the other hand, was completely preoccupied with her own affairs. Hadiza was absent, having gone to attend a friend's wedding event. The house felt entirely desolate and drained. Only now was Talatu frantically trying to put together a meal after scrambling to beg for a loan from the neighbors.
With an uninviting scowl, she glared at the girls and snapped, "Oh! So you went and dragged her along? What is she supposed to do here anyway? Or can she suddenly pay off the massive debts hanging over his head?"
Jamila countered, "Haba, Talatu, that is no way to speak. Aunty Shahida and I are one and the same, and she has every right to be here. I went and informed her so she could come check on him because, regardless of everything, he is still her father."
Scoffing loudly, Talatu spun around and marched into the kitchen, leaving them standing there in sheer frustration at her bitterness.
It was close to the Maghrib prayer when he finally awoke from his sleep, feeling slightly better and more stable. As he stepped out to perform his ablutions, he found them sitting quietly in the courtyard, completely downcast. His heart sank even further. He felt too deeply ashamed to look them in the eye. Hurriedly, he grabbed his plastic kettle (buta) and made a beeline for the restroom. The girls immediately rushed to offer their sympathies, chorusing words of comfort. He could only manage a brief nod of his head before quickly slipping into the restroom, while Talatu followed him with a harsh, piercing glare.
"Baba, how are you feeling now?" Shahida asked gently. Without looking up at her, he replied, "I am feeling better, Alhamdulillah. Who informed you that I was unwell?"
Wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek, she said, "Jamila came and told me, so I decided to come see you. Baba Asabe also sends her regards and wishes you well."
"I accept her greetings. I really am feeling better, so you should head home before it gets dark," he said, casting a fleeting glance at her. Seeing her weeping filled him with a sudden dread; he had no doubt that she had discovered the full scope of what was happening. He dropped his head, knowing that the pure frustration of the situation was breaking her heart.
Sure enough, her trembling voice pierced the silence. "Baba, what kind of life have you thrown yourself into? What kind of existence are you trying to drag us into? Don’t you have even an ounce of pity for us?"
He remained utterly silent, offering no reply.
Sniffling deeply, she pressed on, "You have completely shattered your dignity and reputation in this town. There isn't a single soul who doesn't know the exact nature of your shady dealings. True wealth comes only from Allah, and by God, the Almighty will never bless you through forbidden means! And even if He grants you temporary abundance through it, it only ends in ultimate regret and deep public shame! What exactly is the profit in what you do? Look at how you have plunged yourself into catastrophe and dragged us right along with you. Where on earth are we going to find 1.5 million Naira right now? To make matters worse, you have signed away the very last house remaining to your name. Now, where are we—and you—supposed to turn for shelter?"
Pointing a trembling, furious finger at her, he roared, "Don't you dare utter another foolish word to me! Who the hell do you think you are to lecture me? How old are you? What do you possibly know about life to come here and interrogate me with religious rules? This is my final warning to you! If you ever open your mouth to speak to me like this again, you will thoroughly regret it, by God!"
Submissively, she whispered, "Please forgive me, Baba." He cut her off with a booming shout, pointing to the exit. "Get out of my sight, you complete fool!"
She rushed out instantly, wiping away her flowing tears. Talatu let out a heavy scoff and jeered, "What a completely useless waste of tears! You are wasting your breath on nothing, girl. That father of yours has gone way too far down the wrong path to ever find his way back. Every single one of you had better find a fallback plan, because anyone who depends on Jamilu will simply be consumed by sheer heartbreak."
Hadiza countered, "Talatu, regardless of how ruined he is, he is still our father. We have no choice but to worry and feel his pain."
Talatu snapped back, "Well, then why don't you all pool your money together and pay off his massive debts, you fools? People try to open your eyes, and you choose to turn away."
But honestly, moving past Talatu's bitterness, what else could the girls do? Were they supposed to physically assault him? He had already caused immeasurable damage to their lives; they simply had to endure it and continue to pray for him, for a leopard cannot change its spots.
The caller for the Isha prayer was just crying out when a commercial tricycle (Mai Adaidaita Sahu) dropped her off by the roadside.
She paid the driver his fare and attempted to cross the road to enter their street. Her entire focus was locked onto getting home quickly, seeing how dark the evening had become, coupled with the complete lack of street lighting. Just as she was in the middle of crossing, she suddenly felt a sharp, sudden tug at the edge of her hijab.
Terrified, she spun around instantly, stepping back in sheer panic as her heart pounded violently against her chest.
He was standing right there, looking exactly as he always did, save for a slight change in clothing. His face was completely covered in a thick, unkempt beard, and the hair on his head was a tangled, wild mess. He was dressed in a traditional Tazarce outfit made of blue Shadda fabric, though it was heavily faded and worn out. On his feet were a pair of thoroughly scuffed shoes, though remarkably, there was no actual dirt on him.
A calm, gentle smile played across his lips as he gazed at her with an intense, meaningful look.
Her heart hammered wildly as she stared back, desperately trying to confirm whether he was a flesh-and-blood human or a spirit, for the sheer suddenness of the encounter thoroughly terrified her.
His voice instantly snapped her back to reality. "Shahida, it is me, Baban-Baba. Are you surprised to see me?" He spoke with a raised voice, fully aware of her hearing impairment.
Letting out a long, trembling sigh of relief, the residual fear still clinging to her, she gasped, "Baban Baba, is it truly you, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
Stepping closer to her, he said in a calm, soothing tone, "It is really me, my love. I know you missed me, didn't you? I was out there, but my entire mind was focused completely on you."
Hot tears of pure relief escaped her eyes as she whispered, "Alhamdulillah! Oh God, I thank You for answering my prayers."
Smiling warmly, he remarked, "Earlier today, I watched you leave the house alongside your friend. I saw how deeply consumed by sorrow your faces were, and it made my spirit sink. I knew right then that something terrible was happening, which is why I resolved to sit right here and wait for your return before I departed."
Shahida lowered her head bashfully, nervously playing with her fingers.
He stepped even closer to her, his voice softening. "Won't you tell me what is troubling your heart?"
She looked up at him, gently shaking her head.
Softening his tone even further, he urged, "I am listening... speak to me."