Mujarrabi Book Compelet

Description

Title, Genre, Author, and Contact Information

• Title: MUJARRABI (Age is just a number)
• Genre: A destiny love story (Hausa Novel)
• Author: SAYYADA ✍️ Barrister UMMUL UMMU ABIHA
• Contact: 09021706569
• Dedication: Dedicated to all women facing the trials and challenges of late marriage (delayed marital destiny), emphasizing that it is beyond their control and that true companionship comes in its own destined time.
• Special Acknowledgment: The author expresses profound gratitude to the head of Mikiya Writers Association, Nimcy luv.

1. English Translation of the Hausa Text

The setting is in Maiduguri Old GRA. It is a large flat house with a big black gate, an old building with faded paint, clearly belonging to a retired civil servant. The compound is charming, featuring neat, lined, though older, green plants and flowers. The main flat consists of several rooms and a large parlor furnished with maroon leather seating that has faded and begun to peeling, alongside two old standard fridges near the corridor and a big plasma TV.

Hamra steps out of the bathroom calmly, smelling cleanly of pawpaw and aloe vera soap and gel. A white towel is wrapped from her chest down to her smooth thighs. Walking gently on the blue-black carpet, she sits before a mirror stocked with body lotions, hair products, and fragrant perfumes. She sits on a standard chair, gazes at her reflection for 5 minutes, and lets out a deep sigh, feeling pity for herself because, despite the stunning and breathtaking beauty God blessed her with, she has remained unmarried for all these years.

She unwraps her long hair, which she had coiled into a tight bun to keep it from bothering her. It cascades down her back, reaching past her hips. She mixes Jet oil, Gurguwa oil, and pink oil, applies it generously to her hair, combs it, ties it with a ribbon, and coils it back up. After wiping her hands with a tissue, she applies normal Vaseline to her smooth, fair skin—avoiding bleaching creams because her natural skin remains resilient and unchanged. She spritzes herself with body spray, puts on a long dress that perfectly fits her Coca-Cola shape, drapes herself with the matching veil, grabs her phone, and steps out. She stops abruptly upon seeing Ammar standing by her door, and she frowns.

Ammar smiles, expecting this reaction, sighs softly, and speaks in a low, silent voice: "Hamra (the fair woman), do you not have duty at the hospital today?"

Hamra takes a breath, walks closer to him, lifts her head, and looks at him without softening her expression. He is tall, looking older and taller than her. She says: "Ammar (Umar), for how long must I keep repeating that you need to say salam and get permission before entering my room? Do you not know you are a grown man now?"

He smiles, amused that she always calls him a young boy yet today calls him grown. He gently replies: "Today you call me grown? Truly, this is surprising. But you didn't answer my question—are you going to the hospital?"

She breathes out softly: "I am on night duty today. The reason I call you a boy is because you are younger than me."

Stepping closer, he says: "I'm sorry. I just arrived, getting ready to leave, and I came to see if you have any errands you want me to run for you when I return home later."

"No, nothing. But even if there were, we'd talk over the phone."

He smiles, marveling at Hamra's obsession with seniority. People often assume he is her older brother because of his heavy build and height, but she always treats him like a child who can be sent on errands. She slips past him into the main parlor without another word.

The noise she hears confirms there are visitors in the house. She walks toward her Mommy’s side and smiles brightly upon seeing Ayshe (A'isha): "What a surprise! No notice, and here you all are."

Ayshe smiles and says: "I knew if I told you I was on my way, you'd insist on cooking, so I brought food along so you wouldn't stress yourself."

Hamra smiles: "Ah, habibty, thank you! But where are my children today?"

"Uhm, they are at their grandmother's house; they'll follow me back next weekend."

"Yaya Hamra, welcome back."

Hamra shifts her gaze to Zeenat, who is sitting heavily on the carpet with a huge baby bump, and asks caringly: "Praise be to God, Zeenat. How are you feeling?"

"All I can do is thank God. I can't wait to give birth."

"By God's grace, it will feel like just today."

"True," Ayshe chimes in.

Hamra looks at Waleed, who is on the bed beating his mother's back to wake her up, and says: "This champion sleeper is at it again! Maryama, wake up. Can't you hear the boy crying? Get up and give him his food."

Maryama ignores her until Hamra repeats it. Then Maryama sits up, looks at Waleed, lifts her gaze to Hamra with fury, and snaps: "What is wrong with you, Hamra? Every time I come home to rest, you must insert yourself into my life. I came home to find peace, but even here I cannot be left alone! I am the one who bore him and I know the pain of his birth, so surely I know his worth better than you!"

A heavy silence falls over the room. Hamra is their eldest sibling, yet Maryama is hurling unbefitting, harsh words at her—her own fourth younger sister...

The words sting Hamra deeply, but due to her resilient nature, she looks away. Ayshe speaks up angrily: "Maryama, have you lost your mind to talk to Yaya Hamra like this? Let me tell you, even I wouldn't dare speak to her that way, let alone you! Who do you think you are—"

Hamra quickly cuts her off: "Ayshe, drop the matter. I spoke the truth, which is why she is upset; it's not her fault, it is my fault. If it's up to me, I will never comment on your child again..."

Maryama, nursing Waleed, quickly snaps back: "Uhm, you better not, because you don't know the pain of childbirth! Utter nonsense."

This time, Maryama's comment delivers a severe shock to Hamra. What outsiders sometimes whisper, her own fourth younger sister is throwing in her face. It hurts deeply, though she conceals it.

Suddenly, a sharp slap echoes through the room (tasss!). Simultaneously, they look up to see Ammar has struck Maryama across the face. Ayshe and Zeenat immediately react: "Serves you right! Since she chose to be disrespectful to her."

Even though Maryama was disrespectful, Hamra is unhappy with Ammar's physical retaliation. Her body growing cold, she looks at him and asks: "Ammar, why did you slap her? Because of—"

"Yeah, Hamrah, I'll do much more than that if she keeps disrespecting you."

Hamra takes a deep breath, knowing this escalation will bring no good.

At that moment, their mother’s voice rings out from the doorway: "What is all this noise I've been hearing for a while now?"

Hamra slowly lifts her eyes, looks at their mother—whom they call Ammie—and closes her eyes. Ammar speaks up: "Ammie, Maryama has completely changed her behavior in recent months. Wallahi, if she doesn't stop—"

"Stop it, Ammar! You know nothing, yet you slap her while she is a married woman. Don't you ever do that again!" Ammie says angrily.

Hamra's body goes cold. She quietly stands up, walks out, and sits under the darbejiya tree in the middle of the courtyard. Without spreading anything, she reclines against the tree trunk, resting on its roots, closes her eyes, and softly breathes out while reciting Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un...

"Yaya Hamra."

She slowly opens her eyes and looks at Ayshe, who is standing with a large prayer mat, a big basket containing a large and small food flask, plates, spoons, and a bottle of Swan water. Ayshe places the basket down, spreads the mat, sits down, and says: "Sit on the prayer mat, Yaya Hamra. Sitting directly against this tree like that will give you body aches."

Hamra breathes out, gives her a smile that is neither fully happy nor sad, slides over, and sits next to her.

"Yaya Hamra, please forgive Maryama for—"

"Don't worry about it, Ayshe. It's nothing. Clearly, you have something you want to share with me today, I can see it on your face," Hamra says, looking at her.

Ayshe opens the large food flask, takes out two balls of semo, places them on a plate, opens the small food flask, and serves egusi soup rich in palm oil and condiments in front of Hamra. She says: "Yes, that's true. I came so we could discuss my problem. You know I have no one closer than you to wipe away my tears. But first, eat your food."

Hamra reaches into the basket, grabs a spoon and the bottle of Swan water, washes her hands, and begins eating slowly. She hasn't eaten anything since waking up today. She prompts: "I'm listening, Ayshe."

Ayshe adjusts her seating position, her spirit heavy as she remembers her ordeal: "Uhm, Bukar wants to take a second wife."

"Who is Bukar?" Hamra asks, continuing to eat.

Ayshe exhales, knowing Hamra knows who she means but wants her to use his proper name: "Alay Bukar, my husband."

Hamra smiles broadly: "Now, Ayshe, because he wants to take another wife, you are calling him by his native name? Where is the love you professed for him? Weren't you calling him 'Chocolaty'?"

"That was then, Yaya Hamra. I never imagined he would turn his back on me or betray me. Wallahi, he shocked me deeply. Uhm, a man is never a baby you can carry on your back; the moment a few naira touch his hands, he turns his back on his wife."

Hamra finishes her food—the portions were small—turns to Ayshe, who is shedding tears, and says: "That is simply the nature of life. Today you have happiness, tomorrow you might not. Understand that a man cannot be forbidden from marrying, nor can his choices be dictated. If he intends to, no one can stop him. But what judgment have you passed regarding his plan?"

"I stopped talking to him and cut him off completely. Seeing that, he ignored me too, so I thought it best to just return home and give up on the marriage."

Hamra gently places her hand over Ayshe's and says: "Instead of fixing things, Ayshe, you've made them worse. By doing this, you are only accumulating sins for yourself. Just because your husband is getting married doesn't mean you should shirk your marital obligations. Even if he fails in his duties, force yourself to fulfill yours."

"Yaya Hamra, what hurts me most is that to this day, he hasn't had the decency to tell me directly; I only heard it through his younger siblings! That's why I said I'm leaving his house."

"No, Ayshe, you are the one making a mistake by giving up that leverage. If you had handled it with patience and not shown him you knew through avoidance, he would have eventually told you. I'm not supporting him, nor am I saying he is right. But wherever you go, he won't be blamed—you will be. When is the wedding date?"

"Uhm, in two weeks."

"Then my advice to you is: exercise patience, return to your room, fulfill all your duties toward him, and do not show that the marriage bothers you. Clear your mind and act just as you used to."

Ayshe sighs, weighing Hamra's words, wondering if she can endure it...

"Ayshe, you have given birth to nearly five children for him. Where do you think you're going leaving them behind? To your co-wife or his family? So be patient. Many young single women are praying for the kind of settled home life you have and cannot find it. Besides, if you walk out now, you'll join my camp—I am unmarried, and you'll have divorced and returned."

Ayshe's spirit softens at Hamra's words. She says in a subdued tone: "It's just that I didn't do anything wrong, yet yesterday his sister even insulted me, saying I didn't upgrade my furniture set because the wedding is approaching."

Hamra breathes out: "That is nothing to worry about. Talk to Sulaiman the furniture maker about how much it will cost to upgrade your set on top of your current one. Whatever you agree on, let me know and I will send you the money."

Ayshe embraces Hamra, thanking her and wiping her tears. At that moment, Zeenat steps out, walking with great difficulty, approaches them, and says: "What sweet gossip is being cooked here without me?"

Hamra laughs: "Oh, this gossip is sweet, and you are definitely included."

They burst into laughter. They perform the Zuhr and Asr prayers right there, then begin preparing to leave. Hamra also needs to get ready for work. Just as they are about to get up, Maryama comes out carrying Waleed. Without acknowledging them, she heads outside, clearly expecting her husband to pick her up.

Zeenat hisses loudly and says: "What on earth does this girl puff herself up for? Just because her husband recently got a little money, she acts so arrogant. Let her wait until she needs us again."

Hamra smiles: "No, Zeenat, don't talk like that. She is your younger sister, still young and..."

"Who is young? Maryama is a married woman who knows men, and you call her young? It's pure disrespect! I'm going to put her in her place."

They laugh, head inside to get dressed, and depart. Hamra returns to her room, gathers everything she needs, dresses up, and steps out. She enters Ammie's room and finds her sitting on the prayer mat performing evening adhkar: "Ammie, I'm off to work. Goodnight."

She stands up and leaves, knowing Ammie won't reply; she simply discharges her duty as a daughter.

Just as she steps out, Ammar is also preparing to leave. Surprised, she asks: "Wait, you didn't leave earlier?"

He turns around, looking at her: "I took a nap and am just heading out now. Are you going to work? Let's go together, I'll drop you off on my way."

She sighs. They get into his car and he drives her straight to Al-Umma Specialist Hospital. He drops her off, she enters, and he drives away.

Calmly, she walks into the hospital. Smiling, she greets the staff and heads to her office. She sits down, opens her drawer, takes out her working tools, turns on her computer, and puts on her white coat and white eyeglasses. Dr. Aliyu pushes open the door with a salam, which she answers. He walks up and says: "Dr. Hamra, there are patients today in the VIP rooms sent by the MD. He requested special attention for them, and asked that we set aside regular patients for tonight..."

Hamra raises a hand to stop Dr. Aliyu, signaling enough is enough: "I will not look at them first. That is not how protocol works. I must examine my own scheduled patients before attending to his."

Dr. Aliyu sighs, knowing full well Hamra won't bend. She does her work with absolute integrity, but he warns: "It's a directive from the MD, and you know..."

"I know. Don't worry, just go do your job."

He walks out, marveling at her. She finishes her administrative tasks and walks to the general ward where patients are admitted. Seeing her, they wave happily because she is exceptionally attentive, taking her time to listen to their ailments. Knowing she is on duty tonight brings them joy. After greeting them, she returns to her office to observe Maghrib prayer, stays until Isha, and then resumes seeing her patients alongside Dr. Zalihat. Dr. Zalihat is well-regarded due to her competence, and together they draw many patients because of their care. Hamra never meddles in affairs that do not concern her; she does what she can and detests injustice.

Around 11:00 PM, she heads to the VIP rooms, checking on the patients one by one, before returning to her office to rest on a chair and recover from fatigue.

Suddenly, the door is pushed open without a knock. Though her eyes are closed and she hasn't looked up, she senses someone entering. The person shuts the door, walks right up to where she is sitting, and gazes down at her: "Have you finished examining the patients?"

That is all he says. Slowly, she opens her heavy eyes. It is Dr. Mahmoud, staring right back at her. She lets out a slow breath and asks: "Dr. Mahmoud, are you not a Muslim? Why do you enter without knocking or saying salam?"

He smiles, fixes his gaze hungrily on her chest, rolling his eyes and breathing heavily. Furiously, she sits up and adjusts her posture. He scratches his neck and says: "I did, but maybe you didn't hear it. Anyway, Assalamu alaikum."

Without answering his greeting, she fires back: "Do you need something?"

Directly, he replies: "Of course. I need you."

Shocked by his boldness, she holds her composure, acting as though she missed his implication. Seeing her reaction, he steps forward and reaches out to grab her hand. She jumps up instantly and snaps: "Have you lost your mind? What is the meaning of this?"

He eyes her Coca-Cola shape, exhales, and says: "Well, right now I've lost my mind, but if you give me what I want, I'll return to my senses."

She stares at him in sheer disbelief. He speaks without shame or fear of God, looking dead-eyed. She stands up with the intention of walking out, but he quickly lunges forward, grabs her, and pins her against the wall. She pushes him away forcefully, winds up, and delivers a resounding, thunderous slap across his face. Shaking with anger and disgust, she says: "Dr. Mahmoud! I used to respect you because of that beard you wear, but clearly, it's fake piety. Let me tell you: if you play with fire, learn to withstand the heat. Get out!"

Unfazed, he fixes his bloodshot eyes on her and breathes heavily: "I will give you better attention than Dr. Aliyu ever could. When it comes to handling a woman, I know how to do it, and you'll enjoy it."

By this point, the horror of his assumption dawns on her. What? He actually thinks she has been sleeping with Dr. Aliyu! Her eyes change color with pure rage as she snaps: "Think whatever filth you want! God forbid I ever mix my body with yours, you foul, morally rotten creature!"

With that, she grabs her phone, storms out, and paces the hospital courtyard huffing and puffing. She has wanted to quit this job for a long time, but tonight surpasses every other day in fueling her disgust. So, the reason Dr. Aliyu kept visiting her office for help with professional matters was because vultures like Dr. Mahmoud assumed a sordid relationship existed between them!

She stands outside for a while as Dr. Mahmoud casually strolls past her, completely unbothered. She walks back to her office, locks the door from the inside, collapses onto the resting chair, and lets the numbness wash over her until sleep claims her.

The next morning, she wakes up with a splitting headache—she has been battling it since dawn. She packs her things, steps out as the morning shift nurses arrive, exchanges greetings with them, and heads home.

Upon arriving, she sees her Daddy's car, confirming he is home. The house is dead silent; only she and Ammar are currently staying there, which makes it unusually quiet. She walks softly to her room, and just as she is about to turn the door handle, Ammie's voice calls out: "Hamra."

With a heavy heart, she turns around: "Good morning, Ammie."

Without acknowledging the greeting, Ammie fires off: "Is this the life you have chosen for yourself? Fear God, find a husband, and get married so we can have peace in this house! Look at your younger sisters—they are all married and have covered their shame, but you have brought shame upon yourself and us, doing whatever you please. Let me tell you: I will not sit by and watch you do this. I am giving you until the end of the month to find a husband. If you don't, neither you nor I will like what happens next. People are gossiping about you all over the family and the neighborhood because your beauty has blinded you. But I will not tolerate it!"

Hamra’s breathing turns shallow; her spirit is crushed by these harsh words from her own mother. This is precisely why she has been at odds with her...

"Hajiya Batula, did I not tell you to stop talking to Hamra like this?" Daddy interrupts, walking up. "We already discussed this matter. Why are you stirring it up again today? Her time has simply not come; when it does, it will happen just like the others."

Daddy approaches Hamra with care and says: "Hamra, go inside and rest. I know you worked the night shift and are exhausted. May God reward the help you render."

"Ameen," she murmurs.

He turns and walks away. Ammie retreats inside as well. Hamra turns around, tears streaming down her face, and reaches for her door. At that moment, she sees Ammar standing nearby, watching her with a troubled expression—he clearly has been standing there for a while. She quickly pushes her door open and steps inside, gently setting down her belongings.

2. Summary

Mujarrabi by Barrister Ummul Ummu Abiha tells the poignant story of Hamra (Hamrah), a dedicated doctor whose stunning beauty and high integrity contrast sharply with the societal pressure and family condemnation she faces due to late marriage (delayed marital destiny). Living in a household where domestic tensions run high—exemplified by her sister Maryama's ungrateful hostility, her sister Ayshe's marital struggles, and her mother Ammie's harsh, unrelenting criticism—Hamra maintains her dignity and resilient character.

The excerpt highlights a grueling night shift at Al-Umma Specialist Hospital, where Hamra faces professional dedication, institutional friction, and vile sexual harassment from a colleague, Dr. Mahmoud, who falsely assumes moral corruption because of professional interactions. Returning home exhausted, she is immediately met with an ultimatum from her mother regarding marriage, while her father attempts to shield her. Through it all, the novel explores the profound societal stigma faced by unmarried women, capturing the emotional toll of endurance, family dysfunction, and unwavering self-respect.

3. Description

The narrative is set in Maiduguri Old GRA and a modern medical environment, weaving a realistic contemporary domestic drama. It paints a vivid portrait of a traditional northern Nigerian household under strain, featuring multi-generational conflicts, sibling dynamics, and workplace ethics. The tone is deeply emotional, empathetic, and reflective, shifting between domestic friction, professional pressure, and psychological endurance.

4. Analytics

• Thematic Depth: Explores the societal burden of delayed marriage (jinkirin aure) on women, showing how even accomplished professionals face unfair judgment and pressure from their own families.
• Character Contrast:
  • Hamra: Embodies patience, resilience, professional integrity, and quiet endurance.
  • Ammie: Represents societal pressure, harsh judgment, and lack of maternal empathy toward unmarried milestones.
  • Maryama: Symbolizes ingratitude and emotional volatility.
  • Ammar & Daddy: Act as protective buffers and voices of reason within the household.
• Workplace Dynamics: Exposes the vulnerability of professional women to workplace harassment and malicious gossip (zanen baki), highlighting the strength required to maintain boundaries.

5. Comments

• Emotional Resonance: The author successfully evokes deep empathy for Hamra. Her silent endurance under harsh domestic criticism makes her a compelling protagonist.
• Social Commentary: The book sheds light on a very real cultural issue in northern Nigerian societies—where an unmarried woman, no matter how successful or pious, is often treated as a failure or a source of family shame.
• Character Dynamics: The relationship between Hamra and her younger brother Ammar, as well as her father's supportive interventions, provide a necessary counterbalance to the toxicity displayed by Ammie and Maryama.

6. Conclusions

Mujarrabi establishes itself as a deeply reflective social novel. This opening section successfully sets up the core emotional conflict: the societal and familial ostracization faced by women experiencing delayed marriage. Despite her grace, beauty, and professional achievements as a medical doctor, Hamra remains a prisoner of domestic expectations. The chapter concludes on a note of heavy emotional vulnerability, leaving the reader rooting for her ultimate vindication, emotional peace, and destined happiness.