My Lady Boss Complete Hausa Novel By Maman Teddy

Description

"...we are the ones who gather to go visit her; we have eaten and drunk to our fill, I am not hungry."
I said, "Oh I see, but even if it's just water, you can drink it Sahura." She took one, put it to her mouth, and said, "Alright, that's fine."
After she set the remaining water down, I looked at her calmly and said, "Sahura, how is work? I hope everything is fine. I see your cheeks look full, did he give you a salary raise?"
She burst into laughter, saying, "We are hoping so, my friend. You know, I actually asked him for a favor to transfer me to one of his companies closer to us, because before I get there I always run late, honestly. So when he asked for the reason, I told him, and I requested the favor."
I said, "That will be much better for you, honestly. Well, I wish you all the best, my friend. May Allah grant us our rightful blessings."
She answered "Ameen" while scanning the parlor. She said, "So, Kamalu and the others are at school then?"
"They are at school, wallahi. Do you know something?"
She shook her head and turned her full attention back to me.
"I am asking a favor of you. I don't know if Idris will agree, but my request is temporary; if I could have her completely until marriage, I would prefer that."
"What favor is that? Speak plainly. As long as it is within my power, I will do it for you—we have become one."
The vibrant way she said this gave me the confidence to clarify my situation to her. I continued, saying, "But then I thought the girl is helping you too, and she looks after her siblings whenever you go to work. That was the reason I kept the matter to myself."
She smiled, patted my shoulder, and said, "Stop saying that. If it were up to me, Yusura would return to your custody today. After all, the person and their belongings all belong to the same neck. I know you will look after her for me. As for looking after the house and the children, didn't you hear me say they are transferring my workplace close to home? You have raised this matter at the perfect time, in sha Allah, and their father will not refuse to agree."
I let out a soft sigh of relief and said, "Thank you very much for this generosity, my friend. In sha Allah, I will do my best regarding all her schooling expenses so she can pick up from where she left off, since there are schools around here."
She paused, looking at me. "Do you think there will be any problem with your co-wives?"
"There won't be any problem, Sahura. After all, since the master of the house has agreed, the matter is settled. Jamila is the problem in the house, but I know how I will handle her."
She took a calm breath and said, "In sha Allah, my Lord, as soon as I get home, I will inform their father about everything we discussed, and you will hear from me over the phone."
I said, "Alright, that's fine. Thank you so much. May Allah preserve our bond."
By God's grace, it didn't take much effort with Idris; he agreed. Sahura called me on the phone telling me to send someone to pick up the girl because her father had agreed, assuring me that he was happy about it because, knowing my character, he was certain his daughter would have a proper upbringing.
I was very happy about Yusura's return to my care. Naturally, the girl had been trained to work from the beginning; at fourteen years old, she knew how to do everything. However, I didn't leave all the chores to her; I assisted her because the volume of work here was not like what she was used to at her home—there was a lot of it here. On the days it wasn't my turn to cook, if I went out to greet the women of the house and returned to my section, I wouldn't go out again. The children and I would immerse ourselves in work completely; only school and prayer times would make us stop.
Before you could say jack, my business expanded rapidly. Every week I would assemble more than thirty sets of bundled clothes to be sent to Maiduguri. Where I used to count two, three, or four hundred thousand in my account, I moved to counting millions. The whole situation began to frighten and amaze me. I just kept telling myself that 'Allah works in mysterious ways to align one's affairs.'
The day we woke up to the first day of Ramadan, Baba Sule arrived at the house. He usually came from time to time with his financial problems, and I would take out money and give it to him. This time, however, he came with a request for me to buy him food supplies, because Usaini had allegedly told him that my business ventures had opened up now, and that I lacked nothing in my matrimonial home, since everyone could testify that Alhaji Muntari's house was well-provided for in terms of food and clothing, with no hunger. According to him, the efforts I was making would only exhaust them while they were still alive, whereas I would get divine rewards.
I knew his selfish intentions all too well; otherwise, what would make him keep coming to ask for money, even investigating my financial status? I looked at him closely and said, "Baba, go back home. In sha Allah, I will send food supplies to you and our father. I already intended to do so. But for God's sake, please reduce your visits. As you can see, I am not alone in this house; I have co-wives, and I don't want this to cause problems for me."
He said, "Alright, I will reduce my visits if you know what is right. Since I was the one who arranged your marriage to Alhaji Muntari, it's only proper that I should have a share from you, but instead, I have to beg you. You should think about it."
I said, "I don't really get anything from this man, Baba. For God's sake, stop this talk. Every act of kindness I show you comes out of my own pocket. Therefore, for God's sake, keep your distance; I don't want anyone to tarnish your dignity."
With great effort, I reasoned with him, and he set off after I took out five thousand Naira and gave it to him for transport fare. Five days after his visit, I finished putting everything together. Then I began to think about how to take the items out, because the women of the house might suspect that I had taken their husband's goods, since he kept a large stock of them. At night, they were brought into my room while each co-wife was in her respective quarters, so I decided it was best to move them out at night. I called Usaini on the phone and told him to come with a tricycle (Keke Napep) to carry them and deliver to everyone, and I added thirty thousand Naira on top for each.
Unluckily, at the time Usaini came to pack the items, the master of the house was around, sitting outside with his friends having their post-fasting refreshments. Usually, once they performed the late-night prayers (Asham), they would disperse, which was why I told Usaini to come after the Asham prayers. Ten minutes after Usaini left, he entered the room. We were all sitting with the children in the parlor; I was cutting some fabrics while they were watching television. He sat on a chair, and they took turns greeting him and wishing him a blessed fast-breaking, to which he replied half-heartedly. I raised my head and looked at him. There was no warmth on his face; the way he sat showed he wanted to talk to me, but the children were present.
I looked at Yusura calmly and said, "Go to the bedroom and watch TV there since there is a TV." They got up quickly, and I put down the scissors in my hand. I said, "Hope you had a blessed fast-breaking."
He looked at me. "Same to you. Who was that who just left with bags of rice and spaghetti?"
"It was Usaini, my younger brother. I bought them for Baba and the others."
He stared at me for a full minute before saying, "Where did you get the money to buy these food supplies, Amina? Everything is included there; those items amount to nearly three hundred thousand Naira given how expensive life is nowadays."
I laughed and said, "So you look down on this business I do? I swear by Allah, I bought it with my own earnings in search of divine rewards."
He scowled. "Frankly, I don't believe you. If you buy something with your money, then you must be touching mine that I keep for you. If you had been patient, I distribute fast-breaking items to my in-laws every year anyway."
In my heart, I thought, 'Here we go.' The heart has no bones; from the way he sat, I could already sense suspicion written all over his face.
I said, "Well, Allah is our witness, and He will judge us based on the suspicion you have leveled against me. I will not argue with you in this holy month, but I leave you to Allah."
After that, I didn't say another word; I picked up my scissors and continued with my work.
Feeling deflated, he got up and walked out, saying nothing more to me.
No matter how hard I tried to steel my heart and continue treating this man well, I failed. Whenever I looked at him, anger would consume me. I was merely living with him; to this day, I feel no love for him in my heart, yet he had the nerve to talk down to me.
He started making subtle moves to reconcile, but I ignored him. It was with great difficulty that he won me over, and I loosened up around him while he kept insisting that he wasn't accusing me, but that it was merely a slip of the tongue... ✍️
This passed, and for some days, nothing else happened, since I was doing my absolute best to fulfill my duties to the master of the house and my co-wives on every turn of my cooking days. Yusura was helping me immensely with some chores, and Iyami was also doing her best. During the last ten days of Ramadan, business became very hectic. Ya Falmata brought another huge batch of work for me, with the condition that they were needed before Eid (Sallah). I could see nothing but the influx of money I stood to gain. For this reason, I denied myself any comfort; I couldn't even sleep properly. Right now, I have two sewing machines—I operate one, and Yusura operates the other since she has started learning some techniques under my guidance. Kamalu and Yusi are busy arranging rhinestones and other embellishments.
On my cooking days, I hand over the reins to Iyami, even though I know this is contrary to the household rules. Her duties are strictly limited to sweeping and washing dishes, as well as running errands, but as for me, I left even my cooking to her, having agreed with her that I would give her two thousand Naira daily whenever she was leaving. As for Yusura, by late afternoon, I would wake her up to peel and fry yam; I made her responsible for that task.
Anti Maimuna never reacted, except that when the cooking was done, she would come and scoop her portion of food. There were no complaints between us; she suppressed her grievances even when she saw something she didn't like. Despite being the senior wife, she never sought trouble with any of us, which was the exact reason I bought fifteen yards of expensive polished cotton fabric (Shadda). I gave seven yards to be tailored for Kamalu and Yusi, and I intended to make beautiful matching outfits for her and Yusura, even though the master of the house had bought three sets of clothes for them. He didn't treat Yusura and Kamalu any differently from his own children, which gave me further encouragement to do this for his daughter, considering the respect and tolerance her mother always showed me. More importantly, the girl loves Yusi dearly; whatever she says, she mentions "Yusifa."
Today, shortly after breaking the fast, while I was in the bathroom, I heard Jamila's voice shouting in my parlor.
I quickly scrubbed my body, poured water over myself, and came out. I was doing everything in a rush because it was my cooking day, and I didn't want the master of the house to come in and find me disorganized. I had already realized he had been frustrated with me for the past two days because he always caught me sleeping whenever he finished his evening gatherings and came inside. On my cooking days, he got nothing from me due to the extreme fatigue I experienced. That was why I got off the sewing machine early today, wanting to please him.
She was standing there, shouting at Yusura. The girl stood silently, her eyes filling with tears. I was deeply irritated. I said, "What is all this, for God's sake? Why confront this young girl, saying all sorts of things to her? Is she living in your space in this house?"
She looked at me before saying, "But you must know that what you are doing is wrong. How can you assign this young girl tasks she cannot handle? If Maimuna cannot speak up to you, wallahi, you can't push me around. It is impossible for us to keep eating food with a foul smell, because the yam this girl prepares is never properly fried; my children and I always throw it away. Wallahi, it cannot continue. The master of the house must hear what is happening so he can nip this problem in the bud early."
I said, "Then go ahead and tell him. He is right outside, not far away. When he comes in, make him divorce me, or let him chase Yusura away just because her fried yam is supposedly undercooked."
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he walked in. Seeing her standing there, he said, "Even during the fast, you people must bring drama into my house. What is it again?"
She began explaining what brought her there. He looked at me and said, "Amina, Jamila is not lying. This yam is undercooked and smells raw; today, even I couldn't eat it, wallahi. Not to mention the embarrassment you caused me in front of my friends. So, all along, you weren't the one doing the cooking?"
I remained silent and didn't argue. He turned to her and said, "Go back to your quarters, I will handle this matter." She turned around and left without saying another word.
As he stepped fully into the parlor, I hardened my expression again. The children got up and left the area.
He said nothing to me and walked into the inner bedroom. Two minutes later, I heard him ask, "Where did you keep the dates I brought in the other day?"
Sullenly, I replied, "Check inside the wardrobe."
My heart pounded violently as I remembered what I had hidden in that wardrobe. I quickly got up and walked into the room, only to find him standing there holding the pack of contraceptive pills in one hand, and the containers of dates in the other.
My body went completely cold. With my head bowed, I walked toward him.
He looked at me and shook his head. In utter shock and bewilderment, he said, "Contraceptive pills in my house, Amina? So you have been betraying me all along. Here I am, wasting my efforts trying to get you pregnant while you take pills to flush it down the drain. Did you enter this marriage with this intention, Amina? Why did you accept to have children with your former husband who didn't have a dime, while you avoid starting a family with me, whom Allah has blessed financially? Especially when I told you before our marriage that I am a man who desires a large family."
Deflated, I said, "Wallahi, it's not like that. I only did it so that both you and I could rest and enjoy our honeymoon period. Why would I avoid having children with you when you have a good lineage and Allah has blessed you? If I did that, it would be ungrateful to Allah. Please, forgive me."
He showed no leniency, saying, "You've been in this house for eight months, Amina. For God's sake, tell me what honeymoon you are talking about. Before you spent even two weeks in this house, you stopped giving me attention, even though you know I am a man with physical needs. You prioritize your quest for money over everything else. Frankly, this matter will not stop between just the two of us. Your guardian, Sule, must hear what is happening, because this is an act of deception."
Hearing this, I burst into tears, saying, "Please, do not expose this matter. Wallahi, I will change. As for the medication, I will stop taking it from today. Please forgive me, I won't do it again."
I cried bitterly, even wiping away tears and mucus. His heart softened; he pulled me close, and we sat on the bed as he said, "Since this is the first time, I forgive you, and you have promised not to repeat it. But tonight, I want special attention from you because I am in great need of you."
I quickly said, "In sha Allah, I promise never to take the pills again, and I will always give you attention." He shook his head, looking at me with a knowing, subtle glance.
His quick understanding and lack of grudge-holding made me feel I could continue living with him, even though my heart hadn't completely trusted him yet.
The outfits I tailored for Salimat drove Jamila crazy. She came out hurling insults and looking for trouble, calling Anti Maimuna and me hypocrites. Neither of us paid her any attention. This frustrated her even more, and when the master of the house returned, she reported it to him. He came in asking me about it, and I told him it was true—I had made matching outfits for Salimat and Yusura.
He was quiet for two minutes before saying, "You too, Amina, you don't like peace. Why can't you extend the same kindness to Jamila? If you had made one for her child too, she would have been happy."
To prevent the argument from dragging on, I said, "May Allah spare our lives to see next year, then it will be done. But tell her that when she came out earlier insulting us, it wasn't fear that kept me silent; it's only because we are in the holy month of Ramadan. Wallahi, if she ever insults my parents again, I will beat her up."
He laughed and said, "Do you really think Jamila can be beaten by you?"
I said, "It's a very easy task." He then got up and left, laughing while saying, "Amina and drama."
The day after Eid, Yusura went to her parents' house because even before the festival, she had told me she wanted to spend it there. Kamalu persistently begged and pleaded until he gave up; he wanted me to let them go to Gwaggwo's house to celebrate Eid there. I refused because I didn't want anything to connect him with that neighborhood again unless I was with them, let alone risk them crossing paths with Saminu. He reluctantly accepted. Since he didn't really get along with the other children in the house, he became quite restless. Yusi, on the other hand, was over at Salimat's quarters; he even took his baths there, and all his Eid clothes were kept with her. It was Anti Maimuna who pressured me into letting him join the household children to visit their grandmother, Hajiya Dogara, who is our husband's mother. I couldn't refuse her, because I genuinely respected her given how well she treated me in the house. Kamalu was overjoyed, jumping up and down, while Yusi laughed heartily at him. Before they left, I scolded him severely to be careful, watch his behavior, avoid acting recklessly, and stay away from Turzumi since they were not on good terms. He promised me he would be careful.
However, I had initially hesitated to let him go to Hajiya Dogara's house due to the past accusation she made about him stealing from her.
They returned home thoroughly demoralized because while they were there, Turmuzi had gathered the neighborhood children, pushed him around, and chanted "Thief!" at him.
The terrified way he walked in was what confirmed to me that something was wrong. The moment he sat down, he burst into tears, with heavy tears streaming down his cheeks.
I could hear the commotion from the other household children outside, with Jamila's voice rising above the rest. Salimat and Yusi walked in. She sat down dejectedly and said, "Wallahi, he didn't take any money from Hajiya Dogara. I don't even know where she got the idea that he steals. In fact, from the moment we got to the house, he didn't even sit inside; he was sitting by the front door. It was only when we were about to eat that I asked for him to be called. Yet, the moment she opened her bag and saw a one-thousand-Naira note missing, she claimed he was the one who stole it. It was only when we were about to leave that she looked under the mat and found her money—it turned out that was where she had placed it.
But she kept quiet and didn't clear his name, even though she could hear Turmuzi gathering children to chant at him. She didn't stop him, nor did she tell him that she had found the money."
I gave a bitter smile and said, "Salimat, just go back to your quarters. May Allah make things better."
She got up, looking entirely deflated, and walked out.
Yusi looked at me, his voice trembling as he asked, "Mama, why does everyone hate my big brother?" Then he burst into tears and lay down flat on the carpet.

Story Summary

The text continues the domestic and financial journey of Amina, a resilient woman navigating a complex polygamous household. Amina's tailoring business experiences an extraordinary boom, with her account balance skyrocketing into millions. To manage the massive workload, she secures the assistance of her friend Sahura’s young relative, Yusura, who moves into the house.
However, Amina's success breeds intense jealousy and friction. Her co-wife, Jamila, orchestrates a confrontation over Yusura's domestic help, leading Amina's husband, Alhaji Muntari, to discover Amina's secret use of contraceptive pills. Muntari is deeply hurt, accusing her of betrayal since he desires a large family, but he ultimately forgives her after she promises to stop and prioritize him. Tensions peak during Eid when Amina's son, Kamalu, is falsely accused of theft by Muntari's mother (Hajiya Dogara). Although the money is found under a mat, the family allows a neighborhood bully (Turmuzi) to publicly humiliate Kamalu, leaving Amina's children traumatized and weeping over the unfair hatred targeted at their family.

Original Story Description & Themes

• Genre: Hausa Domestic Drama / Polygamous Fiction (Kishiyoyi Narrative).
• Setting: A traditional, bustling upper-middle-class polygamous household in Northern Nigeria during the holy month of Ramadan and Eid.
• Core Themes:
  • Polygamous Rivalry & Gaslighting: The plot captures the toxic side of co-wife dynamics (Kishinci), where Jamila uses minor domestic errors to sabotage Amina, and family members weaponize false accusations against Amina's children.
  • Female Financial Empowerment: Amina’s transition from calculating thousands to managing millions through her independent tailoring business highlights self-reliance within a matrimonial setup.
  • Reproductive Autonomy vs. Marital Duty: The discovery of the contraceptive pills highlights a major cultural clash—Amina seeks space to stabilize her life and career, while her husband views childbearing as an absolute marital obligation.
  • Maternal Protection: Amina constantly shields her children from ancestral biases and neighborhood hostility, showcasing the heavy emotional burden borne by mothers in fractured domestic environments.