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Page 1
A little girl who could not have been more than five years old ran into the house shouting, "Mama! Mama! Mama!"
A beautiful woman who looked no older than forty emerged from the kitchen. "Auta, what is the meaning of all this shouting?"
Through childish tears, the little girl began to speak: "Mama, you sent me on an errand, but Khalid snatched the money and refused to give it back!"
"Didn't I tell you not to play with him because you know he is older than you?" Mama asked, looking at her weeping youngest child. "Alright, stop crying. Let me call your older sister so you both can go and get it back, okay?"
Auta happily wiped her tears and said, "Okay, Mama!"
Mama walked straight into the parlor and raised her voice. "Fanan! Isn't this sleep of yours enough yet? Get up and come see me outside."
Peering into the room to see who this Fanan was, I saw a moderately sized, modestly furnished room belonging to a decent, middle-class family. A gorgeous young girl of about eighteen was lying on the bed. She wore short boom shorts and a sleeveless top, with her long, raven hair cascading all the way down to the small of her back. As she stood up, I finally got a good look at her. She had a chocolate complexion, large expressive white eyes, a sharp nose, and a small, delicate mouth. Her lips were naturally reddish, as though she wore lipstick. She was tall—not the type to wear low-heeled shoes—with full breasts that seemed ready to burst out of her top and well-defined hips. Mashallah! Given her stunning physique and figure, you would never guess her young age. She was a first-class beauty.
She walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on her face and shake off the remnants of sleep. About ten minutes later, she stepped out, drying herself with a small towel. Remembering Mama's summons, she quickly got dressed. After smoothing lotion over her smooth skin, she slipped into a long material gown, grabbed her hair oil, brushed her hair, and managed to gather it into a ponytail secured with a hair tie. She spritzed on some perfume, threw on a knee-length hijab, and—Mashallah!—she looked completely stunning.
Stepping out, she found Mama sorting out rice grains for the evening's tuwo. In a soft voice, Fanan said, "Mama, here I am."
Mama raised her head and whispered a silent prayer: Mashallah, my daughter. May Allah bring you a good husband. "Ah, yes. Earlier I sent Auta on an errand, but Khalid took the money she was carrying. Please go find out what happened, collect the money from him, and buy the soup ingredients. Don't take too long—evening is approaching."
With her signature radiant smile that only enhanced her beauty, Fanan replied, "Alright, my Mama, let me go check."
Page 2
Fanan walked out with a calm grace. Stepping outside, she spotted Khalid playing near the front of their house. She walked right up to him and asked, "Good boy, what happened between you and Auta that made you snatch her money?"
"Anty Fanan, she started teasing me first!" Khalid replied. "I was going to beat her up, so she ran away. Her money fell on the ground, and I just picked it up." He finished speaking while handing the money back to Fanan.
She took it from his hand and said to him, "I know Auta loves to tease, but next time she does something, go inside and report it to Mama instead, okay?"
"Alright, Anty Fanan!"
She turned to complete the errand Mama had given her. Just as she finished buying the items and reached out to hand over the money, someone crept up behind her and covered her eyes.
Laughing, Fanan said, "Come on, Malam, take your hands off my eyes. Did you really think I wouldn't recognize who it is?"
A giggle came from behind her. "Hehe, bestie! I actually thought you wouldn't know." Amira walked around to face her and asked how everyone was doing. "Everyone is fine, thank you! Amira, did you go to the hospital today?" Fanan asked, studying her close friend.
"Yes, bestie. What stopped you from coming today? The nurse-in-charge kept asking about you, and I told him you had a migraine, which is why you stayed home."
Fanan let out a deep sigh before explaining, "Honestly, bestie, I was so exhausted today. I slept heavily and decided to just wait and go tomorrow instead."
"Ah, true! You've really been resting, bestie—look at how chubby your cheeks are getting!" Both of them burst into laughter.
Walking side by side, they chatted cheerfully. Fanan and Amira had been best friends since childhood; they attended school together and lived in the same neighborhood.
Arriving home, they stepped inside with greetings on their lips. Amira respectfully greeted Mama with a bright, welcoming expression. "How are your mother and Hajiya? Is everyone well?" Mama asked, before looking around. "By the way, where is my little troublemaker, Auta? I don't see her."
Mama burst into laughter. "That little troublemaker is in her room putting on makeup!"
Amira laughed. "Oh! I better run then, because if I stay, her makeup will probably scare me away!" 🤣
"Are you talking about the baby of the house like that?" Fanan teased playfully.
Mama smiled. "Both of you will explain yourselves later."
Fanan walked over to Mama, handed her the soup ingredients, and explained the minor incident between Khalid and Auta. Mama shook her head and muttered, "May Allah guide you, Auta." Both girls chorused, "Ameen."
They retreated to the bedroom. Amira chattered away about what had happened at the hospital that day. As they sat together on the bed chatting, Amira suddenly asked, "By the way, where is Yaya Usman today?"
"Honestly, I haven't seen him since I woke up either. Maybe he hasn't returned from work yet, because sometimes he comes back with Baba," Fanan replied.
Fanan stripped off her hijab and upper clothing, feeling as though she might melt from the oppressive heat.
"Bestie, you always amaze me," Amira said, turning to look at her.
"What do you mean, bestie?"
"Well, you act like clothes are suffocating you! You can never stand wearing heavy clothes or getting any breathing room; you always strip them off."
Fanan let out a delightful, infectious laugh. "Honestly, even I find it annoying, except when you're around to notice. I just hate wearing anything that makes me feel trapped."
"Uh-huh, bestie! Just wait until you get married and your husband has to deal with this..." Amira teased mischievously.
"Amira, may Allah guide you! You're incorrigible," Fanan laughed.
Just then, Mama's voice boomed down the hall: "Come and collect your food!"
Fanan stepped out wearing just a wrap tied securely around her chest. Mama took one good look at her and said, "Fanan, are you alright? What kind of grown woman goes around dressed like this?"
Pouting coquettishly, Fanan whined, "Haba, Mama! How old am I that you're calling me a grown woman?" She stamped her foot playfully.
Mama simply shook her head in sheer disbelief. "Goodness gracious! And you're my lastborn—just wait until someone comes to ask for your hand in marriage. Get out of my sight and go get the food!"
Laughing, Fanan picked up the food tray and hurried back into the bedroom to set it down. They both said "Bismillah" and dug in.
In the middle of their meal, Auta bounced into the room carrying a pack of pure water. Amira glanced up to speak to her, but suddenly shrieked, "Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un! Are you guys seeing ghosts, or is this real?!"
Fanan jerked her head up in a panic, almost ready to bolt. The makeup Auta had applied made her look straight out of a spirit realm—her mouth wide open in a comical grin as she stared at them. Both older girls froze, staring wide-eyed.
Finally, Fanan found her voice. "Auta, please, I'm begging you, stop applying this makeup! If you go out looking like this, people will think you're no longer human. Who taught you how to paint your face like this?"
Amira burst into renewed laughter from behind her.
Auta stepped closer and asked innocently, "Do I look nice? Or should I add more lipstick? Maybe some eyeliner too, Anty?"
At that, the girls burst into fresh fits of laughter, clutching their sides. Overwhelmed and hurt, Auta turned and ran out of the room crying.
Calming down their laughter, Amira asked, "Anty, should I add some lipstick too?"
Fanan shot her a playful glare. "I swear to God, if I didn't already know Auta from home, I would have sworn she was a jinn!"
"Classic baby of the house," they chuckled.
Shortly after finishing their meal, they heard the greetings of Baba and Yaya Usman entering the parlor. The girls quickly threw on their hijabs and stepped out, squatting respectfully to greet Baba.
With a teasing twinkle in his eye, Baba said, "Today I am not going to answer your greetings because you two bullied my little darling before I came home. She complained to me about how hard you laughed at her just because she showed off her makeup!" He chuckled warmly as he finished.
The girls giggled, and Yaya Usman chimed in, "As for me, Baba, I was actually planning to run away because today's sight really shook me to my core!"
Laughing, Baba replied, "Even if you run, you'll eventually come back—nobody escapes." Turning to greet Amira respectfully, he asked how things were at her home.
"We are doing very well, Alhamdulillah, Baba," she replied politely.
"Good to hear. And how is the hospital? I hope you girls are doing what you're supposed to do and not getting distracted by foolishness."
"Insha Allah, Baba," they chorused.
"Mashallah. May Allah assist you and grant you success in all your endeavors," Baba prayed.
"Ameen, ya Allah," they responded.
The girls stood up. Amira bid them goodnight, as she needed to head home. She stopped by the kitchen where Mama was helping pack up Baba's remaining food to say her farewells.
"Alright, Amira, greet your family for me," Mama said warmly.
"I will, Mama," Amira replied.
Fanan walked her out to the front gate since their houses were very close. When Fanan returned inside, she spent some time in the parlor with Yaya Usman, chatting away in an atmosphere filled with love and warmth.
Page 3
"Alright everyone, stand up and go perform the Isha prayer," Baba instructed as he and Yaya Usman left for the mosque.
Mama also retired to her room to pray. As for Fanan, because she was observing her monthly period and couldn't pray, she headed straight to her bedroom, pulled out her phone, and started playing a mobile game.
Growing tired of the screen after a while, she set her phone aside, got up, and walked into the bathroom for a refreshing bath. When she stepped out, she rubbed body lotion and perfume onto her skin, slipped into a soft pink nightgown, and climbed into bed. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts lingered on the next day—if life and health permitted, she needed to arrive at the hospital early and start her duties. With a short silent prayer, she fell fast asleep.
The Next Day
She woke up bright and early at 7:00 AM. After brushing her teeth and taking a bath, she stepped out wearing a floor-length hijab. She visited Baba's room to greet him first, then went to see Mama.
Asking Mama what they were having for breakfast, Mama replied, "Just make some Dan wake and tea."
"Alright," Fanan replied, nodding.
She walked into the kitchen, gathered the accumulated dirty dishes, washed them thoroughly, and set them aside. Then she set to work preparing breakfast. Once everything was cooked and neatly arranged, she swept and mopped the kitchen floors. After pouring the tea into a thermal flask and packing the food in a warmer, she carried everything into the parlor and checked in on Mama to let her know breakfast was ready.
Mama smiled warmly. "May Allah bless you, my daughter."
"Ameen. Let me go take a quick bath, Mama."
"Alright, go ahead," Mama replied.
Returning to her room, Fanan stripped off her hijab, needing another shower to wash away the sweat from her chores. Ten minutes later, she stepped out wrapped in a towel. Opening her wardrobe, she pulled out her official nursing uniform, handbag, and shoes, dressing with meticulous care.
She gathered her hair into a neat donut bun at the crown of her head, ensuring her signature side-swept bangs peeked out neatly at her forehead. She donned her pristine white uniform and adjusted her cap. After dusting on a light touch of powder and lining her eyes with kohl, she dabbed a bit of tinted lip balm onto her small lips, giving them a naturally reddish tint. Tabarakallah, Mashallah! She looked undeniably breathtaking.
She strapped a watch onto her wrist, wore a black underskirt beneath her crisp uniform, and threw on a short hijab that ended right at her waist. A spritz of rich perfume finished her look, and she grabbed her handbag before stepping into the parlor where the family had just finished breakfast.
Mama handed her a packed breakfast container. Fanan took a seat, whispered a quick "Bismillah," and ate a little before saying, "Mama, I'm heading out now. May Allah grant me safe travels."
"Ameen, my daughter. Your father is in his room—go greet him before you leave."
Fanan walked over to Baba's room, knocked softly, and entered upon his permission.
"Are you dressed and ready, my dear?" Baba asked affectionately.
"Yes, Baba, I'm all set."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crisp 500-naira note, handed it to her, and offered a prayer: "May Allah grant you success, my daughter."
"Ameen, my father. I'll see you when I return," she said, bidding him farewell.
As she stepped outside, she bumped right into Yaya Usman, who was rolling his motorcycle out.
"Good morning, Yaya Usman."
"Morning, Fanan. Did you sleep well?" he asked with a warm smile.
"Very well, Alhamdulillah."
"Hop on, let me drop you off."
"Thank you!" she said, climbing onto the bike.
Chatting pleasantly along the way, they soon arrived at the gates of Specialist Hospital. Yaya Usman dropped her off and rode away.
Checking the time on her phone, she saw it was 9:30 AM. She walked briskly toward the admission ward. As soon as she stepped inside, she spotted Amira hanging a intravenous (IV) drip for a patient. Fanan walked over, greeted the nursing team and patients with a radiant smile, and asked how everyone was feeling.
"Much better, Nurse," they chorused.
Fanan approached her assigned patient, who was lying on the bed. After exchanging warm greetings, she asked, "How is your body today? I hope you're feeling some relief."
The woman beamed broadly. "Oh, much better!"
Fanan offered a reassuring smile and checked the patient's medication chart, noting that she had taken all her medications on schedule—except for today's morning dose. Fanan tilted her head. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
The patient shook her head. "No, I haven't."
"Where is your husband? Hasn't he returned yet?"
Fanan felt a wave of disbelief. What kind of husband leaves his sick wife hospitalized all night and into the next day without even checking in on her wellbeing or bringing her food? May Allah fix such characters, she thought.
Noticing the sadness in the patient's downcast eyes, Fanan asked gently, "What is your name?"
In a soft voice, the woman replied, "Balki."
"Anty Balki, don't worry. Your husband will be here shortly," Fanan comforted her. "Now, what is hurting you right now?"
"Honestly, Nurse, I'm just dealing with a headache and physical weakness."
"Alright, May Allah grant you complete healing."
Just as they were talking, the patient's husband walked into the ward wearing a scowl on his face. He offered a cold greeting to Fanan, who acknowledged it while watching him with quiet astonishment.
With an arrogant and dismissive tone, he asked Balki, "How is your health?"
"I'm feeling a bit better," she replied quietly.
He didn't say another word after that. Fanan sensed underlying marital trouble here. Looking directly at him, she said, "Mister, if you don't mind, I'd like a word outside."
"Sure, no problem," he replied stiffly.
They stepped outside the ward. With utmost politeness, composure, and professionalism, Fanan began: "My brother—let me not call you by name—Mister Abdul, is this how things are done? You abandon your loved one here all by herself, with no family or anyone else to look after her, and she hasn't even eaten! Here I am ready to administer her medication on an empty stomach. Are you trying to find a co-wife for her already?" she finished with a light, teasing chuckle.
Abdul was instantly struck by a deep wave of embarrassment. Hearing the nurse point out his callousness made him realize how terribly he had behaved. He stood in silence, completely lost for words.
Seeing that her words had hit home and softened his stance, Fanan pressed on gently: "Mister Abdul, look, she is unwell. You must make an effort to take proper care of her. Above all, she is a trust placed in your care; you married each other out of mutual love. May Allah grant you a peaceful marriage," she concluded, looking straight into his eyes.
With a softened expression, Abdul replied, "Ameen, Ameen, Nurse. Thank you very, very much."
With a warm smile, Fanan turned and walked back inside, leaving him to reflect. From that moment on, Abdul hurried out to buy proper food for his wife, fed her with his own hands, and administered her medicines. Balki kept staring at him in disbelief, silently thanking Allah for bringing this positive change—and thanking Nurse Fanan, knowing full well she was behind it.
While the nurses were busy attending to their respective patients, a towering, important-looking man strode into the ward. The respectful greetings directed at him made it immediately clear he was the hospital's in-charge (Director/Head Doctor).
Catching sight of Amira, he called her over. After a brief exchange of greetings, he asked, "Where is Fanan? Did she fail to show up today too?"
"No, sir, she's here. Let me call her," Amira replied.
Moments later, Amira walked back out side-by-side with Fanan. The moment the in-charge clapped eyes on Fanan, his face split into a wide, hungry grin, devouring her with his eyes like a starving predator.
In a clipped, cold tone, Fanan greeted him: "Good morning, Doctor."
He grinned even wider, looking like a field of blooming cotton. Without breaking eye contact, he instructed Fanan, "Follow me to my office."
Fanan let out a sharp hiss under her breath. If there was anyone she despised right now, it was their in-charge, given how persistently he had been harassing her with inappropriate remarks.
"Go ahead, Fanan. Let's see what his issue is today, hmmm..." Amira whispered before Fanan turned and walked toward his office...
Page 4
Frowning heavily, Fanan twisted the handle of the office door and stepped inside with a formal greeting.
He was standing, waiting impatiently for her arrival. In his smooth, honeyed voice, he said, "Ah, Doctor Fanan, you're here."
He flashed a sickly, sleazy smile and began eyeing her up and down, letting his gaze linger heavily on her chest. Noticing his wandering eyes, Fanan snapped with a voice laced with pure disgust, "Can I help you with something? If not, I'm leaving."
Instead of answering, he closed the distance between them, lunging forward to pull her into an embrace. Fanan leaped backward, causing him to wrap his arms around empty air.
"Oh, come on now, my beauty!" he purred. "Why must you treat me like this? Don't you know how deeply I desire and love you? My greatest wish is to have you close to me always. If you just give me a chance, you'll see the kind of luxury and care I'll shower on you—better than any other woman could ever dream of!" He finished by giving her a slow, sultry wink straight out of a street-player's playbook.
A wave of intense fury and deep revulsion swept over Fanan. She felt like she wanted to choke him right then and there just to rid the world of him.
She let out a sharp hiss, glared daggers at him, and unleashed her fury: "You know, honestly, you have no shame or dignity left in this life! I know for a fact that if you have a daughter my age, she could easily be my peer—or you could even be old enough to be my father! Yet here you are, standing around spitting absolute trash. Let me tell you this right now, and mark my words: Insha Allah, Allah will never grant you success or favor concerning me! Furthermore, I pray that Allah shields every young girl from your wicked plans of soliciting illicit affairs. Allah is far greater than you!"
Even as she hurled bitter insults at him, he seemed completely unfazed; if anything, her anger only seemed to excite him further. He stared hungrily at her tiny, beautiful mouth as if he wanted to lean in and kiss her right then and there.
Without waiting another second, Fanan turned on her heel and stormed out of his office, feeling deeply regretful that she had ever chosen to work at this hospital.
Meanwhile, our dear "oga" stood right where she had left him, a fierce fire of physical desire burning hotter than ever within him. Speaking aloud to the empty room, he muttered, "Fanan, Insha Allah, I will marry you—just so I can satisfy this craving I have for you. And if you refuse me, by any means necessary, I will get what I want!"
Fanan walked out with a storm of thoughts raging in her mind about how modern men of high standing had completely thrown away their dignity and turned into common predators. May Allah stand as the judge between the righteous and the wicked, she thought bitterly.
I, standing right behind her in spirit, chorused a firm, "Ameen!" 😜
Returning to the ward, she rejoined Amira and the rest of the staff to continue their duties. Noticing her downcast and troubled mood, Amira asked gently, "My bestie, what happened? Why do you look so upset?"
Fanan let out a heavy sigh and filled Amira in on everything that had just transpired with Doctor Ib. Amira simply shook her head in disgust. "That man will never change. May Allah protect us."
"Ameen," Fanan echoed.
At precisely 6:00 PM, they stepped out of the hospital hand in hand. Crossing the street, they flagged down a commercial tricycle (keke napep). Amira gave the driver their destination: "Drop us off at Dubai Quarters."
They hopped inside, chatting lightly until they arrived at their neighborhood. After paying the driver, they bade each other farewell and headed toward their respective homes.
Exhausted from the long day, Fanan called out a greeting as she stepped inside. Auta came running over immediately, squealing, "Yay! Auta's Mama, Anty, welcome back!"
"Welcome, Auta. Where is Mama?"
"In the parlor."
"Okay," Fanan murmured, walking straight into the living room where she found Mama and greeted her. Mama warmly acknowledged her return.
Fanan flopped onto the cushion, groaning, "Mama, honestly, I am so worn out today."
Mama smiled softly. "Well, what did you expect, my delicate flower? Did you think you'd go out and come back without melting like groundnut paste?" 🤣
Fanan burst out laughing. "Ah, Mama! You always find a way to pop my balloon and kill my mood!"
They both laughed. "Alright, go take a bath and come eat your dinner."
"Yes, Mama."
She retreated to her bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed, and slowly unwrapped her headscarf. Reaching up, she untied her hair, letting the heavy dark strands tumble down to cover her face. She unzipped her uniform dress, slipped it off, and stood admiring her reflection in the mirror 🪞 for a moment before that signature radiant smile broke across her face.
Stripping off the rest of her clothes, she stepped into the bathroom to wash up. Feeling overheated, she skipped applying body lotion this time, opened her wardrobe, and pulled out a lightweight, sleeveless red maxi dress with spaghetti straps. Slipping it on along with a black head-wrap, she stepped back out into the parlor.
She spotted the food tray Mama had left for her. Sitting down, she ate until she was fully satisfied, drank a glass of water, and gathered the dirty plates to take to the kitchen. There she found Mama still cooking and happily pitched in to help until everything was cleaned up and stored away in the parlor.
After Maghrib prayers, Baba and Yaya Usman returned. They ate dinner together in high spirits, laughing and chatting happily before calling it a night.
Fanan retreated to her room, lay down on her bed, and pulled out her phone to check WhatsApp. Opening a group chat she had been added to titled "Big Boys & Girls," she let out a sharp hiss. Loathing that kind of superficial group chat, she promptly clicked "Exit Group," set her phone aside, and offered her evening prayers before drifting off to sleep.
Around 12:00 midnight, a sleek white car came tearing down the highway at breakneck speed, as if... [text cuts off]
Summary
This opening section of the Hausa romance novel Nida Patient Dina (Me and My Patient) by (Mrs. 🌹 Isham 🌹) introduces Fanan, a stunning, free-spirited, and dedicated young nurse living with her close-knit family in Dubai Quarters. The story chronicles her daily routine—balancing her duties at Specialist Hospital alongside her best friend Amira, managing household chores, dealing with mischievous family members like little Auta and neighbor Khalid, and navigating unwanted advances from her sleazy hospital superior, Doctor Ib (the in-charge). Meanwhile, the narrative weaves in moments of romance, humor, and domestic warmth, highlighting Fanan's strong moral compass and compassionate patient care, particularly when helping a neglected patient named Balki.
Comments
- Character Dynamics: Fanan's character is vibrant, balancing a playful, pampered attitude at home with strict professionalism and moral backbone at work. Her bond with Amira and her affectionate family dynamic provide a comforting backdrop.
- The Antagonist Tension: The introduction of Doctor Ib adds immediate conflict and tension, setting up future dramatic obstacles regarding workplace harassment and ethics.
- Cultural Authenticity: The story captures everyday northern Nigerian urban life, family interactions, neighborhood dynamics, and popular Hausa literary tropes with engaging humor and warmth.
Conclusions
- Nida Patient Dina establishes an engaging blend of medical romance, family drama, and moral integrity.
- The narrative effectively hooks readers through relatable characters, lighthearted comedy (such as Auta's makeup disaster), and suspenseful setup regarding Fanan's looming conflict with her corrupt workplace superior.
Keywords
- Nida Patient Dina
- Mrs. Isham
- Hausa Romance Novels
- Contemporary Hausa Fiction
- Fanan and Amira
- Specialist Hospital
- Medical Romance
