Yar Zaman Wanka Part 1 Book Compelet complete Read Hausa Novels hausa document - Maman Afrah

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YAR ZAMAN WANKA 👩‍🍼 (THE PERIOD OF CONFINEMENT)

BY MAMAN AFRAH

P 5

"Confinement?" Imran asked angrily.

"Yes, confinement! Or should I sit on your head since you’re snarling at me like an angry father, or are you going to beat me up, my Imran?" Inna said as she stood up from where she had been kneeling, holding her prayer mat.

"Haba Inna, why are you like this? Yaya Imran is like an in-law to you," Ashrof said, close to tears as she watched what she was doing to Imran in front of his friend, especially with his mother right there in the house, though Inna seemed to completely ignore them.

"Ashrofa, Ashrofa, Ashrofa, I have called you three times. Wallahi, stay out of my business! Are you my mother who feeds me daddawa that you want to restrict me? Even your mother Rakiya is too small to dictate what I should or shouldn't do."

A wave of frustration made Ashrof turn quickly and storm into the room. Imran turned and walked out of the house, while Abid turned, suppressing a laugh, and followed right behind him.

"You, this deaf boy—what even is your name that is so hard to pronounce? You said you aren't Abida? Well, whatever your name is, come and pick up this bag and take it inside the room. There’s no reason for it to stay outside and catch the cold air of the world," she said as she folded her headscarf and prayer wrapper, hanging them on a rope.

"To, Inna," Abid said, having no choice but to obey her command. He picked up the bag and entered the room with salam on his lips. Hajiya answered him. Seeing that everyone sat in gloomy silence, he didn't say anything else; he just dropped the bag and left. They all watched the bag, shaking their heads at Inna’s audacity, knowing better than to act foolishly and risk getting into trouble.

She went straight to the bathroom to perform ablution, spread her prayer mat outside, and began the prayers she owed. While praying, her ears remained tuned to the room inside.

Inside the room, Hajiya broke the silence by saying, "The big pot for boiling bath water—the kind used for naming ceremony feasts—has been brought, and it's outside with the firewood. As we originally planned with Imran, since my house is not far, I was going to come early in the morning to put the bath water on the fire and bathe the babies. Ashrof would come to spend the day, and he said he would sleep over. But now that Inna has come for ZAMAN WANKA, this plan is completely ruined," she said, looking at Mama, whose distress was blatantly clear.

"Haba Hajiya, how can you say that when we already had a plan? You know this house only consists of a parlor and a room. Where is Inna going to sleep?" Ashrof asked softly.

"I will sleep in your mother's house! I said I will sit on your mother's lap, Asharofa! Look at this shamelessness—you actually sat down to discuss me! God forbid! How many days is the confinement anyway? Life is transient; it feels like just yesterday it started. Besides, for a girl who gave birth to twins, it's only proper that Hassan’s confinement is done separately, and Hussain’s is done separately. But you people sat down debating back and forth. Well, here I am, unwavering like a white tunfafiya plant. Even if heaven and earth collide, there is no way I am canceling this ZAMAN WANKA!"

Inna, having just finished her prayers, said this while standing at the doorway. She had been praying while keeping her ears open to Hajiya and the others to find out who wanted her to stay and who was against her staying in the house.

"May God forgive you, Inna. This was a plan made before anyone even knew you were coming."

"Even if my coming wasn't known before, it is known now! And as for this Asharofa saying the house is just a parlor and a room—what's the wrong with that since there are two rooms? Let Imirana take one, and let us take the other—myself, the nursing mother, and the babies. Even if it’s just one room in this house, Imirana and I will just have to manage sleeping head-to-toe, ehe!"

Hearing Inna's words reminded Sadiya of what Imran had told her while she was heavily pregnant.

"Wallahi, I don't like this tradition where a woman gives birth and goes through ZAMAN WANKA because I don't want anything to separate me from you, even for a second. Besides, we don't have enough rooms for people to come and stay here. I will do everything for you, you and the baby, from sunset until dawn. In the morning, since Hajiya lives close by, she can come and bathe them and do what is necessary, and Ashrof can come during the day to cook."

"Halima, eat your beans and rice!"

She cut into Sadiya's thoughts as she walked over and sat down beside her, intense annoyance gripping her heart. Seeing that Sadiya ignored her, she continued:

"Oh me! Azumi, I have heard and seen it all! An old woman is being killed while still alive. You don't want the confinement done for you either? Or what? Truly, if you live long, you will see wonders! Now you, Halima, you don't want ZAMAN WANKA done for you because you're crazy? Have you forgotten your whole body is full of stitches, that they tore you apart like a piece of paper and sewed you back like a calabash, that you had seven stitches? Do you want to be left alone in the house with this deaf boy in the middle of the night so he can pounce on you and tear you apart again, making all your suffering go to waste? Just look at him, looking all rebellious with those wide eyes like a Chinese person! Wallahi, if you dare let him near the well of your body again, nobody can save you because doctors won't even be able to stitch you up since the area is still raw and fresh. Another pregnancy will enter here by next year, and I'll be right back here for ZAMAN WANKA. But while I am here, by God, not even your hand will touch it, let alone enter the well! Anyway, let me keep quiet; the stomach isn't just for eating tuwo," she said as she stood up, walked to the parlor's fridge, and started opening the nylon bags Imran brought from the hospital.

"Even the deaf boy has good taste, wallahi! He actually bought us items for a nursing mother's confinement—a good fellow! Look, she said, pointing at them, there’s liver, fruits, fried yam, eggs within eggs, and two chilled Maltinas."

"Take some!" she said, picking up a piece of liver and putting it in her mouth, while holding out the pack to them. Not a single person accepted.

"You people are living in luxury while I am running behind burning fires! Surely, when I finish this ZAMAN WANKA and go back to Malam, he won't even recognize me because I'm going to be glowing and plump! Even Tasalla will almost die of jealousy," she said, looking for a place to sit down to eat the liver, and pulling a Maltina close to her.

"You too, Halima, aren't eating? I thought so—you have that new mother's mouth that refuses to eat anything until they recover a bit."

When nobody answered her, she continued:

"Asharofa, take that Maltina of mine and open it for me so I can wash my throat down. Truly, you city people enjoy yourselves! Honestly, I was foolish to marry in the village after your grandfather's death. Malam really struck gold! If not for destiny, who would live in a city—and a city like Kano at that—that looks like a village? Wallahi, just looking at cars and storey buildings is enough to make your eyes pop! Back there, apart from the buzzing of Malam’s almajiri students giving you no peace of mind when you want to sleep, and having to cross paths with wooden writing slates, all you see are cows and animals. And if you ever see a car, it’s Alhaji Tukur’s market transport packed with people sitting on top of one another going to the market. God forgive me, all of Alhaji Tukur’s vehicles are so rusted, just looking at them is enough to blind your eyes!"

"Inna, these things were bought for Aunty Sadiya, yet you are here eating them," Ashrof said, glaring at Inna.

"Oh wallahi, you girl, you won't die a natural death in your own room; it will be by someone's hand! Well, since Halima's own is now my own, and I've eaten it, in ji didim!" she said, turning her back on Ashrof.

"I didn't say you should beat me, Inna, but you should do what is appropriate."

"Yo! It's even better if you beat me! Putting aside looking for trouble, why would a woman with a fresh birth drink cold things? She should only be given hot water! For now, there’s no cold drinks for her until her body heals many months from now."

"Take this and open it for me so I can drink it while it's cold, before it gets warm."

"To," Ashrof said, taking it and opening it for her.

"That's better for you. Indeed, living in peace is better than being a king's son," she said as she took the bottle, tilted her head, and began gulping it down, her eyes half-closed in bliss.

"Oh God who does as He pleases! Truly, a toad's portion never goes up. Honestly, if I'll keep getting this, nothing will stop me from doing three full periods of forty days—sixty days for each child! And imagine, there isn't even milk inside this! Humm, back home we only drink soft drinks once in a blue moon—during Ramadan, and I don't even mean real soft drinks, just watery koko mixed with sweetener! Malam couldn't even afford powdered juice (Vevi mis). We would be lumped together with the almajiris to gulp it down like animals! What can you do when something is beyond your means? You just drink it to quench your Ramadan thirst."

"Ashrof, go out and call a tricycle (keke napep) for me. You can see they are already calling the Maghrib prayer," Hajiya said, feeling tired of listening to Inna, though Inna’s mouth never grew tired of talking.

"Amina, when did you guys leave your house?" Inna asked, holding her chin.

"We haven't left," Hajiya Amina replied briefly.

"You mean you're still sitting over there, and you have to board transport to get here from this street? The distance isn't even that far!"

"Yes."

"Tabbɗi jam!" she said, shaking her head.

"So Inna, what is your business in all this?" Sadiya and Ashrof asked in unison.

"By the power of God, let me die before you bury me! Wallahi, I prefer walking on foot so I can look at vehicles and fine houses. As I walk, any house that catches my eye, I stop and touch it. Even if I don't have the destiny to enter such a house in this world, at least I’ve touched it with my hands! There was a time I was walking from a tricycle and saw a house completely surrounded by lovely flowers. I quickly told the tricycle rider to drop me off right there. When he drove off, I turned around and went straight to the house to stroke the flowers. A young man saw me stroking them and asked, 'What are you doing?' I said, 'Nothing, my son, I'm just touching them to leave your things behind.' He started laughing, saying I'm funny, and told me to go ahead and stroke them. That's why I hate boarding transport! When you ride transport, your money is wasted and you pass by everything in a blur without seeing a thing..."

"Ashrof, hurry up and call that tricycle; I want to leave," Hajiya said, seeing that Ashrof and the others were laughing, while her own mind was completely in turmoil because she knew Inna’s stay in the house would put pressure on her son. Imran had high needs and a strong sexual drive inherited from his father; even if they couldn't have intimacy—like when a woman is on her period—they always wanted to be close to their wives to ease their tension. That was how God created them.

"To, Hajiya," Ashrof said, stepping out of the parlor because Inna's talk about stopping to stroke houses was still making her laugh. Truly, their Inna was one of a kind.

IMRAN

Ever since he walked out of the house, he had gone to stand by his motorcycle, placing one hand on it and holding his head with the other. He felt like bursting into tears out of frustration because he knew Hajiya would inevitably allow Inna to stay for ZAMAN WANKA. But how was he going to begin life with this woman under the same roof, in the same room? That wasn't even his main worry; his single greatest concern was how he was going to sleep without his wife by his side. He knew that even if Inna drank corn beer, the moment she saw them lying on the same bed, she would unleash a torrent of insults on them. What was he going to do? Abid’s arrival brought him back from his thoughts.

"Haba my friend, why are you putting yourself under so much stress? I've been calling you three times just now and you didn't hear until I tapped you. What is so serious?"

Imran felt like hugging Abid and letting out a cry just to find a bit of relief.

"Haba Abid, what do you want me to do? This woman wants to kill me! You yourself know I got married early because I have a high sex drive. And you know right now, while this woman is here, she won't even let me touch my wife's finger! You know my character—I'm not a womanizer. Even if she just gave birth and I can't be intimate with her, I would at least want to lie close to her the way God created me."

"You have to endure it. I myself don't like this, but just leave her be."

"Wallahi, if this woman stays and Hajiya gives her permission to remain, she will regret music and learning! Wallahi, she will regret coming to my house for ZAMAN WANKA, because I won't spare her. I will do things to make her walk out of this house with her own feet..."

The ringtone of his phone interrupted his words. Seeing Hajiya's name on the screen, he made a pitiful face like he was about to cry, letting the call ring out without answering. Only when a second call came in did he pick up, knowing escape was impossible.

"Come, I want to see you," Hajiya said, hanging up the phone without waiting for a reply.

Abid bade him farewell with a prayer for God's guidance, got into his car, and drove off. He knew how hot-tempered and stubborn his friend was, and no matter what he said, Imran wouldn't listen. As Imran tried to enter the house, he bumped into Ashrof coming out. She stepped aside and walked past him. Seeing him return with an angry expression like a spitting cobra, she didn't say a word to him. Aside from the recent childbirth leaving her tongue tired—since only greetings passed through it—Inna had come and turned the joy of the birth upside down, ruining everyone's calculations.

"You people are sitting here in gloomy silence like people mourning! God forbid, even in a house of mourning people don't sit in silence anymore; everyone chats away after the dead is buried. Let alone you people who have been blessed with a double birth, even though one carries a disability, though I don't call it a defect," Imran heard Inna's voice gushing as he pushed his way into the parlor. The moment he entered, he caught sight of the plate of liver and the Maltina sitting right in front of her. He stared at her with his mouth wide open.

"Imirana, how are you looking at me? Do you want to eat? Come and take a piece of the liver and swallow your bitter saliva," she said, picking up a piece and extending it toward him.

Pure annoyance made him look away and fix his gaze on Hajiya instead.

"Hajiya, I'm here."

"Go rest with your wicked self! You're just standing there swallowing your saliva, good-for-nothing glaring in the dark! At the hospital you were shouting at the top of your lungs, but now you've turned completely deaf. If that's what you want, may God turn your calabash into a pitcher!" she said, popping a piece of liver into her mouth.

"Imran, I'm leaving. Here is Inna who is going to do ZAMAN WANKA. So I don't have to see or hear anything," Mama said, handing Hassan over to Sadiya.

"Hajiya, in the parlor and room?"

"Let me speak plain truth to you—room and parlor or just a single room, Imirana, I am going to stay! We will just manage to sleep head-to-toe. And if you feel you cannot stay, go with Amina to her house and return to your old bachelor room! Besides, what's the difference between a fight and bickering now? You're practically a bachelor anyway since your wife has given birth. If you won't go to Amina's house, then rent a shop meant for youths and sleep there!" Inna said, even clapping her hands.

"Get up let's go, I want to leave. I hear the sound of a tricycle outside; I think Ashrof has already called one. Let's sleep well, mother of Sadiya."

"To Hajiya, may God wake us up in peace. Rest from your fatigue, we are also leaving now," Mama said.

That was how she and Imran walked out...

(For those who want to join the ZAMAN WANKA WhatsApp group, contact MMN AFRAH at 09030283375)

Beelal is still fresh off the press; go find and read the story about the disabled child and a crooked home that lost its direction. Mmn Afrah's pen never writes nonsense.

(Promotional data services plug follows...)

Hajiya Amina

Ever since they stepped out of the house, she had been counseling Imran about Inna staying over, even though she knew he was under immense pressure, without showing how much it bothered her.

"Haba Hajiya, you know the character of that old woman! Even when she visits briefly it's a lot, let alone staying for a long period," he said, turning his face away because talking about it made him feel like crying due to the agony of being separated from the core of his body and soul—his Sadiya.

"Despite that, in many situations we just have to endure certain people as the only way out. There are many people whose behavior means you wouldn't normally live with them. Look, Inna is an old woman, and traditionally, postpartum confinement (wankan jego) is nothing new since it's always done. Especially since she gave birth to twins, she needs help, more so because this birth is like a first-time experience."

"Now look at all the things Inna has been doing from the hospital to the house! Is this how she's going to help her? You saw how she even ate the nursing mother's food! So how is she going to give her proper care?"

"Well, whatever the case, just keep your mouth shut. She can't possibly eat everything; there's bound to be leftovers. Besides, since you are currently on break from work (being a school teacher), you can attend to Sadiya yourself."

"To," he said, sounding reluctant.

"Imran, don't let me hear—I know your character. Now it's Maghrib, won't they bathe the babies and wipe their bodies with olive oil? As for her, because her blood pressure rose earlier when she was about to be discharged, the nurse said she shouldn't bathe until tomorrow. Even though her blood pressure has dropped, there is still swelling in her body. Let me get going," she said, seeing the tricycle driver honking at her.

"Safe journey. I'm going to the mosque to pray."

Hajiya left feeling slightly uneasy in her heart out of pity for her son and the look on his face; she knew deep down he was distressed even if he didn't show it outwardly.

After going to the mosque, performing ablution, and completing the Maghrib prayer, Imran stayed back in the mosque and refused to return home immediately.

MAMA

After Hajiya left, Mama let out a deep sigh and said:

"Inna, we are also heading home since you are here now. But you see, Sadiya hasn't eaten anything except tea water, so she needs proper food now."

"Haba Rakiya! Unless you want to shoulder my sin, how can you say that? I came and met you at the hospital, did none of you serve her food until now, and now you want to shift the blame onto me just because Inna, who is easy to ride, has arrived?"

"That's not what I mean, Inna. You know when you arrived she was sleeping, and ever since she gave birth she hasn't put anything in her stomach except the tea Hajiya gave her."

"You people are such slackers! You mean Sadiya didn't eat anything? Truly, if you live long you'll see wonders! How could a young woman go through labor and push out two children and yet be left to starve? I assumed she had eaten something before going back to sleep. And when I asked her earlier if she ate the beans and rice and she didn't speak, I thought she had that postpartum lock-jaw where new mothers can't eat anything. If I had known she hadn't eaten anything since we arrived, I would have set up a pot and cooked tuwo for her, because heavy food is what holds a postpartum stomach best," she said, looking at Mama.

"That's true," Mama said, not really wanting to, just for the sake of peace.

"So whose fault is it between you and me?"

"Ours," Mama replied.

"Aunty Sadiya, what will you eat?" Ashrof asked.

"Anything," Sadiya replied, staring closely at Hassan.

"Look at this girl with her deep endurance! Wallahi, you were hungry this whole time yet kept quiet just to be tough on yourself? You let me eat that liver almost to the point of choking on it? That's shameful! An elder eating the in-law's food on the day of birth! If I had known you wanted it, I would have left some for you. But now, here is yam and egg within egg, and fruits too. Let me feed you, eating this has become an obligatory duty for me—like breaking wind in a mosque!" she said as she stood up, served Sadiya the yam and egg, while Ashrof brewed her some tea and took Hassan so Sadiya could eat her fill. When she finished, she let out a loud burp.

"There! Now you've even burped! How can someone sit down starving? A nursing mother and a woman undergoing ZAMAN WANKA must fill their stomachs to be able to nurse what they brought into the world. That's why you'll never catch me starving myself; there's no way I'll sit around with hunger gnawing at my stomach like a district head!"

"Ashrof, go get that Zamzam water from the bag to give to Husaini, look, he's waking up..."

Summary

In these chapters of Zaman Wanka, family tensions boil over as Inna arrives to oversee Sadiya's postpartum confinement (zaman wanka). Disregarding existing plans made by Hajiya, Imran, and Ashrof, Inna aggressively takes charge of the household, sparking immediate friction with Ashrof and deep distress for Imran, who is devastated by the prospect of being separated from his wife. Despite Inna's abrasive personality, domineering attitude, and habit of eating the postpartum food meant for Sadiya, she insists on staying. Meanwhile, Imran struggles with his frustration and feelings of helplessness as he confides in his friend Abid, while Hajiya attempts to counsel him on patience. The chapter closes with Inna settling into her role, feeding Sadiya hearty food, and establishing her undisputed presence in the home despite everyone else's objections.

Description

A culturally rich and emotionally charged domestic drama exploring traditional postpartum practices (zaman wanka) in Northern Nigeria. The narrative highlights generational clashes between modern planning and rigid traditional expectations, showcasing vibrant character dynamics—from the overbearing, unfiltered, yet caring village grandmother (Inna) to the stressed young husband (Imran) and the overwhelmed new mother (Sadiya).

Analytics

Thematic Conflict: Tradition versus modern household planning; generational friction regarding childcare and postpartum care (zaman wanka).
Character Dynamics: Inna serves as the primary comedic and disruptive catalyst; Imran represents psychological and physical frustration; Sadiya and Ashrof act as the voice of modern reason trapped under traditional mandates.
Cultural Context: Deep dive into Hausa postpartum customs, dietary expectations for new mothers (heavy foods like tuwo, avoidance of cold drinks), and the social politics of extended family involvement during childbirth.

Comments

The introduction of Inna injects a strong dose of humor and chaos into what would otherwise be a tense domestic setup. Her unfiltered commentary and comedic anecdotes (like touching flowers on the street) provide a brilliant counterbalance to Imran's genuine anguish.
The author skillfully captures the psychological weight placed on new fathers and mothers when traditional extended family mandates override personal marital privacy.

Conclusions

Inna's unyielding determination to enforce zaman wanka on her own terms thoroughly disrupts the household, leaving Imran alienated from his wife and testing the patience of everyone involved. The narrative sets up a turbulent and entertaining coexistence as the family must find a way to navigate Inna's overwhelming presence over the ensuing forty-day confinement period.