Deen And Queen Book One Complete Hausa Novel
Chapter 1: The Journey of Yar Baiwa
Even Samira smiled and said, “Alright, I just saw you suddenly! What happened? You look all dressed up. I went to your house but didn’t see you.”
“Oh, wallahi, it was Inna who sent me to buy washing powder (Omo). You see, I am even in a hurry,” she said. “She told me not to stay long. Keep up the good work! As for me, once I deliver this, we will meet at the market, okay?” They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
She headed straight to their house. Saying her greetings, she put down the water clay pot. “Phew! Wallahi, Umma, I am so tired.”
“Hey, I don’t want any foolishness! Is it just from fetching this water that you are saying you are tired? Is the stream that far for you to say you are exhausted? Buckle up, take a bath. You see, people will soon come out from the mosque. Go to the market and buy us some groceries.”
She replied, “Alright,” entered the room, took off her clothes, wrapped a chest-towel around herself, and went into the bathroom. She took her bath and emerged, applying cream and powder. I stood by the side, watching God’s wonders as she glammed up her face with kohl and beauty dots. Oh! Laughter almost slipped out of me, but I held it in, watching Samira carefully apply her red lipstick. When she finished, she moved to the clothing section. The wrapper material wasn’t bad at all—at least to Samira, who believed she was going to look very stylish today.
Sameera was a young girl of about twelve years old. She was light-skinned, not overly pale, but having a rich chocolate tone. God blessed her with natural beauty. She had a small, delicate mouth with thin lips and pure, tiny white teeth set in a delightful row. Her eyes were captivating, carrying a naturally sleepy, attractive gaze. Her body frame was balanced—neither too chubby nor skinny. Masha Allah, she possessed the kind of beauty everyone admires. Above all, she had a sharp brain, which earned her the nickname “Yar Baiwa” (The Gifted Girl). Anything explained to her once never left her memory. She was sensible, incredibly patient, free from mischief, and naturally gifted. Unfortunately, there was only one thing Samira lacked: her parents were poor.
Yet, Samira desired Western education (Boko) deeply. Whenever she saw a city person, she would plead, “Please teach me English.” God made Sameera determined; whatever she set her mind to, she held onto tightly, and once told a thing just once, it stuck in her memory.
“Umma, I’m ready. Give me the errand list. I want to return early because I want to go meet the city guy—you know he returned today.”
“Oh, you and your persistence! May God grant you success. Here, buy me spices and sugar, okay?”
She answered, “Alright, Inna,” and walked out smoothly, unbothered by anything, until she reached the market. As she was doing her shopping, Garbati and his gang suddenly blocked her path. “Hey, Yar Baiwa!”—that was the name everyone called her.
“I’ve been waiting for you for a while now, keeping me stranded! What do you mean by this?”
She said nothing, lowered her head, and began playing with her fingers. Just then, Indo arrived, looked at them, and scoffed dismissively. “Hey, what kind of a shameless person are you? Is love forced? You keep harassing this girl, giving her no space! Wherever she goes, you follow her around like evil spirits!”
“Hey girl, mind your mouth! Mtseew!” Indo sneered softly. “Foolish behavior! Wallahi, Ilu is right here with Garbati.”
Garbati raised his hand to slap her, but Iro interjected, “Hey, stop! Her family doesn’t forgive easily, wallahi. Let’s go, since her mother-figure has arrived.”
Indo pulled Samira’s hand, and they walked away. “Honestly, aren’t you annoyed by these useless guys? You just stand there letting them bully you!”
“Well, Indo, what do you expect me to do with them? You know Garbati’s nature; he could easily frame me for something I know nothing about.”
“So you’ll just act naive until they disrespect you completely? If someone acts rude to you, speak up and show them you aren’t afraid! Otherwise, you’ll constantly feel frustrated. What if I hadn’t come by? What would have happened?”
“Nothing, except that I would have begged them.”
“Mtseew! You’re so frustrating, wallahi, Yar Baiwa! Anyway, let’s go. Escort me to buy some gingerbread fruit (magarya) for my mother.”
“Okay, let me escort you.”
They walked along chatting happily, as close friends do, forgetting the incident entirely. Indo had been Sameera’s friend since childhood; they were agemates, and their houses were not far from each other. Indo was outspoken, stylish, short-tempered, and never tolerated disrespect—which made people respect her boundaries across town. Most importantly, she had older brothers who always backed her up; anyone who picked a fight with her was looking for serious trouble.
Samira’s Pursuit of Knowledge
“Sallamu Alaikum! Inna, I am back. I am going to the city guy’s house so he can teach me some English lessons.”
“Alright, Yar Baiwa. See you when you return, but don’t stay long, okay?”
She answered “Alright” and quickly headed toward Kabeer’s house, despite her fear of his mother (Hajiya), who openly despised her. In fact, Hajiya hated seeing him around the girl. Samira could never forget the day Hajiya called her a witch: “You, always clinging to my son! Be warned!” But Samira held no grudges. Her only dream was to learn English fluently, and she was ready to endure any of Hajiya’s outbursts as long as she gained the knowledge she sought.
The moment she stepped into the compound, her heart skipped a beat, but she gathered courage and walked straight to the parlor. Hajiya was sitting with her children, Husnah and Yusrah, alongside Kamal, Kabeer’s younger brother. Upon seeing her, Yusrah and Husnah smiled warmly. “Oh, Yar Baiwa! The queen of studying! You’re already here?” said Kamal.
Hearing her name mentioned, Hajiya Kareema frowned deeply, looking stern as ever. As Samira entered, she greeted Hajiya respectfully, “Good evening, ma’am.”
“Fine,” she replied curtly, followed by a loud hiss. “Mtseew! He just arrived, and they won’t even let him rest! Must you come and bother him?”
“Haba, Hajiya, what is her offense? I was the one who asked her to come. She’s my student!” Kabeer said as he entered. “How are you? How have you been these past two days? I hope you came prepared because we have new lessons today.”
She smiled and said, “Yes, Uncle.”
“Alright, step inside and sit down while I finish eating, then we’ll begin. Husnah and Yusrah, get ready too—especially you, Yusrah, I notice you don’t focus enough.”
They pouted. “Haba, Yaya! It’s the weekend, we ought to rest!”
“Quiet! I don’t want any laziness. Get up, quickly!”
Hajiya Kareema just kept glaring at Samira. She truly detested the girl for her persistence. “Why must she learn English by force when she comes from a nobody background in a village? What will English even do for her? This girl is like a witch, keeping my son restless whenever he comes home for the weekend,” Hajiya thought bitterly to herself.
Meanwhile, Samira sat quietly in a corner, waiting for Uncle Kabeer to come out so she could learn something valuable. When he finished his meal, he came out holding a book. “Alright, students, let’s head to the garden.”
She stood up, and Yusrah and Husnah followed behind. Once seated in the garden, he began the lesson. Whenever Yar Baiwa was asked a question, she answered correctly, even without owning a lesson textbook. Yusrah struggled, while Husnah managed to keep up reasonably well. Since time was limited, they wrapped up the session quickly.
Yar Baiwa expressed her deep gratitude, bade Hajiya farewell, and headed straight home. As soon as she got home, she hugged her mother joyfully and shared everything she had learned that day. This was Samira’s routine every weekend—her ultimate goal was to acquire knowledge and lift her parents out of poverty!