A Mafarki Na Santa Book One Complete Hausa Novel
A calm and reserved young girl walked quietly along the path, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her footsteps without looking around. She had covered quite a distance when the voice of another young girl rang out behind her, shouting, “Halee! Halee!”
Upon hearing that distinct voice, even without turning around, she immediately knew it was Khady. Within two minutes, Khady caught up to where she stood waiting.
As soon as Khady arrived, she gasped out in exasperation, “Haba, Halee! You know you aren’t feeling well. How could you agree to run Baba’s errand instead of telling her the truth that you are sick? I know she would have let you rest, and I could have easily gone instead. Look at me—I had to sneak out right after she stepped into the bathroom! If you had just told her, I would have handled it. Going out under this scorching sun while you’re unwell is so unreasonable!”
Throughout Khady’s long complaint, the beautiful girl called Halee uttered not a single word. She possessed a deeply reserved, quiet demeanor. After about two minutes of silence, Halee simply resumed walking as if she hadn’t heard a thing—though she had heard every word clearly and knew Khady had indeed snuck away to follow her.
Realizing Halee wasn’t going to hand over the errand money from Baba Asabe, and seeing that her reserved nature had kicked in, Khady had no choice but to walk alongside her. Together, they made their way to the market stall to purchase the soup ingredients.
They offered a polite greeting in unison as they arrived at the stall. The elderly vendor behind the wooden vegetable table looked up with a warm, welcoming smile. He knew the girls well—especially Halee, who was frequently sent to buy groceries and run market errands.
The old man grinned broadly. “Ah, Haleematu Sadiya!”
A delicate, stunning smile broke across Halee’s face at the mention of her full name. Only one person normally called her by that name, alongside another mysterious figure whose identity she couldn’t place—yet whenever her full name was spoken aloud, a strange, deep emotion stirred within her.
The vendor’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. “How much worth of ingredients should I prepare for you?”
With a gentle smile, she replied softly, “Good day, Baba Tsoho. How are you?” Khady echoed the greeting as well.
The old man chuckled warmly at Halee’s polite deflection, admiring her deeply in his heart. She was a girl of exceptional upbringing—modest, serene, and respectful. Repeating his question, he asked, “How much do you need?”
Lowering her head modestly, Halee spoke in a voice as sweet and melodious as a flute—cool, soft, and captivating enough to send a gentle thrill through anyone listening. “Three hundred Naira worth,” she said softly.
“Alright then,” Baba Tsoho replied, packing the fresh ingredients into a black polythene bag and handing it to them. They expressed their thanks and started on their way back home.
As they walked, Khady chattered endlessly. Halee, on the other hand, was overcome with anxiety about returning home. She knew their encounter with Baba Asabe wouldn’t be pleasant; she was bound to scold Halee for taking too long. Though she was used to the scolding, today was different—a severe, pounding headache was tormenting her, making the thought of facing the noisy household terrifying.
Lost in these painful thoughts, tears silently welled up and spilled down Halee’s cheeks—a heartbreaking sight. Khady instantly noticed her sister’s distress. Deeply devoted to Halee and loving her like her own flesh and blood, Khady felt her own heart break. She tenderly wiped the tears from Halee’s eyes.
“Haba, Halee, please,” Khady pleaded gently. “Please stop crying. Seeing your tears tears my heart apart, especially out here on the road. Be patient. I know you’re troubled by wanting to know who you truly are, and by Baba Asabe’s harshness. In sha Allah, all of this suffering will soon become history, my dear Halee.”
Khady shook her head, urging Halee to stop weeping. With effort, Halee held back her tears upon seeing the genuine concern on her sister’s face. They continued walking in silence, each weighed down by their own thoughts, until they arrived at the house.
They paused nervously in front of the modest mud-and-plaster house—a typical working-class home. Standing in the entrance hall (zaure), they hesitated, debating who should step inside first to face the inevitable storm. Whispering prayers under their breath, they finally gathered the courage to enter with a soft greeting.
Their greetings were instantly drowned out by Baba Asabe’s sharp voice, already complaining about Halee’s delayed return and Khady slipping out without permission.
Halee quietly knelt before the young woman, who was no older than thirty-three years old. This was Baba Asabe—whose real name was Lauratu, but whom everyone called Asabe due to her notorious temper. Whenever her name was mentioned in the neighborhood, her fiery reputation preceded her.
In her habitually soft voice, Halee explained, “Baba, here are the soup ingredients. I didn’t mean to stay long—wallahi, we met a long queue at Baba Tsoho’s stall…”
A piercing, furious glare from Baba Asabe cut Halee off mid-sentence. Halee instantly fell silent, lowering her gaze to the floor. She avoided looking into the eyes of elders, especially Baba Asabe’s terrifying gaze. Terrified of what was to come, she kept her head bowed low.
Halee silently prayed in her heart, anticipating a harsh knock on the head, relentless scolding, and bitter taunts. A wave of profound self-pity washed over her.
Before she could process her thoughts, Baba Asabe turned her fury onto Khady for constantly trailing behind Halee whenever an errand was assigned.
“Wallahi, Hadiza, you better watch your steps!” Baba Asabe barked, her mouth almost foaming with anger. “You don’t listen to a single word I tell you! Every single day you force me to waste my breath shouting!”
Khady’s heart sank into her shoes. She wasn’t worried for herself, but for Halee, knowing that the brunt of this rage would ultimately fall on her sick sister.
“Inna, please forgive us…” Khady pleaded softly.
“Shut your mouth, useless girl!” Baba Asabe snapped back harshly. “You’re being shown care, yet you act stubborn! Every day it’s ‘forgive us’! Wallahi, try this one more time and see how I deal with you in this house! Now get inside, take off your school uniform, and go fetch the hot water I set on the stove!”
“Alright,” Khady murmured, pouting slightly. Instead of leaving immediately, she lingered, terrified of leaving Halee alone to face the aftermath. She knew Halee’s severe headaches often spiked under stress, sometimes escalating into high fevers and fainting spells.
Baba Asabe turned back to Halee, who remained kneeling on the hot concrete under the harsh sun. Tears trickled down Halee’s stunning face as her headache intensified, her body growing increasingly hot with fever…