Matar Shege Book One Complete Hausa Novel
Matar Shege Book One Complete Hausa Novel continues as the ringing of my phone woke me from sleep. The noise of people buying waina outside brought me fully awake.
Before I could think about anything else, Salim entered my mind. I closed my eyes and remembered exactly how he had looked when I saw him. I remained in bed for some time, turning different thoughts over in my mind before finally getting up.
I did not look at my phone or check who had called. Instead, I put on a small hijab and went to take a bath.
Zinatu Prepares to Leave Home
Breakfast did not concern me. After all, who would care enough to prepare something for me?
My biological mother was the only person who forced me to eat. Even when it came to lunch, I cooked my own food. I had already freed myself from Mama Saude’s humiliation over food.
Whenever I had leftovers, I would offer them to her. Without any shame, she would accept and eat them because she was quite greedy when it came to food.
I applied only a little face powder. Afterward, I dressed in a long Ankara gown and covered myself with a large matching veil. I put on my shoes, picked up my handbag and prepared to leave.
Just as I was about to step out, my phone started ringing again.
“You troublesome little thing. I had completely forgotten about you,” I muttered as I picked it up.
As I had expected, Habib was the person calling.
“May trouble marry you since you have refused to leave me alone,” I muttered before answering the call.
“Hmm!” Habib sighed heavily before speaking. “My heart almost burst, Zinatu.”
“It should have shattered completely,” I whispered.
“What did you say?” he asked.
I smiled briefly.
“Why did you not come yesterday?” I asked.
“Me, disobey your instruction? I called you, but you did not answer. Besides, you warned me never to visit without informing you first,” he reminded me.
I smiled.
“That is true. How are you?”
“I am surviving, but I am not completely fine. I swear, Zinatu, I do not think I will ever find peace until you become mine. These remaining two months feel like two years to me, and…”
I quickly interrupted him.
“Stop right there! It appears you have prepared a long conversation. I have somewhere important to go, and you are delaying me. Come tonight so that we can talk properly, all right?”
I did not wait for his answer before ending the call. I dropped the phone into my handbag, left the room and locked the door with a key.
“Where are you going again?” Mama Saude asked from the small shelter where she was frying food.
“Wherever Allah has destined for me,” I replied as I walked out of the house.
A Visit to My Biological Mother
I went directly to my biological mother’s family home. I found her sweeping her room.
After greeting her, I collected the broom and completed the cleaning for her.
“Zinatu,” she called my name calmly.
“Yes, Ummi,” I answered, giving her my full attention.
“Are you genuinely ready to get married?” she asked.
I smiled faintly.
“What have you noticed, Ummi?”
“It appears as though you are not preparing for the wedding, yet the date keeps getting closer,” she explained.
She stood up and brought me a plastic bag containing some cooking pots she had bought for me. She intended to add them to the other wedding items she had already gathered.
I smiled.
“Thank you, Ummi. May Allah reward you,” I said.
She did not answer. Instead, she prepared a cup of tea and handed it to me.
I drank more than half of it before standing and announcing that I was leaving.
“Will you not greet your grandmother before you go?” Ummi asked.
I frowned slightly because my maternal grandmother and I did not get along. Apart from my mother, I became angry with anyone who tried to tell me the truth.
I lifted the curtain covering my grandmother’s room without offering any greeting. I found her sitting and folding clothes.
Our eyes met, but I immediately released the curtain and turned away.
I raised my voice and falsely told Ummi that Grandmother was asleep.
Zinatu Follows Her Heart
I stood beside the road for some time. It was not because I could not find transportation. I was simply considering the place my heart was commanding me to visit.
Eventually, I recited the Shahada, stopped a commercial tricycle and climbed inside. I gave the driver the address of my destination.
I stopped at the exact place where I had seen Salim park his car the previous day. I looked around carefully, but there was no sign of his vehicle.
Gathering my courage, I entered the laundry with a stern expression. I did not want anyone to look down on or disrespect me.
I approached the first employee I saw.
“Please, has Salim arrived?” I asked.
The man widened his eyes.
“Who told you that he comes here every day?” he asked.
I frowned even more.
“We agreed to meet here, so I am surprised that he has not arrived,” I lied.
As I spoke, I repeatedly tapped my phone and pretended to make a call. I placed it against my ear, hissed impatiently and looked at the employee.
“Can you imagine? I have been trying to call him, but his phone is switched off. He desperately wanted to see me today. Salim can be so troublesome!” I complained.
“Let us see the number you have,” the employee requested.
How Zinatu Obtained Salim’s Number
My heart suddenly jumped, but I refused to show my fear.
“Let me see the number on your phone instead,” I replied confidently.
Without arguing, the employee searched for Salim’s contact and handed me his phone.
I felt a wave of happiness when I saw the number.
“You see? This is not the same number I have. I do not even know how many phone numbers that man owns. He behaves like a kidnapper,” I joked.
I quickly memorised and copied the number before returning the phone and thanking the employee.
I left the laundry filled with happiness, as though someone had announced that my greatest dream had finally come true.
I saved the contact as “Salim,” dropped my phone into my handbag and continued smiling.
Returning Home in a Happy Mood
I went directly to the market and bought the food items I needed. I even purchased a chicken because I was exceptionally happy that day.
When I returned home, I found Mama Saude sitting in the middle of the compound and sorting rice.
Despite the loud greeting I offered, she neither looked at me nor responded. It appeared she was in one of her terrible moods.
I smiled and entered my room without saying anything else to her.
Throughout the time I spent cooking, Mama Saude refused to look in my direction. She remained busy blowing air into her stove while her mouth continued complaining.
She repeatedly complained that she was tired of the hardship of cooking with a traditional stove.
After completing my preparations, I returned to my room. I kept my kerosene stove there because Mama Saude often stole my kerosene whenever I left it outside.
I was almost finished frying my stew when I heard her shouting my name.
“Zinatu! Zinatu!”
“What happened?” I asked from inside my room.
She pushed open the door and entered with a plastic container in her hand.
“When I noticed that you left without eating breakfast, I decided to save some waina for you,” she explained.
She placed one cold, hardened piece of waina beside me and immediately peered into the pot of stew on my kerosene stove.
I laughed mockingly.
“Mama, what does my stomach have to do with you? Is today the first time I have left home without eating breakfast?” I asked.
She adjusted her headscarf like someone trying to hide a dishonest intention.
“I only thought about it because you will soon be getting married,” she said.
“If I do not eat breakfast, will the marriage no longer take place?” I interrupted.
Her face immediately hardened.
“I do not like disrespect. Just because you see me treating you gently does not mean you should insult me. Do not eat the food if you do not want it!” she snapped.
I smiled, picked up a bowl and served some of my food into it. I handed it to her.
“You smelled the aroma of my food. You simply could not admit directly that you wanted some,” I said.
She collected the bowl and left without saying another word.
Zinatu Calls Salim in Matar Shege Book One Complete Hausa Novel
After eating, I performed my prayer and lay down. I pulled out my phone, which suddenly seemed more valuable because it now hosted Salim’s phone number.
I stared at the number for a long time before finally gathering the courage to press the call button.
The call ended without him answering.
I called a second time, but the result was the same.
Something inside me then declared that the real challenge had begun. I repeatedly called his number without stopping, as though I were playing a game and waiting to reach the final level.
I called him exactly nine times.
Just as I was preparing to make the tenth call, a message from him appeared on my screen.
I quickly opened it, expecting him to explain why he had refused to answer.
“Who is this?”
That was all he had written.
I responded immediately, as though he already knew me.
“It is Zinatu.”
Another message arrived.
“Which Zinatu? Where are you from?”
I hissed and called him again, hoping he would finally answer.
Fortunately, he picked up the call.
I softened my voice because, truthfully, I did not naturally possess a sweet voice.
“Assalamu alaikum,” I greeted.
Instead of responding to my greeting, I heard him click his tongue impatiently.
“Madam, go straight to the point. I do not have time for nonsense,” he said.
“Subhanallah!” I exclaimed silently inside my heart.
It was already clear that he intended to humiliate me.
I cleared my throat before speaking.
“It is Zinatu,” I repeated.
He clicked his tongue again.
“Did you call me simply to teach me your name? Fine, I have memorised it. What exactly do you want?” he demanded.
My heart skipped a beat as I struggled to think of what to say. Even I knew that I did not have any convincing reason for calling him.
I forced myself to continue.
“Well… I saw you yesterday when you were about to enter the laundry. I found you impressive and wanted to speak with you, but I did not have the opportunity. Then, later that night…”
The call suddenly ended before I could finish speaking.
I immediately tried calling him again, but the call would not connect. I strongly suspected that he had added my number to his blacklist.
I remained silent for a moment, wondering what to do next.
Then, as though someone had commanded me, I began typing the following message to him: