Takaicin Wasu Book One Complete Hausa Novel
She hurried through the wilderness with her young son tightly wrapped in her arms.
There was almost nothing around them except the enormous abandoned construction site of what had once been intended as a major building-material manufacturing company belonging to the famous wealthy businessman, Admiral Rotarian Escapedes Sarkodie.
The entire place now stood in ruins, as though its history had been completely erased and forgotten.
She entered the abandoned company compound together with her son.
Both mother and child were naturally beautiful, possessing the kind of striking appearance people sometimes described as a special gift from Allah.
But extreme poverty, suffering and layers of dirt had almost completely hidden that beauty.
Only their thick dark hair and the little glow still remaining on their skin could reveal that poverty had not always been their natural condition.
They had not been born into this miserable life.
Destiny had brought them here.
The wilderness was so far away from the main city that travelling there on foot could take more than thirty days.
She could never forget that journey.
Two years earlier, she herself had walked all the way to this place, determined to fulfil the final instruction given to her by her husband and to protect their son — the only precious treasure they still had left in the world.
Mother and child settled inside a small shelter within the abandoned company.
The construction had remained unfinished for more than forty years.
Age, neglect and signs of collapse could be seen everywhere, even though the structure itself had originally been built with strong concrete and quality materials.
The enormous size of the building no longer frightened them.
It rose nearly five storeys high, but they had grown used to living inside it.
They had nowhere else to go.
This abandoned place had become their home.
Occasionally, travelling traders passed through the area.
There were also hunters from poor nearby villages and labourers who came to collect sand and sell it elsewhere.
Because of this, the abandoned structure had gradually become a temporary refuge for different kinds of people.
Each person occupied a separate section.
So mother and son were not entirely alone.
They lived among people who, just like them, had nowhere better to go and no clear idea what they would do if the owner of the property ever returned and ordered everyone to leave.
The open land around the building stretched widely in every direction.
Nothing usually disturbed the emptiness.
Then suddenly, a terrifying burst of thunder exploded across the sky.
A violent flash of lightning followed, splitting into two bright branches as it tore through the darkness above them.
The lightning seemed powerful enough to destroy anything that stood in its path — burning, shattering or splitting it apart.
The sudden brightness and deafening thunder terrified her little boy.
She immediately began rocking him gently in her arms.
As she held him, she sang a soft lullaby filled with extraordinary sweetness and sadness.
The boy clung tightly to her and buried his face against her chest.
Every movement revealed the powerful bond between mother and son.
Her entire attention was focused on him.
She continued rocking him until he finally fell asleep.
A gentle smile appeared on her face as she looked down at him.
She lovingly called him by the special name she had given him:
Kahraman.
The word Kahraman was a title of honour for a male in the Turkish language, especially among Muslim communities of the old Turkish world.
It was sometimes used affectionately for a cherished son, particularly one regarded as precious or exceptional to his parents.
Its meaning was simple but powerful:
Hero.
Or, in Hausa:
Jarumi.