About Kyawuna Jarabtata Book One

Kyawuna Jarabtata Book One Complete Hausa Novel opens in a quiet but
developing area of Tudun Yola, Kano. The story introduces a large family house with two
flats, many children, two wives, and a strict father whose silence and authority control
everyone around him.

At the center of the story is Du’a, a girl of rare beauty who is kept inside the house
and denied the freedom other children enjoy. She wants to go to school like her siblings,
but her father insists on keeping her at home under private teaching and religious
memorization.

The opening chapter explores beauty, protection, fear, rejection, family secrets,
emotional pain, and the loneliness of a girl who feels unloved despite being surrounded
by family.

Kyawuna Jarabtata Book One English Translation

Tudun Yola, Kano.

It was a large and fairly new neighborhood, with not many people living there yet. There
were mostly unfinished buildings still under construction, along with newly completed
houses that people had only recently moved into.

One large house was painted milk color. From the appearance of the building, one could
immediately tell that it was a family house. The compound was very wide, with a large
mango tree standing in the middle. The tree had produced many fruits, even though they
were not yet clearly visible.

There were two flats in the compound: one large main flat and another smaller flat beside
it, almost like boys’ quarters. From the look of the house, it was not a house of extreme
wealth, but it was clearly a comfortable and respectable family home.

Two cars were parked in the compound: a beautiful milk-colored bus and an ash-colored
Sienna. A security guard was washing the Sienna, and from the care he gave it, one could
tell it belonged to the head of the house. He was washing it while singing along to a
song playing from a small radio placed on a plastic chair.

The door of the smaller flat close to the main flat opened, and a young man came out. He
was dark-skinned, tall, and not very heavy-bodied. He wore a brown jalabiya and held car
keys in his hand. He put on his shoes, came down from the steps in front of his door,
and headed toward the main flat. With a greeting, he opened the door and entered.

Inside was a very large sitting room. A mature man, about sixty or fifty-nine years old,
was seated on a chair. With one glance, one would know he was the head of the house. He
was dark-skinned and heavy-bodied, holding a newspaper which he was opening and reading.

Beside him sat a plump woman, Hajiya Balaraba, who looked around forty years old. She
wore a beautiful lace outfit and was sipping tea from a cup.

Some children sat on the carpet, eating breakfast. Each had tea, bread, and fried egg.
There were three girls and two boys among them: Amal, who was fourteen; Asiya, thirteen;
Aneela, eleven; Muhammad, also eleven; and Mudasir, the youngest in the house, who was
six years old.

Looking at the children, one could immediately see their father in them, from their dark
skin to their body structure. They were all chubby and healthy-looking, the kind of
children who clearly ate good food. All of them wore school uniforms, showing that they
were preparing for school even though it was Sunday.

The kitchen door opened, and a beautiful dark-skinned woman came out. She was not very
young either, around thirty-eight years old. She wore a long beautiful atamfa dress with
stonework design and carried a tray with fine plates on it.

She made eye contact with the young man who had entered, even though the others had not
noticed him. She said,

“These children will make you late for your program, Ya Hamad.”

When she mentioned his name, everyone in the sitting room raised their heads and looked
at him. The children greeted together,

“Ya Hamad, good morning.”

Without answering them, he walked further into the sitting room until he reached Abba.
He sat beside him and said,

“Good morning, Abba.”

Then he looked at the woman beside Abba and said,

“Good morning, Mum.”

At that moment, the other woman pulled the coffee table closer to her husband, placed
the tray before him, and said,

“Your food is ready, Daddy Hamad.”

He folded the newspaper and handed it to her. She collected it, while the other woman
turned her face away. Abba put his hand into his pocket, brought out some money, and
gave it to Hamad.

“When you take them, pay their school fees.”

Then he turned to the woman beside him and asked,

“What are those girls still doing upstairs? Do they not know they are going to school?”

Quickly, she replied,

“They have already taken breakfast. Nana, Hawwa!”

From upstairs, voices answered.

Two grown girls came down the stairs. They were both heavy-bodied and looked so alike
that one could assume they were twins, though it was simply family resemblance.

Nana was the eldest. She was twenty-six and in her final year at Bayero University Kano,
studying Mass Communication. Hawwa was twenty-four and in 300 level, studying
International Relations, also at Bayero University. Hawwa resembled Hamad strongly. Both
girls wore lemon-green hijabs for their Islamic memorization class.

Their faces showed annoyance because they hated going to Islamic memorization class while
also being university students. But their father had made it clear that none of them
had the right to stop memorization, even if they were studying for a PhD.

All the children stood, said goodbye to their parents, and left. Ya Hamad also stood and
said,

“Let me take them, Abba.”

Abba only nodded because he was not a man of many words.

As Hamad left, Mami suddenly raised her head and saw someone passing quickly and entering
a room without allowing them to make eye contact. Slowly, Mami released a sigh. She had
not seen the person’s face, but even if she had been woken from sleep, she would know
who it was.

They all remained in the sitting room until Abba finished eating his reheated tuwo and
drank water.

Mum cleared her throat gently and said,

“Alhaji, let me remind you. Nana’s wedding is only three weeks after the big Sallah. The
time is already getting close. It is less than a month away. I know you have already
given money for the furniture, and you said this week you would give me money for the
kitchen items. If you give it to me and Zainab, we can go to the market today and buy
them. What do you think, Zainab?”

She was speaking to Mami, who was sitting and listening.

Mami nodded and said,

“Yes, that is true, Abban Hamad.”

He picked up water in a cup, drank again, and put the cup down. Then he put his hand
into his pocket, brought out two bundles of one-thousand-naira notes, and gave them to
Mum.

“Find someone else to go with you to the market. Zainab cannot go. She has cooking to
do, and today is Sunday; I am at home.”

After saying that, he stood and went upstairs.

They all watched him until he entered his room. Then Mum frowned and said,

“Alhaji, Alhaji. Wallahi, I have never seen a stubborn man like him.”

She stood without looking at Mami and went up the stairs into her own section.

Quietly, Mami stood, gathered all the plates, and took them to the kitchen. She called
their house help, Uwani, to sweep the sitting room and burn incense. After that, Mami
also went upstairs.

She entered her husband’s room briefly, then came out and went straight to the girls’
room. Gently, she opened the door.

The room was fairly spacious and neatly arranged. Three boarding-school-style beds were
lined up, each with its own side. There was also a wall wardrobe where everyone kept her
belongings.

Mami looked across the beds and saw that nobody was on them. She entered fully, closed
the door, then stopped suddenly in the middle of the room.

In front of the middle bed, a fair young girl sat on the floor with her back against the
bed, staring at the wall. Her head rested on her knees.

Her long silky black hair, like that of an Indian girl, poured down and touched the tiled
floor because of the way she sat. Her feet were very fair and beautiful, with long clean
nails that shone as if they were washed with milk.

“Du’a,” Mami called.

Hearing her name, the girl raised her head quickly from her knees without turning around,
because she recognized Mami’s voice.

Mami stood silently, looking at her for a while. Then softly, she said,

“When you are done crying, stand up, gather that hair of yours, tie it, wear a hijab,
and go to your father. He is calling you in his room.”

After saying that, Mami left the room and closed the door.

Slowly, Du’a wiped her face with her fair hands, then stood up. Allah had blessed her
with an unbelievable figure. Her body had a soft, graceful shape, and the long material
dress she wore fitted her beautifully.

Like the other children in the house, she also had some flesh on her body, so one could
not call her skinny. But she was not as plump as Nana and the others. She had more shape
than them.

Her hair reached her waist and looked almost like Indian hair.

When she turned slowly, one could only say: glory be to Allah, the Creator of the heavens,
the earth, and everything inside them. Even if the girl had created herself, she could
hardly have made herself as beautiful as she looked.

She was the definition of complete beauty. She was very fair, with a spotless face. Her
eyes were swollen and red from crying, something she had still not learned to stop doing.
Whenever her siblings went to school, whether western school or Islamic school, she cried.

She had a long pointed nose, pink lips, full wet eyelashes, and a delicate body shape.
Slowly, she walked to the mirror, picked up her ribbon, struggled to tie her hair, wore
her long maroon hijab, and left the room.

In her soft, melodious voice, she greeted at the door of her father’s room.

From inside, he said,

“Come in.”

She opened the door slowly and entered with her head lowered. He was seated on a couch
and watched her as she came in. She sat before him and lowered her head.

Softly, she said,

“Abba, I am here.”

He adjusted his sitting position, opened the Qur’an on his lap, and said,

“Recite your memorization for me.”

She adjusted herself and began reciting Surah Yusuf, the three pages he had given her
the previous week.

Even he did not want her to stop whenever she recited for him, because Allah had blessed
her with a very sweet voice.

After she finished perfectly, he added another three pages for her and corrected her
tajweed. Then he said,

“Stand up and go.”

She stood quietly and moved toward the door. He watched her until she placed her hand on
the handle. Then he called her calmly.

“Du’a.”

Quickly, she turned her head and looked at him, then lowered her eyes.

“Yes, Abba.”

He said calmly,

“I have already found a new teacher for you. She will start coming tomorrow, insha Allah.
Prepare yourself.”

Du’a nodded and turned to open the door. But then she slowly turned back. Without opening
the door, she looked at him. Their eyes met, and she became unable to speak. She turned
again to open the door and leave.

In his serious voice, he asked,

“What do you want to say?”

She turned slightly, lowered her head, and her heart began beating fast. She played with
her fingers nervously. She could not speak because when their father fixed his eyes on
someone, that person could almost urinate without knowing.

He did not joke at all, and his temper was sharp. All his children feared him.

Seeing that she could not speak, he said,

“I am listening.”

Her voice shook badly. Even when she opened her mouth, the words refused to come out.
She dropped her hand and began squeezing her hijab tightly. Finally, with difficulty,
she spoke softly.

“Ab…ba, why am I kept at home? Why do you stop me from going anywhere? Abba, I also
want to go to school like Ya Nana…”

She swallowed hard, and tears fell from her eyes onto her hijab. In a voice close to
breaking into tears, and filled with fear, she continued,

“Ab…ba, why do you not love me the way you love Ya Nana, Hawwa, and the others?”

“Du’a!”

She heard her name called in a harsh voice. Quickly, she raised her head toward the
direction of the voice.

It was Mami. She had come out of Abba’s bedroom, apparently having been inside all along,
perhaps cleaning the room, because she held a small cleaning rag in her hand.

With deep anger, Mami said,

“Du’a, are you questioning your father? Are you putting your father before you and
interrogating him like this?”

Du’a shook her head quickly, then burst into tears. She turned, opened the door, and ran
out of the room.

Episode Two

Angrily, Mami threw away the rag in her hand and said,

“I am going to speak to this girl. She has no shame, Daddy Hamad.”

Full of anger, she started going toward the door to follow Du’a.

Abba, who had been watching her since she started shouting, asked,

“Where are you going?”

She stopped and looked at him, unable to move.

Calmly, he pointed toward his bedroom and said,

“Go back and continue what you were doing.”

Quickly, she said,

“But…”

“No buts. Go back and continue what you were doing.”

His face showed no sign of joking, so she said nothing more and went back inside, angry.

Slowly, he opened his newspaper and continued reading. His face revealed nothing about
the true state of his mind.

Du’a ran into their room, threw herself on the bed, and cried heavily. She cried for
almost an hour before sleep overtook her on the bed.

Noise woke her from her sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat up, looking around
their room.

Nana and Hawwa were removing their clothes after returning from memorization class, both
sweating.

Softly, Du’a said,

“Ya Nana, you are back from school?”

Nana turned and looked at her while taking the wrapper she would tie before bathing.

“Yes, we just came in.”

“Welcome back,” Du’a said softly.

Then she turned to look at Hawwa, but Hawwa quickly turned her face away angrily.

At that moment, the door of the room opened. Aneela, Du’a’s younger sister, entered.
Du’a was Mami’s first child, followed by Aneela, then Muhammad and Mudasir. Mami had
four children. Mum was the mother of Hamad, Nana, Hawwa, Amal, and Asiya, making five
children for her.

Aneela did not resemble Du’a at all. If no one told you, you would not believe they had
the same mother. She resembled Nana and the others more. She was also a black-beauty
girl, beautiful and confident.

Aneela sat on the bed and looked at her elder sister.

“You cried again today because we went to school, didn’t you?”

Hawwa, who had sat on her bed and was bringing out her phone from her bag, said,

“Then she will keep crying until the end of her life because Abba said she will never
go out, not even to the gate.”

Aneela pushed out her lips rudely, looked at her sister, then placed her hand on Du’a’s
cheek and said,

“Do not cry again, Duudo. Today, our teacher explained a verse to us. He said whoever
relies on Allah, then Allah is enough for that person. Rely on Allah, and I promise you
Allah will be there for you. Keep praying, and you will see that Abba will change and
say you too should start going to school like us.”

Du’a nodded slowly. Aneela smiled widely, and Du’a also smiled. Subhanallah, whenever
Du’a smiled, a person’s breath could almost stop because of how much more beautiful she
became.

“Should I bring food so we can eat together?” Aneela asked.

Du’a nodded. Aneela got down from the bed and left. Du’a also got down slowly and went
to the bathroom to perform ablution.

Hawwa glared at her. If it were a matter of getting used to it, Du’a would have become
used to it long ago. Since childhood, she and Hawwa had never gotten along because Hawwa
was born directly before her. Nana, as the eldest sister in the house, did not involve
herself in Du’a’s affairs.

Du’a came out, spread a prayer mat, wore a hijab, and began praying. At that same moment,
Aneela returned and placed rice and stew on the bed. Then she sat and waited for Du’a to
finish praying.

Hawwa stood and left angrily because Mum was not at home when she returned.

After Du’a finished praying, she sat and ate with Aneela in silence because Nana was on
the phone with her fiancé. Du’a ate well. When they finished, Aneela took the plate to
the kitchen and returned to the room.

Around four o’clock, Mum returned from the market with a full carload of kitchen items.
The children were happy to see her, especially her own children. The things were taken
to the room where her items were being kept after Abba saw them. Then both Mum and Mami
entered the kitchen and began cooking because Abba was expecting visitors from his
workplace with their families.

All the children were called to the kitchen except Du’a,