Dingishin Kwado Book 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She finished secondary school, and considering the dangers in having a phone around children her age, the risks far outweighed the benefits. Even as she was being raised carefully, hiding things she couldn’t understand, it turned out they were watching us like empty vessels because with a phone in their hands, there was nothing they didn’t see or hear.

I hated seeing her open TikTok, watching young girls post indecent and shameless content, dressed inappropriately, as if they had no memory that one day they would return to God and face the long, final rest of the grave.

I looked at Farha, who was lying on her bed, being the first one. She was sleeping peacefully. Whenever she slept or smiled in her sleep, she reminded me of Abida, even though she was not exactly like her.

I looked at Amrah and asked, “Did you make her say her bedtime prayer?”

She was just about to go in, and said, “Yes, Mahmah. Until morning.” Then she went inside, and I pulled the door closed behind her and headed to his room.

I found him reclining with his phone in hand. I sat beside the bed where I usually lay. Before I could speak, he turned off his phone and placed it on the edge of the bed.

He turned to look at me and said, “How are you feeling?”

I answered, “I feel better, Alhamdulillah!”

We looked at each other. Amazingly, I did not feel an overwhelming surge of love for him, but also all the anger I had felt did not make me hate him. Only the edges of his love began to soften.

He averted his eyes to avoid my heavy gaze, which contained weighty matters. He sighed and said, “And this look? Ever since I came back, you’ve been staring at me with your eyes. How come? I haven’t understood your behavior toward me these past days!”

I fixed my gaze on him without blinking.

He frowned and said, “Oh, today Basma came to the house. Whatever you did is fine, but I told you everything you were thinking about, and I was ready for it too.”

I swallowed my irritation and said, “I noticed the signs earlier.” I adjusted my seating and said, “When I saw the message from H.M.H. Store that money had been deducted from our account, I thought you bought thousands of things for me. I restrained my hunger, waiting for you, then when I saw you, I lightly tapped my hand on your thigh.”

He was truly shocked by my words. He said, “It’s Bilkisu. I had been warned I’d face this, and here I see it for myself. Speak up: are you satisfied with the lectures I often give you to stop mixing your pocket with mine, because yours is valuable?”

For the first time he said that, and I didn’t falter or feel afraid he didn’t understand me. I smiled faintly and said, “It’s not that mine is heavier. Maybe she is instilling a little fear in me to prevent me from falling into recklessness and ruin.”

He looked intently at me, trying to understand my seriousness. I returned his gaze without fear or malice.

He said, “You mean I am taking the pain for you, Bilki?”

Hearing him say “Bilki,” I knew he was uneasy. So I directly said, “Almost, because you serve those who don’t deserve it. I don’t think your heart wants to do that, but since you are human and a man, it’s not surprising if you go beyond that.”

He got angry, stood up, took his wallet, brought out my ATM card, and threw it at me. He said, “Here it is. As long as I breathe, I will never touch what belongs to you again. My worst mistake was believing I could do as I pleased with you, thinking we were already one. Whenever I had the chance, I gave you everything of true value, not the petty things you constantly give me.”

I shook my head and said, “Go, white milk, because I have not done the things you did for a girl, while you have long forgiven yourself for giving me all kinds of service over many years.”

He got angry and said, “Of course! The nature of a woman is forgetfulness and ingratitude!”

Calmly, I said, “And the nature of a man is selfishness and tyranny!” I said it sharply.

Seeing me start to get angry, he softened his expression and said, “Since I am married now, I have treated you fairly. Another marriage after fifteen to sixteen years—would that be tyranny?”

I swallowed and said it’s not tyranny. But I know that you are not in a condition to satisfy two women. Even the younger one? And your pocket is not enough for both.

Immediately he softened and said, “Before, you speculated and watched me closely. Today I assure you I am seeking marriage, which will happen soon.”

I stared at him intensely, silent, and said, “Should I only learn this now, Sahal?”

He said bluntly, “Since I didn’t tell you before my marriage, consider it respect for you.”

My face fell, my voice trembling, I asked, “Between you and God, do you have the health and condition for another marriage?”

He smiled and said, “You have no right to ask that. It’s none of your concern.”

In a quiet voice, I said, “Then I will not continue living in my house while you get peace in a place I don’t know.”

He shook his head and sighed. Then he exhaled and said, “As I said before, whatever you were thinking about me, I was prepared for it. Even Abida tolerated all my flaws, let alone a young girl like Basma!”

I said firmly, “Before, no Sahal, I loved you. I believed in your fairness.”

He nodded and said, “Time will clarify everything.”

Then he turned and lay down peacefully.

I, on the other hand, began to cry. I couldn’t stop, even without sound, feeling the weight on my chest.

It didn’t take long before he began to release tension, showing his inner calm.

I stared at him, observing everything about him, telling my heart to press down on him until he stopped breathing. Then I stood up, whispering prayers, seeking protection for my heart and mind from destructive jealousy and resentment.

I closed the door and went to my room. I sat by the bed. My eyes were dry, and my heart felt heavy. I wanted to cry to relieve the intense jealousy consuming me and coursing through my body.

Openly and loudly, I recited Innalillahi wa inna ilaihir raji’un! The candles and fans had no effect on cooling my spirit.

I moved around the room repeatedly, trying to give myself courage by honest reflection, forcing my heart to endure worry. I said openly, “I should not allow a minor upheaval to disrupt my inner peace. I believe I have endured worse. What happened in our house was more terrifying than his marriage plans, and it has passed, even without resolution. Nothing in life’s trials should surpass this emotional turmoil. And since my heart did not beat then, nothing will make it beat now.”

I prayed on the mat. I didn’t have much calmness, but I did ten rak’ahs. I couldn’t pray normally; I just kept reciting Innalillahi wa inna ilaihir raji’un, Hasbunalillahi wa ni’mal wakil.

By midnight, I was still on the mat, murmuring to calm myself because I could not bring myself to ask anything from God. At dawn, I began to wake, mustering courage to pray again properly. I didn’t stop until I completed the Fajr prayer.

I finally found relief in my mind, though I again wondered where he would place the bride he planned to marry.

My heart ached intensely remembering we were near finishing construction. Surely it was his land, but ninety percent of the building funds came from the money we had saved. We had sold a piece of land to start construction, and after the funds ran out, I had to invest heavily until only small works remained.

I spoke aloud to release my tension and envisioned the magnitude of the problem in front of me.

Seeing myself frustrated, I began to scream aloud. By God’s will, peace returned to me, as heavy sleep overtook me on the prayer mat.

I enjoyed the deep, calm sleep and didn’t wake until around 7 a.m. I was surprised I hadn’t noticed the children coming and going. Surely Amrah and Alti would have kept them away. Farha had to be persuaded before she agreed to go without seeing me.

I made ablution and knelt for prayer. Then I took a quick bath. I dressed in a light shirt. Alti gently pushed the door open, and seeing me standing after bathing, she entered fully.

Energetically and cheerfully, she said, “You’re awake, Mahmah? I’m glad you had a good sleep. Your daughter barely agreed to go to school.”

I smiled and said, “Farha, indeed. I can see it wasn’t easy for you all.”

Caringly, she said, “I made peanut porridge for you. Did you want me to fry some beans? I cooked it last night and kept it in the fridge.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you for your effort, Alti. May Allah help me thank you.”