Dingishin Kwado Book 2 Complete Hausa Novel

He didn’t wait for me to speak; he went into his room quickly to avoid the sharp look I was giving him.

For a long time, I sat there, my heart repeatedly heaving. Although I had never spoken to him about the money he spent, this time I couldn’t remain silent.

In the past few days, he had withdrawn over 150 [thousand naira], and it was the store that took it, a sure sign he went shopping for her. Today, he withdrew nearly the same amount—all within one week—after he had previously spent on household items. Today, he withdrew again, aside from small amounts he would give to others, always showing generosity to his friends and anyone who desired it.

I quietly went to my room to splash water on myself, hoping to revive my senses.

I applied lotion (Oriflame coconut). It was the one Aisha Lame had chosen for me. I really enjoyed using it, especially how it made my skin soft and smooth. I trust the products she sells, and she has a gift for understanding all skin types, knowing which oil suits everyone. Just by looking at you, she can tell which one will suit your skin.

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I just used a roll-on, then put on my cotton sleepwear, which I had bought from Umm Asalah +201121544627 +2349162662750, along with my perfume. I wore my long gunis hijab to go out.

I peeked into Amrah’s room and found her looking at her phone. I handed it to her, and she passed it to me without hesitation, because it was the rule that she couldn’t have her phone before 10 a.m. at school. Children were only given phones once, and I wouldn’t allow her to keep one until she finished secondary school. The dangers of a phone for a child her age far outweighed the benefits. Even as she was 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 couldn’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, lying on her bed—the first one. She was sleeping peacefully. Whenever she slept or smiled in her sleep, she reminded me of Abida, even though she wasn’t 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.

Leaning, I found him with his phone in hand. I sat on the edge of 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. Surprisingly, I did not feel an overwhelming surge of love for him, yet the anger I felt didn’t make me hate him either; only the edges of his love began to soften.

He averted his eyes to avoid my intense gaze, which carried heavy 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 genuinely 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 fear that 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?”