Gudun Aure 1 Complete Hausa Novel

My name is Amina Malam Salisu, popularly known as “Mai Wankin Hula” (the cap washer). I am a professional tailor and also a government primary school teacher. I teach Hausa language to children at a primary school in Gwale Local Government. I am currently a widow with two children, both boys. The elder one is named Kamalu, and his younger brother is Yusuf, whom we call Yusi. Their father passed away four years ago, when Yusi was seven years old. The age difference between him and his brother Kamalu is just one year. Their father, may Allah have mercy on his soul, and I believe that I became pregnant with Yusi shortly after Kamalu’s naming ceremony. The gap between them is not much. Kamalu is now twelve years old, while Yusi is eleven.

After the death of Yaya Aminu, the father of my children, I returned to my family home because the house we lived in together was rented. This was due to his lack of strength and the absence of a stable source of income on his part. By Allah’s grace, the room my siblings and I once lived in was still available, although it was being used by the women of the house to store firewood. That was where I settled with my few belongings, struggling to survive while waiting for Allah’s decree.

Our marriage, Yaya Aminu’s and mine, lasted almost thirteen years. I was practically the backbone of the household because Allah blessed me with work. I had my teaching job, I sewed women’s clothes and did small alterations, and I was also given sewing jobs for handbags, small purses, and caps made from hijab fabrics. Allah truly blessed me. Every month, I received my salary, and my tailoring business supported us greatly, so that we could reach the next month without hardship.

I never regretted anything, nor did I ever feel resentment in my heart whenever Yaya Aminu asked me for something. As long as I had it, I gave it to him without argument or complaint. My greatest wish was that our family dignity would remain intact. From the very beginning of our marriage, I made a promise that as long as Allah continued to bless me, Yaya Aminu would be more important to me than anything else, because of the care and kindness he showed me in my life.

Even though my salary was not much, since I taught at a primary school, whenever salaries were paid I would set aside money for his transportation. This was after he was dismissed from the company where he worked due to the worsening of his illness, after which he turned to hustling at the market. That was why, whenever I received my salary, I set aside money for him to cover his daily movements for the month, since he had no means of transportation. The distance from our neighborhood to the market where he hustled was quite far.

Neither I nor his mother (Gwaggo) knew he had any illness until he was carried home from work in critical condition. It was then that the doctor confirmed he had severe asthma, as well as chronic cold (pneumonia), which were triggered by his frequent exposure to water and inhalation of cold morning air. He usually went out early in the morning after prayers and walked on foot because the company was not far from our home. In addition to this, he had a problem with one of his legs—the heel did not properly touch the ground. The doctor confirmed that the harsh walking and the cold air he inhaled combined to trigger his illness.

It was then that Gwaggo remembered that when he was a child, he once had a similar condition that was managed with difficulty. From that time on, we became very cautious. Whenever he went out and forgot his inhaler, he would return to get it. Before he left the house, I would remind him to take it and put it in his pocket.

After he was laid off from work, life became very difficult for us. Allah helped me because I still had a source of income, otherwise I do not know what we would have done. Frustration and bitterness never left him. Whenever we sat together, he complained that Alhaji Tajo had treated him unfairly—dismissing him without justification and giving him nothing after all the hardship he went through for him. I myself was a witness to how devoted Yaya Aminu was to that man, yet he ignored all of that.

I constantly encouraged him to be patient and to remove the burden from his heart. I told him that, for my part, I would never raise my voice at him. Whether in ease or hardship, I would stay with him. I urged him to go to the market and seek sustenance, for Allah is the Provider. My words gave him strength; he would prepare to go out even when he did not know where he was heading. Sometimes he returned with a little profit, and sometimes he came back with nothing but “God help us,” crying from the pain in his legs.

The second attack of his illness became his end. He fell sick at home, overwhelmed by thoughts and bitterness over many things, because he never forgot the humiliation he suffered. Out of sorrow caused by Alhaji Tajo, Yaya Aminu returned to his Lord.

When I returned to my family home intending to live as a widow, matters became even more complicated. The hardship I face now is worse than before, when Allah helped me with something to do and I found some relief through that means. Even so, sometimes when troubles overwhelm me, I lock myself in my room and cry until I feel relieved.

At times, my heart suggests that I should gather courage and rent a house, even if it costs no less than fifty thousand naira per year. I believe that since I am not committing any wrongdoing, Allah will help me. This thought is often triggered by Kamalu’s behavior. The boy lacks patience unlike his younger brother, even though he is the elder one. Every day there are complaints about him in the house. He provokes other children and bullies those weaker than him. Their parents come out to insult and threaten us, even warning that they would report us to the head of the family so he could force me to return the children to their father’s relatives.

In my past life, I faced trials, not just hardship, but deep suffering. First was the loss of my mother in her prime. Second was how I became a neglected and disrespected member of the household, without freedom like my other siblings. Third was the test Allah gave me when we were five girls growing up together—every one of them was married off while I remained unmarried, with no one even noticing me. It was only when destiny intervened that Yaya Aminu showed interest in marrying me, if I accepted him, considering how Allah created him.