Hawwa Kulu 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Ahayye, water from above, water from below… before she could finish, she pulled a stool and said:

“Kut Melesi… today, if I allow it, I won’t walk barefoot in this town…”

The house suddenly went quiet; she didn’t speak for a moment. Then, raising her voice, she said:

“Gwaggo, Gwaggo! I swear, come out and be my witness. If I have to twist this animal’s head and cap, there’s no work in hiding it!”

Quickly, Lami came out, fixing her headscarf, and what she had feared happened. She spilled her palm full of money, shook her grandmother’s hand, and knowing Jidda’s temper very well, she realized this wasn’t a lie. What she had said was a small matter compared to Jidda’s anger. She lowered her voice and said:

“Child of the house, Gwaggo, forgive me. I didn’t know you came to eat. In the future, if you don’t feed them, just leave them in their place or near the household rubbish…”

Hamgame opened her mouth wide and exclaimed:

“Yes, Baba Lami, you see, now you’re telling me this? So basically, you want to boss me around, and if I’m not here, I swear, I’ll bring out this mischievous, tricky brat. If she doesn’t come and eat, you’ll see how a stubborn girl gets handled!”

She slapped the brat on the stomach, making her cry…

“Beeeeyyy, beeyyy!”

Quickly, she grabbed the brat, Baba Lami helped her tie it tightly. She knew Jidda’s temper well; the story would be different if mishandled. She cut it and gave the useless card to eat, no reason, just so that the brat would calm down.

“If Allah unites you with a worthless person, only prayer can help.”

She spat, pulled it aside, opened the water bucket, and washed her feet. She wasn’t concerned about drinking water, only cleaning her feet.

Quickly, Hansai appeared, asking: “Which son of…?” Before she could finish, she bumped into the mother of the mischief-makers. Jiddodo had eaten the rest of her words. She said:

“No, child of Gwaggo, you’ve returned…”

The brat mocked her, slapping her on the bucket. Only a little water remained, and it spilled.

She entered the room. Everything that belonged to Gwaggo was on a worn-out mattress. She was cracking nuts, pushing them forward with her waist. Jidda said:

“Gwaggo, now all the calls I make, you ignore me…”

She adjusted her posture and said:

“Kululu, calm down. Today, it’s not about the children; I took the complaint to Allah…”

Hmm, she just sat, staring at the mattress where Gwaggo sat, and said:

“Gwaggo, I swear, I will start involving myself in politics tomorrow. Let me see how she handles it…”

“I swear, every time I see you among politicians, I will kick your leg aside, not to mention the words you spread about me in the town, until you leave political activities,” said a young man peeking through Gwaggo’s window.

In an argument, Gwaggo replied:

“By Allah, Hamisu, if you don’t stop what you are doing, may Allah give you a serious punishment. The orphan has never been mistreated. Don’t bring sorrow on yourself; you are not the son of Asharaf. Who knows the wealth you have gained…”

As she spoke, Jidda shook her head, thinking, “If Gwaggo is in this house, she will not allow me to scold Jidda at all.” She was grown, but even at sixteen, she wasn’t fully mature. He didn’t say a word, just turned away.

Buda said, sighing:

“May Allah protect you, Gwaggo. I swear, if you are in this town, I won’t cry…”

She laughed and said:

“Kululu, I am not ignorant like them. People meddle with an orphan, but I’m not ready to die…”

She stood up. You wouldn’t call her ordinary; she had height, a certain elegance, and you could stare at her. Despite her young age, her chest was full, noticeable under her T-shirt and jeans. Her cap pushed back her black hair in two neat plaits (two-step style).

Her skin wasn’t pale, nor was it dark—chocolate-colored, like an Ethiopian baby’s face. Her eyes were wide, and her beautiful features made anyone who looked at her captivated.

Looking her up and down, Gwaggo said:

“You, Kululu, I don’t want poverty in my house…”

Quickly, she replied:

“Gwaggo, what did I do…?”