Shiryayyar Kaddara Book 1 Complete Hausa Novel

While still half-asleep, she heard a knock on the window of the room they were in. Slowly, she opened her eyes, which felt heavy.

The knocking came again. Her heart skipped a bit because she had thought it was only a dream, not real.

When the knocking became persistent, she quickly looked to her side. He was sleeping soundly, completely relaxed. He was her husband, a man who looked to be about sixty years old. Dark-skinned and very handsome. The woman beside him herself appeared to be around forty-six to forty-eight years old.

She was fair-skinned and very beautiful, first-class beauty. At a glance, you would never guess she was that old.

She gently tapped the pillow he was lying on and began calling his name in a whisper: “Ranka ya daɗe! Ranka ya daɗe!!” She called him about three times without any response. The knocking on the window still didn’t stop.

She raised her voice slightly and said in Hausa, “Please wake up, I feel something is wrong in this room tonight.” He didn’t even stir, and now the person knocking was trying forcefully to open the window.

In a crying voice, she began pleading to God for him to wake up: “Please, my Lord, wake up, something is wrong.” From his sleep, he heard her sobbing. Startled, he woke up suddenly. Realizing she was truly crying, he quickly sat up and asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She pointed at the window and said in a low voice, “Someone is trying to come in through the window.” He glanced toward the sliding door in the room, the kind through which one could see the city of Sydney and the hotel compound.

He swung his legs off the bed and walked toward the window. He paused to listen and heard loud banging on the glass. Then he heard a woman crying in English, saying, “Please open the door, help please!”

He stepped back slightly, surprised. Who was she, and what brought her to their window out of all the rooms in the hotel? The woman sitting on the bed could only stare in shock.

The crying grew louder as the woman continued banging on the window, repeating, “Please help me, open the door please.”

He whispered the shahada and moved closer to the window. He pulled aside the curtain and saw a young white woman standing there, heavily pregnant, clearly about to give birth very soon. A small handbag hung on her shoulder. She looked to be about twenty-five years old.

Her face was soaked with tears; her eyes were red, as were her nose and cheeks. She was extremely beautiful, with big eyes, a straight nose, thin lips, and a small mouth painted with red lipstick. She was of average height.

She wore a long black gown that reached the ground and covered her head with part of it.

When she saw him staring silently, she burst into louder sobs, begging him again to help her.

The wife stood up from the bed and walked to the window, looking the foreign woman up and down.

“Please, let’s help her,” she said, looking at her husband.

He opened the door. As if she had been waiting for it, the woman rushed in quickly, almost falling. She dropped the bag from her shoulder, and the wife quickly caught her, saying, “Careful,” in English.

She supported her into the room while the man followed behind carrying the bag. They went to the sofa in the room. She sat her down and placed the bag beside her. Then the wife went to a small table with bottled water and cups, took one, and returned to the sofa.

She poured water into a cup and handed it to her. Her hand was shaking as she took the cup. The wife looked at her husband standing nearby; both of them were filled with deep sympathy—it was obvious the woman had suffered greatly.

Suddenly, the woman clutched her pregnant belly and squeezed her eyes shut, crying out, “Ouch, oh my God!”

She tried to stand up because of a sudden abdominal pain. Quickly, the wife put the cup aside and comforted her, holding her.

The woman burst into tears again, asking to be taken to the toilet. The wife, almost in tears herself, looked at her husband and said, “She’s about to give birth.” He widened his eyes.

“So what do we do now?” “I don’t know. If we were at home, I’d have everything we need.” “That’s true. Is there nothing you can do to help her now?” “There is, but you know they don’t like home births, only hospitals.”

“In this condition, does it matter where she gives birth? Since God has made you a doctor, just do what is right.”

“Alright,” the wife said.

The man stepped away, giving them plenty of space.

The wife immediately began giving her urgent care. Apart from crying and calling her mother’s name, the foreign woman could do nothing else.

The wife kept soothing her and encouraging her. The pain the woman was going through was intense, and the wife did everything she could, with all her strength, to help her.