Turken Gida Book 1 Complete Hausa Novel

ENGR. YUSUF MUHAMMAD INUWA stepped out of the mosque located just ahead of his house at about a few minutes to six in the morning. As was his habit, he stopped to recite his adhkar and a few personal supplications. After that, he usually paused briefly to exchange greetings with people. Although the neighborhood was made up largely of people like him, there were also respectable and elderly men living there. Even if they did not meet elsewhere, the heads of households met every dawn prayer at the mosque, since for some of them, dawn was the only time one could see them because of work. People like Engineer Yusuf, who had many engagements and hardly had time to sit or spend a whole day at home—even on weekends he was usually out—since he was not a government worker but a self-employed professional who had stood on his own feet since his youth.

By estimation, Engineer Yusuf could not be less than 42 years old, and he would not be more than that either. He walked calmly back home after leaving the mosque, since it was close by. He was dressed in a fine black jalabiya that still gleamed with freshness, wearing a black patterned cap, and holding a tasbih in his hand. He was a tall man, well built, with an imposing presence. At first glance, one could tell he was not Fulani, because of his fair complexion, and his hair alone could reveal who he was, even though he was not someone who kept long hair. His face was not long; it was slightly broad. Still, Engineer Yusuf was handsome, with a long nose that added to the dignity and stature of a complete man.

He headed for a well-arranged house along Lodge Road. The house was by the roadside, as the entire neighborhood was paved with asphalt. The house had a modern look, or rather, its architectural style reflected his profession. From the outside, one could tell that even if the house was not brand new, it had not been there long, because the black gate was still shining with freshness, and the exterior paint—leaf-green in color—looked as though it had just been applied. When he reached the gate, he slipped his hand into the front pocket of his jalabiya, brought out a key, opened the gate, went in, and locked it behind him. The compound was small, enough for parking one or two cars, and there was a black Toyota C-HR parked inside. The compound was beautified with lovely, attractive flowers that gave off a pleasant fragrance. The door leading into the house was also locked; he inserted the key, opened it, went in, and closed it again.

The first place he entered was the main living room. There was no noise from chairs or anything else—only the mounted television and the carpet at the center of the room. The living room was quite spacious; on the right side was a dining area that could seat five people. The living room was painted a bright golden-yellow color, and even the curtains surrounding it were of the same shade. From the living room, he removed his footwear and walked with his long, firm strides toward a door facing him. The living room was quiet; everything was shut, even the lights were off. He used the light from his phone, although there was electricity, since he did not bother to look for the switch, as he had no intention of staying there.

The next door he opened did not require a key, as it was already unlocked. He simply pushed it open and found himself in a smaller sitting room furnished with three moderately sized chairs. There was a small wall-mounted television, a carpet, and a large double-door refrigerator. On one side stood a water dispenser. This sitting room was painted brown, and its curtains were the same color. The room was completely still, with no movement at all. He reached out and turned on the light, and brightness filled the room. From the center of the sitting room, there was a closed door; to one side was a long corridor that led to another door, and on the eastern side there was yet another closed door, which he headed toward.

He knocked once and greeted at the same time, because from the doorway one could hear the sound of adhkar being recited in soft, gentle voices. He opened the door and entered immediately, then closed it behind him. A smile instantly appeared on his face when he came face to face with his beautiful daughters seated on a small carpet that partially covered the center of the room. They were both girls. The elder, about thirteen years old, was wearing a black hijab that reached the ground, with a book of adhkar in her hand. The younger, about five years old, was also wearing a similar hijab and holding a small adhkar book in her hand.