A Bakin Wawa Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Heavy Heart Returns Home
 
Ummusalma walked slowly, as though her feet were reluctant to touch the ground, even though it was broad daylight. Her heart carried a weight of sorrow, one that grew heavier every time she returned to the house—a home she no longer considered one. Despite its beauty and prestige, she despised everything about it: the walls, the people, the air inside it. To her, even life in the forest would be better than this suffocating routine.
 
Lost in thought, she reached the front door and entered the large parlour without greeting anyone. Just as expected, the family was gathered, chatting freely while the children dressed for Islamic school. Her father, noticing her presence, called out, "Ummusalma!" She stopped, not turning around. "You return without even greeting us?" he added. She only nodded and quietly climbed the stairs.
 
Her mother, troubled, whispered, "This girl frightens me. I wonder if she hasn’t been possessed." Her father dismissed the idea, blaming her behavior on disrespect and stubbornness. Still, other family members speculated—why didn’t she go to Islamic school like the others? Why was she so withdrawn?
 
Silent Questions and Private Studies
 
Back in her room, Ummusalma removed her school uniform and took a shower. As she dried herself, she stared into the mirror, the same questions playing in her mind: When will I smile again? When will this sadness leave me? Who can I trust to share my pain?
 
After dressing, she remembered her Qur’an teacher would be visiting today. She took her hidden school bag from the wardrobe—careful not to let anyone discover her secret—and began studying. She immersed herself in her memorization until the Asr call to prayer sounded. She prayed and waited quietly, determined not to repeat the mistake she once made—a mistake that left her emotionally scarred.
 
Soon, a knock came at the door. The housemaid informed her the teacher had arrived. The maid was surprised by how respectful Ummusalma had become; just a while ago, she would have been angry at being addressed without “Madam.”
 
A Quiet Breakthrough
 
Under the garden’s shade, Ummusalma recited the Qur’an with care, releasing each letter with precision. Her teacher was impressed. Once hesitant to add even a verse, she now confidently requested to memorize two pages instead of one.
 
As their session ended, she made one humble request: “Please don’t tell anyone I’m studying.” The teacher nodded in silent understanding.
 
As he walked out through the compound, he encountered her father and exchanged pleasantries. Out of the blue, her father asked, “So, she’s finally learning?” It was an unexpected question, considering he had never shown interest before.
 
Caught off guard, the teacher replied nervously, “Yes, sir… though she barely speaks to me.” Her father chuckled with mild satisfaction and drove off. The teacher, still baffled, rode away on his bike.
 
Moments of Solace and Small Joys
 
That evening, while everyone else was gathered for dinner, Ummusalma sat alone in her room doing her assignment. Two of her younger half-brothers, Yusuf and Yaseer, entered her room playfully. Though she answered their greetings quietly, she didn’t engage in conversation.
 
Yusuf admired her biology drawing skills and asked if she could sketch a PJ Mask character for him. Yaseer teased, doubting she could draw from imagination. She only nodded, offering no words.
 
A playful argument broke out between the boys over who deserved her attention. They wrestled, shouted, and laughed. She remained unmoved, not even looking up to scold or separate them as she once would have. Eventually, the housemaid summoned them for dinner, and they left.
 
Left alone again, she stared at her door, feeling a rush of emotion. She blinked back tears and returned to her drawing. Afterward, she picked up her Qur’an and read until Isha prayer, hoping for peace in her nightly reflections.
 
A House Divided by Silence
 
Downstairs, the family gathered at the dinner table. Even as they ate, tension lingered—likely caused by the boys’ earlier quarrel. Their mother questioned them sternly, but the argument quickly faded. Sameera, another sibling, scolded them for fighting over something so trivial.
 
Later that night, as Yusuf prepared for bed, he told Yaseer he wouldn’t be watching PJ Mask with him. Yaseer asked Yusuf to narrate the episode to him tomorrow instead. At first, Yusuf was irritated but soon softened. They ended their day laughing and talking, noting how the house no longer felt the same since Ummusalma had grown distant.
 
“Yaya used to make the house lively,” Yaseer said quietly. “Now it feels... empty.”