Ajiya A Duhu Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

The Portrait of Destiny
 
Life’s fate is like a painting etched on the page of every soul’s journey. No matter how hard we try to erase or run from it, we are often left defenseless—without a sword to battle nor a shield to protect ourselves. Sometimes, we weep outwardly. Other times, the tears of the heart cut deeper than any wound, leaving invisible scars that revisit us long after the pain has passed.
 
In our earliest days, our parents become our defenders—our first and truest guardians. They pour everything into protecting and raising us, wrapping us in love so strong it carves its own place in our souls. Their love is unshakable. Even when they scold us, we know it springs from deep care.
 
But as we grow older, they age, and we are cloaked in youth. Life’s challenges begin, and so does the test of destiny. This includes not only worldly struggles but the quest for the Hereafter. Every step into adulthood becomes part of a divine record—our good and bad laid bare before the One who created us. Through it all, our parents keep fighting our battles, even when we think we’ve grown past needing them.
 
A Rainy Goodbye
 
Three young women, dressed in NYSC uniforms, stood by the roadside. All held travel bags, faces laced with the anxiety of a long journey ahead. They were headed to Kaduna, and the skies above Jos were already dark with approaching rain. The middle girl, Maanal, seemed the most uneasy. She glanced up, silently pleading with the heavens not to pour just yet.
 
Suddenly, a luxury car pulled up. From it stepped a handsome young man whose presence made two of the girls smile instantly—except Maanal. Her face tightened as she turned away.
 
He approached them, eyes locked on Maanal, and said jokingly, “Even with all my speed, you still tried to outrun me?”
 
She stepped back, clearly uninterested in the banter. He scratched his head, smiling nonetheless, and turned to the others. “So this is how my friends abandon me? You’re planning to hide her away from me?”
 
One of the girls, Aneesa, laughed and responded, “Oh, it’s not like that. She’s just excited to see her mother. Barely slept last night.”
 
“Or maybe she’s happy to be running away from her sweetheart,” he teased, eyes still on Maanal.
 
“I’m sure you know that’s not true,” Aneesa quickly defended her friend.
 
“Hmm… Aneesa, you always protect her.” He sighed, then added, “Let’s just get you all to the station. It’s about to rain, and I don’t want my queen soaked.”
 
Maanal ignored him and began pulling her luggage. RK, the young man, reached out to help, but Aneesa took it from him before Maanal could protest. Maanal turned, thinking it was him, only to find Aneesa with an apologetic smile.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “but please don’t end this journey in anger. RK doesn’t deserve that, no matter what your answer to him may be. Just leave things peacefully.”
 
Tears welled up in Maanal’s eyes. She wanted to speak, but the rain came crashing down. Suddenly, she was in the car—Aneesa had pulled her in without her even realizing.
 
RK’s eyes met hers through the rearview mirror. Her cheeks were wet—half from the rain, half from tears. She turned away.
 
Between Tension and Affection
 
The car was silent as the rain continued to pour like heaven had broken its dam. RK glanced at her repeatedly through the mirror, his mind half on the road, half on the girl who never smiled.
 
Maanal wasn’t the type of girl people forgot easily. Beautiful in a quiet, distant way, she was neither too tall nor too short, not too slim but not curvy either. Her stillness gave her an air of mystery. She was always reading, always with her eyeglasses—white-framed ones that made her look both sharp and unreachable. Even her glasses had a story, known only to her.
 
Unlike her chatty friends, she was stoic, a mystery in motion. She didn’t joke, didn’t laugh easily. In fact, getting a smile from Maanal was considered an achievement. To RK, that mystery was irresistible. It only made him try harder to reach whatever was hidden beneath her guarded silence.
 
He kept driving, refusing to drop them at the park as agreed. He wanted more time, more presence. Maanal said nothing, but her unease filled the car like perfume.
 
A Love Unspoken
 
Though RK often joked and teased, everyone could see the sincerity in his eyes when it came to Maanal. He wasn’t just chasing her out of infatuation; he admired her deeply—even in her silence. It was clear that somewhere along the line, he’d fallen for her. Hard.
 
But Maanal didn’t know what to do with affection. Especially not his. Her heart had been through too much to welcome such warmth without suspicion. And so, she pushed. She distanced. She armored herself with indifference, using her books and quietness as shields.
 
Yet in that moment, with the rain pounding on the car roof, her heart—however tightly shut—trembled. Her friends watched, silently praying that this would not be the last chapter between them.
 
When they arrived at the terminal, RK helped with the luggage silently. This time, he didn’t tease. Maanal stepped out, eyes still low, lips sealed.
 
“Safe journey,” he said finally, softly. “I’ll miss seeing you around.”
 
She paused—just slightly—but didn’t look back.
 
And like the rain that falls and washes the streets, RK watched her walk away, taking with her every silent hope he had.