Al'ajabin Masarauta Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

Prince Sameer’s Modesty and the Friends’ Night Talk
 
As soon as he entered the parlor, Prince Sameer began taking off his clothes — a habit he always practiced before going to the bedroom. By the time he got there, only a few pieces of clothing were left on him.
Yet, despite this routine, he never removed his boxers in the bedroom, not until he was ready to bathe. Prince Sameer was a deeply modest man, shy and reserved to the point that even if a gun were pointed at him, he would never reveal his nakedness.
 
All he ever wanted was to bathe and cleanse himself privately, believing that letting anyone see his body was shameless. He entered the bedroom exhausted and went straight to the bathroom to take a shower, while his friends, Ameer and the others, stayed back in the parlor discussing their travel plans for the next day.
 
 Danejo’s Encounter in the Bush
 
Since the day Inna Wuro beat Danejo, she had never raised her hand on her again — but she continued to burden her with hard labor beyond her strength. She barely gave her enough food and never let her rest until midnight.
Despite the hardship, what always puzzled Danejo was how quickly she finished difficult tasks — chores that could take an adult woman over five hours, she would complete in just twenty or thirty minutes. But even that mystery didn’t make Inna Wuro treat her better.
 
One afternoon, Danejo was walking back through Malam Baffa’s bush path after delivering milk to Uncle Ishaq when she saw a group of young men sneaking into Baffa’s farm — men she recognized as neighbors. They had stolen from the farm before, but she hadn’t told anyone. This time, they saw her first and approached her threateningly.
 
“Hai, Danejo,” one of them, Sani, said harshly. “If you dare tell anyone again that you saw us here, we’ll kill you right in this village!”
 
But Danejo, instead of being scared, glared at them with defiance.
“I swear, you can’t stop me,” she replied boldly. “You’ll see — I’ll make sure you pay for what you’ve done. You think I’ll need to tell someone? I’ll punish you myself!”
 
Her words enraged them. One of the boys grabbed her and covered her mouth while the others followed into a hidden corner. She struggled, hitting his back with her fists and kicking his legs, but he refused to let go. They carried her deep into the woods where no one could hear, then threw her on the ground — all of them circling her, grinning wickedly.
 
Danejo sat up, her eyes filled with something strange — not fear, but pity. The boys laughed mockingly, and one said, “Don’t act tough, girl. Today you’ll learn your lesson. We’ll see how brave you really are.”
But before they could touch her, a powerful whirlwind suddenly burst through the place, spinning them violently into the air and throwing them far away onto rocks.
 
When the dust settled, Danejo was still sitting — but now on a glittering golden throne. Her beauty had transformed into something beyond human — her body glowing with gold and ornaments, her feet crossed regally.
 
The boys froze in terror. Then they realized the throne wasn’t a real chair — it was the body of a gigantic serpent, coiled beneath her, its head raised high, crowned like a royal seat. Two smaller serpents wrapped around it, making the throne look majestic and terrifying at once. Around her stood strange, human-like creatures — neither humans nor animals — fierce beings guarding her like royal soldiers.
 
When Danejo smiled, her beauty became otherworldly — the kind of beauty that could only belong to a spirit. Her voice was sweet yet chilling when she spoke:
 
“Jauro,” she called softly.
 
The name alone made them faint from fear. When they woke, she was still there, smiling as before. They tried to run, but found themselves frozen in place, unable to move a muscle. She had trapped them with her will before even saying a word.
 
“You worthless creatures,” she said coldly. “You steal from farms and assault innocent girls. I’ll spare you today, but mark my words — if I ever hear of such evil again, I’ll punish you myself. Let this be your warning.”
 
The moment she finished, the spell broke. The boys screamed and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Danejo just smiled faintly, picked up her torn cloth, and walked home quietly.
 
 Inside the Royal Palace of Mahar
 
Later that evening, inside the great palace of Mahar, a young maid named Laraba hurried through the courtyard. Her steps were quick and anxious — her eyes restless as though hiding something. She made her way directly to the Queen Mother’s private chamber, where she found Fulani Abu, the royal matriarch, seated beside her son Ciroma Mubarak.
 
Two other attendants were fanning them while they chatted casually. Laraba dropped to her knees and greeted respectfully, saying:
“May Allah increase Fulani Abu in honor and long life — I greet you, Mother of Majesty, Jewel of the Mahar Kingdom.”
 
Fulani Abu smiled gently and nodded in acknowledgment. Laraba turned toward Ciroma Mubarak and said,
“May Allah increase the Prince’s rank and honor — the son and grandson of kings, and a future king himself.”
 
“Thank you, Laraba,” Mubarak replied kindly before excusing himself and leaving.
 
Once he left, Fulani Abu focused her sharp gaze on Laraba. “What brings you here, Laraba? I can see there’s something on your mind.”
 
Laraba bowed and said, “Yes, my Queen. Today, Prince Sameer arrived at the palace with his brothers to visit His Majesty. I came quickly to inform you, in case you hadn’t heard.”
 
Fulani Abu remained silent for a moment, then said calmly, “Yes, I already know. But Laraba, haven’t I warned you about bringing me gossip I didn’t ask for?”
 
Laraba’s heart pounded as she lowered her head. “Forgive me, my Queen. I meant no disrespect.”
 
Fulani Abu sighed softly, then reached for a small pouch hanging beside her. She took out a fine piece of cloth and handed it to Laraba.
“Take this,” she said. “Use it for the children.”
 
Laraba trembled with gratitude. “Thank you, my Queen! May Allah bless you abundantly!” she exclaimed as she left joyfully, admiring the Queen’s generosity.
 
When she was gone, Fulani Abu shook her head and muttered to herself,
“This palace is full of gossip and hypocrisy. What good will all this whispering do her anyway? Servants and their tales — always too many words.”
 
Then she rose gracefully and walked toward her private chamber.