Al'ajabin So Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Weight of Destiny
 
History reminds us that life before us was filled with trials. This world is full of challenges, hardship, and danger. If you somehow escape these, then fate simply hasn’t marked them for your scroll. When destiny begins to pull you into its grasp, your only power is to learn from its blows and accept Allah’s will with patience.
 
I, Fatima, never knew that the ropes of one’s fate could tangle into another’s—so tightly that it became one life, one struggle. Pain and loneliness overwhelmed me. Happiness was so far it seemed to live in another realm. I often wondered: whose fate was I carrying? My mother's? My father's? Or was this torment carved just for me?
 
In moments of deep reflection, I found myself thanking the Creator for not giving certainty in life. Joy or grief—both are timed. Everything that has a beginning must end. An old saying goes: what terrifies you today might draw your sympathy tomorrow. Life is like a crawling chameleon, always changing its colors.
 
My life’s experiences have finally given me the courage to share my story.
 
A Return Home in Shadows
 
A sleek car rolled into the grand compound, weaving through an avenue of well-kept flowers and symmetric parking spaces before stopping near the main parlor. Calmly, a girl in school uniform stepped out—black skirt, white shirt, tie, and black blazer. She adjusted her black cap and beret that shaded her stunning face.
 
As she opened the car door, another girl in the same uniform stepped out with a harsh glance and shoved past her rudely. The first girl, Alayah, barely held onto the car to avoid falling.
 
Her eyes shimmered with tears. At school today, her friends had mocked her mercilessly. Even in the car, insults flew freely. It burned her spirit.
 
"Alayah!"
 
She turned quickly.
 
"Yes, Baba Musa?"
 
"You forgot your school bag."
 
She smiled gently. "Thank you, Baba. I’ll be going in. Rest well."
 
He watched her sadly. He knew she hadn’t really forgotten. She had only rushed to open the door for Meelah.
 
"May Allah protect us all," he muttered.
 
A Hidden Sanctuary
 
Alayah walked down a separate path into a quiet section of the mansion. She entered a modest section with dignity. At the door, she called out a greeting, even knowing no one might reply. But manners, they taught her, always matter. Even angels respond.
 
Inside, she sought the light of her life: her silent mother.
 
Sitting in a humble parlor was a fair woman, strikingly beautiful, likely no older than forty. Their resemblance was undeniable.
 
"You're back?" her mother signed gently.
 
Alayah responded in sign language and a whisper, "Yes, Ummi. Let me freshen up before Mommy sees me."
 
Her mother nodded. Silently, lovingly.
 
Duties and Disgrace
 
After bathing and praying, she rushed to answer a phone ringing harshly in the main parlor.
 
"You wretched girl! So now you delay coming to me after school? I swear this is the last time! Try it again and you'll see!"
 
Click.
 
The line went dead. Her hands trembled. Her heart ached. But there was no time to cry.
 
She had grown up this way—among cruelty, shouted insults, slavery masked as guardianship.
 
She longed to ask her mother about their life. Did she have no family? Why did she tolerate this endless humiliation?
 
Once, as she held her mother’s hand, she whispered: "Ummi, if I had the power, I’d never let them come near you again. It hurts more when they insult you than when they hurt me."
 
Her mother simply smiled.
 
A Face She Couldn’t Bear to See
 
She entered the grand inner parlor. Everything sparkled. Every inch screamed luxury—Mommy’s kingdom.
 
There she was. Hajiya Zeenat. Legs crossed. Draped in lace and gold, fiddling with her expensive foldable Samsung.
 
Alayah knelt.
 
"Mommy, welcome."
 
No reply.
 
"You think you can delay every day? Didn’t I warn you? Are you deaf like your mother? This is the last time!"
 
"I'm sorry... I was praying."
 
"In this house, who is your mommy? Didn’t I say call me Hajiya? You think I look like your cursed mother?"
 
She trembled, eyes we
lling up. But she didn’t look up. Not at the face that never smiled.
 
This, too, was her fate.