K
freeBOOK INFORMATION
AvailableDetails
- Category
- Love Stories
- Format
- TXT
- Access
- Free
- Reader
- Prepared
- Reading parts
- 39 chapters/parts
- Published
- Jun 17, 2025
- Updated
- Oct 30, 2026
BOOK IDENTITY
Author & publisher
- Author
- Rashida
- Publisher
- Ashwar Media Hausa
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Description
Under the Tree of Wisdom
A large tree offered shade and serenity as elders sat underneath, enjoying the gentle breeze. I, Rumaina, walked with calmness, a gait some jokingly called 'regal'. Upon reaching them, I respectfully greeted them.
"This girl is truly blessed. May Allah bless her and our lineage," they responded in unison, something I was used to hearing.
As I approached my home, a voice called out, "RUMAINA!"—boys from our street known for loitering. I ignored them and entered the house.
One said, "Sadiku, your girl didn’t even glance at us today." Sadiku replied, "I wish she did. That girl’s beauty haunts me; she looks like an angel."
Home and Sacrifice
I greeted Mama and sat beside her. She urged me to eat, knowing I hadn't eaten all day. Afterward, I shared with her that my school was demanding overdue fees.
"Leave it to your Baba. He won't forget," she assured.
Later, Baba returned. I greeted him and received a few dates as a gift. He sat with Mama, and she updated him on my school fees.
"They've tried. I can pay for two months. The money I earned fixing a stranger's stalled car today was unexpected," Baba explained, handing her 400 naira. I heard them and felt deep sadness, wishing I could help more.
A Proposal Dismissed
Soon, a boy sent a message via a child saying he wished to see me. Baba refused, saying I wasn't allowed visitors.
The next day, while running errands, Sadam, a wealthy boy in our area, stopped me. "Tell your father you love me. I'll send my people tomorrow."
I snapped. "How dare you speak of my father that way! If you ever harass me again, you'll regret it."
He smiled mischievously, amused. I walked away angrily.
A Day of Devotion
Back home, I resumed Quran studies. Later, I helped Mama with chores, then prepared for the Islamic school where we studied all weekend. I met Hafsat, who pleaded with me to help her revise a verse.
We arrived late, and a teacher punished us harshly. He struck Hafsat and then turned to me. When he hit me, something entered my eye. I screamed in pain, drawing attention.
Malam Nuhu rushed over. Seeing my agony and injured eye, he rebuked the other teacher, realizing his severity had gone too far.
A large tree offered shade and serenity as elders sat underneath, enjoying the gentle breeze. I, Rumaina, walked with calmness, a gait some jokingly called 'regal'. Upon reaching them, I respectfully greeted them.
"This girl is truly blessed. May Allah bless her and our lineage," they responded in unison, something I was used to hearing.
As I approached my home, a voice called out, "RUMAINA!"—boys from our street known for loitering. I ignored them and entered the house.
One said, "Sadiku, your girl didn’t even glance at us today." Sadiku replied, "I wish she did. That girl’s beauty haunts me; she looks like an angel."
Home and Sacrifice
I greeted Mama and sat beside her. She urged me to eat, knowing I hadn't eaten all day. Afterward, I shared with her that my school was demanding overdue fees.
"Leave it to your Baba. He won't forget," she assured.
Later, Baba returned. I greeted him and received a few dates as a gift. He sat with Mama, and she updated him on my school fees.
"They've tried. I can pay for two months. The money I earned fixing a stranger's stalled car today was unexpected," Baba explained, handing her 400 naira. I heard them and felt deep sadness, wishing I could help more.
A Proposal Dismissed
Soon, a boy sent a message via a child saying he wished to see me. Baba refused, saying I wasn't allowed visitors.
The next day, while running errands, Sadam, a wealthy boy in our area, stopped me. "Tell your father you love me. I'll send my people tomorrow."
I snapped. "How dare you speak of my father that way! If you ever harass me again, you'll regret it."
He smiled mischievously, amused. I walked away angrily.
A Day of Devotion
Back home, I resumed Quran studies. Later, I helped Mama with chores, then prepared for the Islamic school where we studied all weekend. I met Hafsat, who pleaded with me to help her revise a verse.
We arrived late, and a teacher punished us harshly. He struck Hafsat and then turned to me. When he hit me, something entered my eye. I screamed in pain, drawing attention.
Malam Nuhu rushed over. Seeing my agony and injured eye, he rebuked the other teacher, realizing his severity had gone too far.