Al'farma Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Beneath the Tree of Shade
 
A great tree cast deep shade over the gathering crowd; from it a gentle breeze stirred, whispering through the leaves. Most of the people seated nearby were elderly. I walk calmly, intentionally—known in this town as someone not eager for conflict—and as I approach the ancient tree, I greet the group:
“Peace be upon you.”
They respond in unison: “And unto you!”
I continue on, a young woman blessed, raised with grace and gratitude. They whisper among themselves:
“Ameen, may Allah bless her!”
I, too, say “Ameen,” and proceed toward my home gate.
 
📞 A Startling Call at the Door
 
As I near our entrance, I hear my name called sharply:
“Rumaina!”
It’s unmistakably the young men from our neighborhood gathered at the gate. I rush inside, strong in resolve.
 
One of them—Sadiku—calls out:
“Sadiku, your kindness is unmatched. We haven’t seen you yet—your beautiful face we long to behold.”
He turns to a friend: “No rest until I see that face. Sleep won’t come easily tonight!”
Sadiku grins back:
“I swear, she’s so lovely I nearly trembled when I saw her. I said to myself, ‘Is this a jinn?’”
They laugh:
“My goodness, she made quite the impression!”
They repeat their admiration until I slip away.
 
🤍 A Daughter’s Obedience
 
Inside, Mama sits primly, and I greet her as I take my seat.
“Mama,” I say, offering respect.
“Rumaina,” she replies gently, “go fetch your food and eat. There's no proper meal, but eat something before you leave.”
I nod and head to the kitchen, returning soon with my plate. As I sit down to eat, I tell her:
“Mama, our teacher said I cannot return until school fees are paid. Three months are due by the end of this month; I know Baba won’t forget.”
Mama sighs appreciatively:
“He will send it soon,” she says, placing my hand on her cheek.
 
Baba enters later. Asima spreads carpet for him; they eat together. With concern, my mother mentions the fees again. Baba raises four hundred naira in his pocket and says:
“Here—may Allah bless you, my daughter. Pay what you can, and I’ll settle the rest next month.”
He hands me 200 ₦ now; I thank him deeply and retreat to my room, emotions swelling with gratitude.
 
📚 A Scholar in Quiet
 
That evening I return to my studies, despite missing classes. I open my books and read—learning is my solace and strength. Soon I hear Baba’s voice at my door:
“Rumaina,” he calls kindly. I emerge and greet him. He offers me dates and affectionately says:
“Here’s more money to help with fees.”
Again I’m deeply moved, so full of love for my father.
 
🕌 Prayer & Proclamation
 
The next afternoon, a young neighbor calls out for me as we walk to (or from) the mosque. I join them in performing ablutions and prayers. My heart is full of pride as I am asked again to fetch something for prayer—a simple task but meaningful in this household.
 
🗣 Encounter with a Young Man
 
Walking home, I meet a local young man who addresses me boldly:
“Rumaina, your father says you're not allowed to speak with anyone yet. But I see the light in your face—you're beautiful. Who are you hiding from? Tell me you love me, and tomorrow I’ll come speak with my parents.”
Out of respect and hurt, I firmly reply:
“Do not speak ill of my father. Know that I am his daughter, and I will not tolerate disrespect.”
He falters, surprised, eyes wide. I raise my hand:
“Do not mention your intentions again.”
He steps back, glaring, but then walks off.
 
I realize some people think wealth buys everything. I think of Sadam and Tijjani from the neighborhood—sons of wealthy families—and admit:
“If they pursue me, it’s because of their power and influence. I know better—they must understand respect.”
With firmness, I leave him behind and return home quietly.
 
🏠 A Day in Home Life
 
At home, I change into a simple dress and watch Mama toil over cooking. We converse briefly. Then I focus on Quran recitation, seeking peace and guidance. Night comes, and we pray together until I fall asleep in the content stillness of home.
 
🕙 Early Morning Duties
 
At dawn, as usual, Mama reminds me:
“Rumaina, eat something before going.”
I nibble and prepare silently—no one seems anxious. I go about my tasks methodically, fetch water from the well, wash and dress. At breakfast Mama notes,
“You got money—for the school fund? Your father sent it last night.”
Indeed, I did receive it, and I am ready to deliver it as needed.
 
👩‍🏫 The Teacher’s Scolding
 
In class, Malam Nuhu notices me and asks me to come forward. Without warning, I’m scolded and struck for an absent-minded lapse. The humiliation is sharp, tears swell—but the shame of disappointing parents and teacher cuts deeper. I hold back tears and continue reciting the Quran, though I feel their sting keenly. The other teachers watch quietly.
 
That evening, Baba unexpectedly visits school. In the headmaster’s office, he again assures that he’ll cover my fees, so I may continue studying without worry. Relief and pride wash over me; his faith in me means everything.
 
🌙 Ramadan & Responsibility
 
During Ramadan, as fasting begins, I help with chores around the house and am assigned to collect charity funds for our district elder’s home. I walk there—respectfully, quietly—then return home while thinking of all the household work awaiting me, but I carry no complaint.
 
💬 The Limit of Respect
 
Another day, a wealthy young man named Tijjani encounters me. He demands to speak with my father, but I, strong in my own voice, refuse to comply with his presumptuous request. He praises my appearance and says he’ll take me as his wife. I retort sternly:
“Do not disrespect my father or me. Know that I will not allow this. Do not approach me again.”
He shrugs and leaves—but I know better: property power isn’t everything; integrity matters more.
 
In the calm of my room after that encounter, I reflect:
“His father can give me anything—but will not buy my dignity or my heart.”
I return to my books and prayers, calm in conviction.
 
🙏 Resolved in Prayer
 
That evening, I join my mother for Isha prayers. She reminds me sternly to eat properly and go to school the next day—no matter what. I nod, though my appetite’s gone from the confrontation. I manage a little, then retire to my room to continue Quran recitation until sleep overtakes me.
 
Final Reflection
 
Throughout, the voice of the story remains humble, measured—filled with gentle emotion and community detail. We meet Rumaina as a respectful, studious, pious daughter who supports her parents despite financial constraints. She faces public acclaim, family influence, school humility, and unwanted romantic advances—all with grace, courage, and clear commitment to her faith and dignity.
 
The narrative affirms: true worth lies not in wealth or social pressure, but in respect, education, community, and family love. Rumaina’s journey, always rooted in prayer and perseverance, shines as a portrait of a girl determined to build her life on strong values.