Alwashi Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

The Orphanage and the Two Young Women
 
It was an orphanage home with a massive gate and tall surrounding walls that were a sight to behold. Inside, the compound was extremely spacious, filled with numerous buildings — offices for staff, dormitories for the orphans, and every other facility they needed.
 
Everywhere you looked, children were gathered in groups: some playing, some chatting, while others were busy with their daily chores.
 
A little aside sat two young women, each about 23 years old. One of them sat with her chin in her palm, wearing a faded hijab and an old atamfa cloth. Her companion’s clothes were also worn out.
 
“Hafsat, what is this deep thinking for? Your whole mood today is low, like someone who is unwell…” one of them asked gently, placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder.
 
“Amina, I’m fine. I’m just thinking about our future in this place. Hardly anyone cares about us. Even the government seems to have abandoned us, only remembering us once in a long while,” Hafsat replied with a voice filled with sadness.
 
Amina sighed.
“But Hafsat, that isn’t new to us. With the many years we’ve spent here, and still nobody has come to adopt us or take us out of this place, how can we be like other people?”
 
“Amina, how can we be like everyone else when nobody even knows where we come from? Only Allah knows our origin. So talking about becoming like everyone else is meaningless.”
 
Amina nodded.
“No problem. Whatever the case, Allah is with us.”
 
Just then, a staff member called out, interrupting their conversation.
 
“You girls, come along!”
 
They stood up and followed her. All the orphans were gathered in one place near a large truck where food items, clothes, blankets, and mattresses were being offloaded.
 
Amina and Hafsat stood quietly, watching the abundance of items being brought down. Each silently prayed for the unknown benefactor who always supported them generously.
 
The representative of the donor cleared his throat and addressed them:
 
“As we all know, this servant of Allah — the one you call the supporter of orphans — never stops helping you. Though he is still a young man, Allah has blessed him like the elders. Let us pray for Allah to bless his life, wealth, and his parents.”
 
“Amin,” everyone responded happily.
 
After the items were shared and the representative left, the children carried their belongings back to their quarters. Their lives depended largely on these occasional donations — often going two months without any help except from this mysterious young man whom they had never seen.
 
Yusleem’s Entrance and His Mother’s Expectations
 
He walked as though his feet barely touched the ground, wearing a red long-sleeved T-shirt tucked into black trousers with a matching red belt. Despite walking fast, his elegant gait did not change. He adjusted his black sunglasses, glanced at the silver watch strapped to his wrist, and continued with his usual expressionless face.
 
He opened the door leading to his mother’s sitting room and entered angrily. Finding no one there, he moved to a private lounge where his mother relaxed. She sat on a couch, beautiful, light-skinned, and elegantly dressed in expensive lace. Her neck, hands, and ears glittered with gold jewelry. Beside her lay a young lady of about 23, resting her head on her lap.
 
He greeted them, though they barely heard because they were engrossed in a satellite TV drama. They only noticed him after he sat down.
 
With a bright smile, his mother looked at him.
“Yusleem… you’re back already?”
 
He frowned, eyes fixed on his phone.
“Yes, Mami,” he muttered.
 
Still smiling, she continued,
“I’ve been waiting for you. I want you to help arrange visas for me and Surayya. I’m taking her to Cairo for medical check-up.”
 
He said nothing. Silence was his habit. Even when spoken to, he responded only when he felt like it. His pride and arrogance were well-known in the household.
 
After about ten minutes, he raised his big, round eyes from his phone and glanced briefly at Surayya, who was dressed in a black English blouse and skirt, with her hair uncovered. He said nothing and returned to his phone.
 
“Mami… I wanted to tell you something.”
 
She focused on him immediately.
“Yes, Yusleem, I’m listening.”
 
“Mami… I divorced Khadija this morning.”
 
His mother’s eyes widened. She clutched her chest. Surayya bolted upright from her lying position. Both stared at him with shock and disbelief.
 
“Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un… Oh God, what is this, Yusleem?” his mother exclaimed, clapping her hands in distress.
 
“What kind of person are you? Are you sure you’re not being controlled by jinn? Have you forgotten that not even three full months have passed since your wedding? You married Khadija recently, and now you’re telling me you divorced her?
 
“Is marriage a joke to you? A toy? Children’s play?”
 
Confusion, Anger, and Rising Tension
 
She continued, her voice trembling with disappointment:
 
“What did Khadija do to deserve this? What exactly is wrong with you, Yusleem? Do you even understand the meaning of responsibility? How can a grown man behave like this?”
 
Surayya added sharply,
“Yes, Yusleem! What did she do? You just divorced her like that?”
 
He remained quiet, scrolling on his phone as if nothing serious had happened.
 
His mother shook her head repeatedly, overwhelmed by frustration.
 
“Wallahi, this your pride and arrogance will destroy you one day. Do you think life revolves around your mood? Do you think women are something you discard anytime you feel like it?”
 
Still, he said nothing.
 
The atmosphere remained heavy — his mother trembling with anger, Surayya glaring with disbelief, and Yusleem unmoved, face cold, eyes hidden behind dark eyewear, lost in his own world.