Aure A Yau Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Dreams Before Marriage
 
Every woman before marriage has beautiful dreams and hopes about how she wants her marital life to be — her wish is to receive care, kindness, and love from her husband. But for most women, after marriage, those dreams die, turning into dead hopes. That is what causes them to live in sorrow and regret, as if they are buried alive inside their own homes rather than living in this world.
 
The way marriage has become today has destroyed the courage of many women. Some now hate men and even hate marriage entirely — yet they remain in their marital homes for different reasons, whether weak or strong.
 
Sabila’s Life and Struggle
 
That was exactly how Sabila’s life was — one of the women who believed a wife must stay and endure in her husband’s home no matter the hardship. She believed it was better to remain than to abandon her children to an uncertain fate and return home to sit in widowhood, where anyone — noble or worthless — could come pretending to seek her hand in marriage.
 
She knew to achieve this goal, she would need endurance, forgetfulness, patience, and the ability to see everything as nothing. But her husband’s attitude brought her new pains daily — his harsh words broke her heart and weakened her spirit, leaving her to wonder if she would survive or if only her corpse would last in this marriage. Still, she made up her mind to endure, breathing in pain every morning and night.
 
Their house was a small structure built on an open plot — two small rooms side by side, a tiny kitchen, a bathroom, and a narrow courtyard where they kept their water pots, buckets, and dishes because there wasn’t enough space in the kitchen. The firewood stove stood in the courtyard, leaving only enough space for a small mat. Near the entrance was the trash basket and her broom.
 
In the first room — used as a sitting room — an old floor mat was spread with worn-out chairs and her sewing machine, her only source of income. The other room contained their bed — an old foam mattress and cheap bedding that had aged though she had been married only seven months.
 
That morning, her husband was still asleep, lying face down. She looked at him bitterly — it was already half past seven, yet he hadn’t even prayed Fajr because he came home late the previous night. She tried to wake him three times, but fear of his temper kept her silent. Finally, she gathered courage and called softly, “Abban Amal, Abban Amal.”
 
He didn’t reply, just moved his leg — a sign she knew too well that he had heard but wouldn’t answer. She repeated herself, and suddenly he sat up sharply, frowning: “Who are you calling that!?”
 
Her heart raced with fear; she never got used to his anger. Quietly she said, “You know there’s nothing to eat, and I can’t send the children to school hungry.”
 
He hissed. “Then don’t send them! Will they die if they stay home?” he said and turned his back to her.
 
Her heart swelled with pain. After standing silently for a while, she left the room and found her daughters — Amal, wrapped in a towel after her bath, and Minal, sulking. Without asking why, she already knew they were fighting over who would bathe first.
 
She said gently, “Amal, remove that towel and put your clothes back on. You’ll bathe later.”
 
Amal’s face changed, eyes filling with tears. “Ammi, does that mean we won’t go to school again today?” she asked sadly. Minal, on the other hand, jumped in excitement: “Yay! We won’t go! Aunty said she’d give us too much homework today anyway.”
 
“Ammi, please, let’s go,” Amal pleaded. “Uncle said if I miss school often, I’ll never become a doctor.”
 
Sabila sighed. “Be patient, Amal. In sha Allah, you’ll go tomorrow. There’s no charcoal to heat water, and I don’t want you going hungry. Besides, it’s already late.”
 
Amal’s eyes filled with tears as she whispered “Okay,” while Minal continued playing. Amal was only six but thoughtful, gentle, and obedient. She loved school and rarely disobeyed. Minal, aged four, was her opposite — stubborn, lazy, and mischievous.
 
Suddenly, a loud bang! came from the courtyard — the sound of a bucket being thrown. That could only mean one thing: Sanusi was angry because there was no water in it.
 
Then his angry voice followed: “Sabila! Hey, Sabila!”
 
She hurried out. His face was hard. “Are you stupid? How many times have I told you to fill this bucket? Every day it’s the same thing!”
 
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly and bent to lift the bucket, but he snatched it and stormed to the water pot himself.
 
She fetched water for his bath, and when he came out dressed in clean white clothes, he looked fresh and handsome — neat as always. His charm and cleanliness were what had made her fall in love with him back then.
 
She asked softly, “What will we eat?”
 
He gave her a cruel look. “Eat me if you’re hungry!” he snapped.
 
Tears filled her eyes. “I swear I don’t even have five naira. We’re all hungry,” she said weakly.
 
“I’m hungry too,” he replied. “Wait until I get something outside. I’ll bring it when I return.”
 
He walked out, muttering, “Just because you didn’t say ‘come back safely’ doesn’t mean I won’t. Others’ prayers are enough for me — especially those of the better women who text me every morning.”
 
She swallowed her tears. Her stomach was empty since yesterday, but she didn’t want her children to see her crying, so she washed dishes with bare hands and plain water — no soap, no Omo.
 
“How did I end up like this?” she wondered bitterly. “Me, Sabila — I once lived well, admired by many, now I can’t even afford soap in my husband’s house.”
 
Yusuf’s Household
 
Not only women face marital hardship — sometimes it’s the husband who suffers from an incompatible wife. Some men treat their wives with kindness, only to be met with arrogance. Some remain patient; others make decisions that bring painful consequences.
 
Yusuf walked calmly to his gate, unlocked it, and stepped in. His foot hit a ball lying on the floor, almost making him fall. “Subhanallah!” he exclaimed, switching on his phone’s light. He picked up the ball, locked the gate, and walked inside.
 
His house was large — a spacious courtyard wide enough for two cars, with a side room and bathroom, a big veranda fenced with iron rails, a grand sitting room with three bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, a dining area, kitchen, and a store.