Auren Huce Haushi Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

Arrival at the Compound
 
Slowly the car in the lane came to a stop beside a large gate. The way it hummed suggested it had traveled a long distance. The driver did not blow the horn; at the sound of the gate opening near a small tree he steered the car in. Some elders got out from the back of the vehicle while a young man stepped down from the driver’s seat. He greeted the driver with salaam.
 
They approached the house gate barefoot — the young man did not knock like he had the previous two times; instead an old man peered through a small side door beside the gate. Quickly he opened it and said, “No—Alhaji, welcome, have you had a good journey? Peace be upon you.” They returned the greeting and clasped hands while murmuring, “By God, state how you found us, sir Sani?”
 
He replied cheerfully, “Alhamdulillah.” Before he moved on he said, “Wait, let me take you to where Alhaji is — may God help him, he is there.” They entered the courtyard and were guided past where Malam Sani stood to the place where the host received guests.
 
When they arrived at his door, Malam Sani came out saying, “Bismillah, enter — peace be upon you.” He quickly excused himself to carry out Alhaji’s order to call his most trusted aide, Malam Bukar. After exchanging formal greetings they entered the reception hall. Masha Allah — the room was full of the comforts of life, like a noble’s residence.
 
With a smiling face Alhaji Jafar approached and said, “Ah! Alhaji Sulaiman, you came — on this day too, such a long journey!” But inwardly he was surprised; he did not expect anyone to arrive at this moment. They still had three days before the planned event, and they had already provided everything required; all that remained was waiting. Yet whatever comes, God brings what is best.
 
After the usual salutations, one of Alhaji Jafar’s sons entered, greeted them, placed glasses of water and lemonade, then left. A young man also came in carrying large warmers and a girl with a basket of plates, cutlery and cups — they greeted and left. When this small bounty was brought in, Alhaji Sulaiman lowered his head; his heart was heavy as if the sight overwhelmed him.
 
“Bismillah—eat before we go to prayer since Dhuhr has come,” Alhaji Jafar said as he headed for the exit. Once Alhaji Jafar left, Alhaji Ismail looked at his brother Alhaji Sulaiman and muttered, “I am truly confused; I don’t know where to begin with this talk, considering the generosity of our host.” He sighed quietly.
 
The young man who had driven them spoke up, “By God, Daddy, I think you should accept her. Let Hajiya come and tell them openly what she planned. I’ve never seen such a thing — the event was handled with respect until this issue arose. It’s unfortunate; I truly pity Musbahu who has been put into such a situation, but she herself—”
 
Alhaji Sulaiman did not respond further or look at the food despite his hunger; he only drank the lemonade and water. Alhaji Ismail and Al-Amin ate, then left for the mosque near the gate. They all returned after the prayer, including Malam Bukar who led the prayer. They exchanged new greetings, but this time Al-Amin did not join them.
 
Alhaji Sulaiman found the courage to speak and looked at Malam Bukar. “Please, Malam, excuse what we’ve brought. By God, this is not from our house; nothing like this will come from me again in this town.” He fell silent and could not finish his words because something was stuck in his throat, making him uncomfortable.
 
Alhaji Jafar too seemed struck — a heavy feeling hit him that made his face change. Silence filled the reception briefly before Malam Bukar spoke: “Alhaji, say whatever you must — there’s no problem. Life is what it is; true believers know destiny. No worries; we live together.”
 
Alhaji Ismail took up the thread since his brother seemed unwilling to continue. “Forgive me, Malam. The issue concerns the marriage between our son and your daughter. A disturbance arose three days ago. Her mother refused to consent to Musbahu marrying Zahra. No matter how we tried to fix things it failed. In the end she said if Musbahu marries Zahra she cannot forgive him — she gave us reasons for her anger and kept repeating them. She has become so hardened she won’t change her mind.” As Alhaji Ismail explained, Alhaji Jafar kept repeating “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un,” for every ounce of strength had left him at the calamity: every time this marriage matter comes up, something goes wrong. He didn’t know how to handle it.
 
Malam Bukar was also at a loss for words; all his efforts were spent. While Alhaji Sulaiman kept apologizing repeatedly, Malam Bukar comforted them: “Oh Alhaji, it’s nothing. Everything is from God. If it is not predestined, then it is not meant to be — God will grant what is best.” They all said “Amin.”
 
“But this situation is not pleasant,” Alhaji Ismail continued. “I can’t lie — before a worthy groom is found for that girl they will keep searching. They will waste time.” As they accompanied them to their cars, they continued apologizing. Once the guests left, silence settled back over the reception; everyone wondered what destiny was following that young girl — three marriage attempts have already failed.
 
With concern, Alhaji Jafar told Malam Bukar: “Malam, God willing, this time I will marry Fatima because I feel I no longer have patience for this business. If God wills, I’ll see it through.”
 
When Alhaji Jafar began, Malam Bukar shook his head — the matter had worn him out; he knew there were complications around the girl and that the situation had been prolonged. With sadness the Malam looked at his trusted aide and said, “Please, Alhaji, be patient. Don’t do anything in anger and say you’ll marry her off without careful thought.” He sat down on the chair beside the Malam and sighed.
 
“I am not acting in anger against God’s will,” Alhaji Jafar replied. “I’m only tired of this constant back-and-forth: I’m tired of playing the lesser role in wedding alliances, of being left out. By God, unless I promise to stop arranging cousins’ marriages, I would have married Fatima to Abdul Hakeem yesterday. But now she’s still unmarried; seek Mahmud’s advice — he’s here with you; if he agrees, I will give her in marriage.”
 
Malam Bukar was surprised and asked, “Which Mahmud? Is he here?” Alhaji Jafar replied, nodding, “I mean, is there a man by that name here?” Malam Bukar shook his head and said, “No. But the matter of Mahmud should not be hidden in your place; let the world not blame us.” Alhaji adjusted his seat and looked closely at his confidant. “By God, Malam, I am not escaping; I only admire his calmness. If it happens that he is not the right match, then God did not intend her for him. I have long considered this for my children.” Malam Bukar nodded approvingly; the affair had troubled him for a long time — he had observed that Fatima’s intended husband was not nearby, and some matter surrounded her husband with dignity and light. He often asked his students to pray for her, though he never told Alhaji. They continued to shuffle ideas back and forth before the Malam asked the young man for his opinion.
 
The Bridal Shower and Zahra’s Unease
 
She descended the stairs slowly like someone in a trance, wearing makeup and a lovely pretty dress; a small purse hung at her side. Two young girls followed, each carrying her things. Even before she reached the reception, her scent of perfume brought a calm to the hall. The room was full of people; when her name was called the little children answered.
 
Quickly one woman moved toward them excitedly, saying, “Mashallah — the bride! May God remove hardship and grant peace. Hajiya Zahra — see how joyous they are: from the Fulani of Mubi to the Arabs of Jordan and Medina, behold her original beauty. May Allah bless you, bride, at Mushahu’s home.”
 
One of the women standing rose and rushed to kiss Zahra’s hand while praising her. Aunty Hasana came from a small corridor and approached, reciting tasbih for the Lord who created Zahra’s beautiful face. Zahra smiled and teased Baba Tabawa — her companion — about being a professional kiss-giver.
 
They all laughed. The women of the bridal shower escorted Zahra. They took photos as if there were no tomorrow, but those who knew Zahra could see she wasn’t entirely carefree. Immediately she felt a strange sinking in her chest and a deep sense of unease. She herself did not understand what troubled her: she had been trying to reach Mushahu since yesterday but couldn’t find him, and his friend Deeni was also silent. Today was the day they were supposed to arrive at the hotel where the celebrations were to be held — they had even arranged the booking and the keys.
 
They enjoyed themselves for a long time — they were to bring his children and some of his relations later. By nine o’clock the festivities wound down. Zahra did not return to the accommodation where they had been hosted; instead she went to Aunty Hasana’s ground-floor bedroom. The room was empty; only the scent of freshener and incense lingered, and the cool whirr of the AC filled the air. She removed her headscarf and put it on the bedside locker next to the lamp, then lay down on the bed as if she were not a person — she did not want to move. A heavy lethargy had come over her.
 
She lay there for a while before she heard someone open the door. She lifted her head and saw who it was — it was her aunt. She sat close and placed her hand on Zahra’s neck. “What’s wrong with you? Since morning I’ve been watching your mood; you look uneasy.”
 
Zahra fixed her with a stare and tried to answer. She struggled to sit up and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Aunt Sam. I’m not feeling happy at all — my heart is burning and my stomach keeps dropping.” She began to weep softly, almost inaudibly.
 
“What is there to cry about? You should be happy — Allah has brought your wedding day; this is not like past times of trouble.” Aunt Sam bit her lip and kept quiet with sad tears. She let her cry until Zahra could find the courage to speak. Finally Zahra said, “Aunt, I swear to God I feel like this will end badly. Yesterday I had a dream that they would cancel my marriage.”