Azaad Junaid Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Marriage Filled with Tension
“What kind of woman are you, Salima? How many times have I told you I do not approve of this trip of yours?”
She sat in front of the mirror, adjusting the headscarf of the tight lace outfit she was wearing. Through the mirror, she threw him a sharp, dismissive look and twisted her lips.
Then she stood up and walked to a large glass display filled with designer shoes and handbags. She paused, staring at it, deciding what to wear.
She picked a golden half-cover from the Lamis Elwan brand along with a matching handbag. Without even acknowledging him, she brushed past him and walked away.
That only worsened his anger.
He clenched his right fist and punched the wall. This was not new—he had long been silently enduring the pain caused by his wife, Salima.
Even he had begun to admit that she was beyond his control.
But this time, he decided he would show her that he was the one in charge—not the other way around.
With heavy, angry steps, he followed her downstairs and caught up with her in the living room.
“Salima!”
The way he shouted her name made the housemaids quickly disappear without making eye contact.
Nanny Lacey, who was feeding their little daughter Ahlam in the dining area, quickly carried the child and left for the children’s room.
“What kind of disrespect is this? I’m talking and you just walk away from me—am I mad or what?”
He said, breathing heavily.
Salima replied without even turning back,
“Look, Azaad, don’t push me. In the end, you’ll regret it.”
Conflict Over Family and Control
“I’m serious, I don’t approve. In fact, I want you to write a resignation letter. It’s time for you to become a full housewife and take care of your children properly. Their upbringing is already getting ruined. You saw what happened at their school today—how can Anisa fight her teacher?”
“Enough is enough, Azaad!”
She cut him off sharply, raising her voice above his.
“I understand what happened to Anisa, but you don’t even care. Instead, you want to blame me for everything!
If you can’t change her school, I can—because I rely on myself, not on you.”
“That’s enough, Salima! I said enough! How many times will you keep changing her school? Her mates are already in senior classes, but she is still in JSS3. Doesn’t that show you how careless she has become?”
“My daughter, you say? So I’m the only one responsible? Aren’t you her father too?”
“Yes, but you are the mother. You should stay home and take care of them. My responsibility is to provide for the family—and I have done that.
And don’t forget, I also have rights over you. It’s been three months since we last shared a bed. Do you think I’m made of stone or that I don’t need a woman?”
Now she turned slightly and said,
“So that’s what this is about, Azaad. Just say it clearly—you don’t want my progress.
Thank God I can stand on my own. I don’t depend on you. If I didn’t have money, do you think you would have married me?”
He looked at her with deep frustration. Every word she spoke only increased his anger.
He was a calm man who hated noise and confrontation. That was why Salima always dominated decisions, even when he wasn’t happy.
But his quiet nature made her think he was weak or afraid of her.
“Salima, you’ve said those words many times—more than I can count. And they hurt every single time.”
“Azaad, leave me alone. I’m tired of your repeated talk. There is nothing new in what you’re saying—you’re just wasting time.”
She adjusted her veil, opened the door, and walked out.
A Lonely Man and His Silent Pain
He stood there, staring at the door she had just walked through, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
After a long moment, he slowly walked upstairs, this time heading toward his private section.
He passed through a large living room, then another even more beautifully designed one, before entering his master bedroom through a glass door.
He sat down on a resting chair and began rubbing his neatly kept beard with his right hand.
He wondered—what exactly was Salima looking for in life?
Allah had given him everything: wealth beyond measure, enough for generations.
So what else was left for her to chase, if not the hereafter?
Yet, in all her ways, there was no sign of concern for the hereafter.
In sixteen years of marriage, he could not remember a single moment of true happiness.
His life had been filled with quiet suffering.
Allah gave him the world—but denied him peace.
He had grown up an orphan. His mother, who was Hindu, died early.
He was raised by his grandmother. While he was still pursuing his first degree, he lost his father—who left behind enormous wealth and multiple wives.
His mother had been the third wife, and she had only one child—Azaad.
Now, despite everything he had, he sat alone…
rich, powerful—yet deeply unhappy.