Babban Yaro Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

The Shame of a Man
 
“You appear like a complete man, yet it’s shameful—thirty-three years old and still unmarried! A fearless hunter in the wild but a coward at home. How can a man like you lack peace within his own house?”
 
These words came from an old woman. I glanced at the man she was addressing. His back was turned, dressed in thick black hunting gear, the robe wide on the shoulders and stopping just below the knees. He wore jeans and high-laced boots. Just seeing his back made me doubt the old woman’s words. He looked like the image of a true man—broad chest, firm muscles, and no trace of weakness.
 
She called again, “Umaru! Will you sleep at home tonight?”
 
Without turning, he replied in a harsh tone, “No! I won’t sleep at home.”
 
His voice was so tense, I froze where I stood, pretending to fix my pen and notebook. The woman sighed. “Good thing I asked. It's almost sunset—I’ll lock my door, go fend for yourself.”
 
Umaru didn’t reply. I watched as he tied large charms around his arm, then placed a fur cap with ear flaps on his head. When he finally turned, I dropped my gaze quickly.
 
A Terrifying Presence
 
His eyes were bloodshot, lips dark from constant smoking and drug use. His skin looked weathered. Suddenly, he let out a loud scream and began beating his chest, chanting:
 
“I am Umaru! The man of the world! Destroyer of wild beasts! First and only son! Terror of the fearless! Knives do not pierce me! I am Umaru! Master of a hundred dogs! Loved north, south, east, and west!”
 
He flailed about the room, rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw. The old woman tried to calm him, but he shoved her aside and unsheathed a glowing dagger, rubbing it across his body.
 
Frightened, I ran outside and hid behind a tree. After about ten minutes, he emerged—fully armed with bows, knives, and hunter’s gear hanging from every side. I knew then this was not just a man. This was Goje, a born warrior.
 
The Warrior's Call
 
Soon, a pack of fierce dogs followed him from the back of the house, and ten strong young men in matching gear surrounded him.
 
They chanted, “Goje! Warrior at home and in the field! Umarul-Faruk! No jokes! No fear! Lion of the jungle!”
 
Umaru nodded and warned them, “We’ll be gone for a week. Hope you all said goodbye to your families.”
 
They nodded in respect and followed him, with their dogs growling as they marched out of the neighborhood.
 
The Kidnapped Princess
 
Elsewhere, a girl had been kidnapped. Her face was bound, her body drenched in sweat. Fearful and helpless, she whispered the shahada, believing death was near.
 
Their vehicle sped into the night until it suddenly skidded and crashed into a ditch. The girl, tied and weak, felt fire catching the edge of her clothes.
 
Umaru and his team, alerted by the noise and dog barks, rushed to the scene. He kicked open the car door, and the kidnappers scrambled to escape—except the driver, who died as flames engulfed the vehicle.
 
He saw the girl—bound and burning. Without hesitation, he signaled for light, then carried her out just in time. Her thighs were badly burned.
 
A Royal Revelation
 
He laid her on the grass and removed the burning cloth. She flinched in pain. As he untied her face, she slapped at him in fury.
 
He caught her hand and squeezed—hard. Her fingers cracked. She screamed, “I am Princess Zinat! You will regret this insult. You’ll pay for what the palace couldn’t do!”
 
Umaru looked into her eyes, hissed, and walked away. She tried to rise but collapsed from pain. He called his men, and without a word, they followed him back into the forest.
 
“Take me to my parents!” she cried, but no one answered.
 
Alone in the Wild
 
She stood, wrapped herself with the cloth they used to tie her, and followed the trail. She wasn’t one for prayer or faith—arrogance and pride shaped her life. But now, she was vulnerable.
 
She tripped over a root and hit her head. Blood flowed. She screamed, attracting wild animals. Umaru and his men froze. Using hand signals, he instructed silence.
 
She collapsed, unconscious, blood soaking her face and clothes.
 
The Saving Grace
 
Umaru readied his bow. A massive snake lunged at him—he leapt and severed its head mid-air with his dagger. Then, he turned and saw the girl. Something compelled him to help.
 
He tore a cloth, wrapped her head to stop the bleeding, and carried her again—this time on his back. His pace didn’t slow. His only mission now: find water and save her.
 
When they reached a stream, he gently laid her down, scooped water, and poured it over her burned skin. She gasped as life returned to her body. Her eyelids fluttered; she tried to open them, but pain held them shut.
 
He watched her, stunned by his own actions.
 
Final Thoughts
 
Umaru, once seen as wild and dangerous, now revealed another side—a complex mix of brute strength and buried compassion. Whether it was the princess’s bold defiance or her helpless state, something in him shifted.
 
This was no longer just about hunting beasts. This was about facing the wildness within himself.