Bazan Barshi Ba Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Torn Cloth and a Father’s Promise
Her father fell into a deep silence as he stared at Rayyanat. She was chocolate-skinned, neither fat nor thin, just perfectly built and naturally beautiful. She wore a blouse and wrapper that were mismatched in color, with a headscarf that didn’t match either. The wrapper she had on was torn, and she kept holding the ripped part, afraid her body might show.
He said softly,
“Rayyanat, didn’t you find a needle and thread this time?”
“No, Abba,” she replied, her voice breaking into tears. “I went to ask, but they said they wouldn’t lend me again. They’re tired of buying thread that I always finish.”
Her father quickly said,
“Don’t cry, Rayyanat. Insha Allah, if the village head pays me today for the farm work I did for him, I’ll buy you a needle and thread so you can stop borrowing from neighbors, okay?”
“Alright, Abba. Thank you. May Allah grant success more than usual.”
“Amin, Rayyanat. I’m leaving now. Take care of yourself, and no roaming around neighbors.”
“Insha Allah… but Abba, don’t you want me to escort you today?”
“Rayyanat, how will you go out when your wrapper is torn, especially with the young men loitering at the village square?”
“That’s true, Abba. May Allah protect your journey.”
“Amin.”
He left with his hoe hung over his shoulder, while Rayyanat watched him go. His clothes too were old and worn out. She stood there until he disappeared from sight, then returned to the room and sat down.
She looked around her small room. There was nothing of value—just a few clothes that barely made up two or three outfits, an old mattress she slept on, a flat pillow that looked like crushed bread, a mosquito net folded and stuck to the window, and two small containers whose contents were unknown.
Hunger, Friendship, and a Sudden Farewell
As she surveyed the room, hunger twisted her stomach painfully. Since yesterday morning, when she and her father last ate, they hadn’t had anything else—not even up to the next day.
She lay down, hoping sleep would come before her father returned, but hunger wouldn’t allow her rest. Just like the previous night, she struggled until she filled her stomach with water. Even now, she went out, drank water again, and returned to lie down.
Sleep was just beginning to take her when she heard a greeting from her friend, Sarat.
Rayyanat answered, and Sarat entered. She was tall, slim, dark-skinned, and beautiful in her own way. Sitting down, she said,
“Rayyanat, please forgive me. I wanted to come yesterday, but preparations for our trip back to the city kept me busy.”
Rayyanat smiled faintly, imagining it was she and her father going to the city. She had always deeply desired to visit the city, but not even once had she been lucky enough to go.
Sarat handed her a small black nylon bag, the kind used for a single portion of food.
“Please don’t refuse it. I know your nature, and I didn’t buy it for any hidden reason. I know how much you love cassava, so I bought it for you at the market. Please forgive me—I know you don’t like this.”
“It’s okay, Sarat. Today I’ll accept your gift because you’re leaving and I don’t even know when we’ll meet again. Thank you. When are you leaving?”
“Today—right now. That’s why I apologized for not coming earlier.”
“Don’t worry. I know how much you care about me. That’s why I don’t have any friend better than you.”
“Thank you, Rayyanat. I have to go now. My parents are already waiting by the gate with the car.”
Rayyanat stood up and walked out with her. She bent respectfully and greeted Sarat’s parents. Then a young man stepped out of the car—it was clear he was Sarat’s brother.
Out of shyness, Rayyanat lowered her head. The young man smiled and said,
“I have loved you for a long time, Rayyanat, and I will never stop. Through every hardship and difficulty, my love for you remains in my heart—even if I am no longer alive.”
A Promise of Love That Defies Distance
“Please accept this,” he continued. “It is my first gift to you. Whenever you wear what’s inside, you will feel happy, as though I’m right there with you. I hope my beloved will accept this gift, if only for the pure love she has for me.”
With a calm, gentle voice filled with compassion, Rayyanat replied,
“Brother Anwar, I have never accepted a gift from any man except my father. But today, I will start with you. And I promise you— you are the only man whose gifts I will continue to accept forever. I will never break this promise. Always remember that, just as I will guard it carefully.”
Slowly, he closed his beautiful eyes and said,
“Insha Allah, Rayyanat. Goodbye. Please take care of yourself for me.”
He entered the car, sat in the driver’s seat, and drove off, struggling to hold back the tears threatening to fall as he watched Rayyanat’s face through the mirror.
Sarat waved goodbye to Rayyanat, both of them shedding tears.
Rayyanat stood there until they disappeared from sight. Then she looked at the nylon bag in her hand, hugged it tightly to her chest, and hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered:
“I love you, Brother Anwar, and I will never stop loving you forever. Through every hardship and difficulty, I am with you—even if I am no longer alive. My soul will always be with you.”