Bibiyata Yake Yi Part Complete Hausa Novel

A Love for Football and Constant Reproach
The moment I sensed someone was about to enter the room, I quickly took my eyes off the wall-mounted flat TV and shifted my attention to the book in front of me. With a greeting, she opened the room’s door and walked in, then sat on one of the chairs in the sitting room. She was a young woman, not more than thirty-eight years old. She looked at me, smacked her lips, grabbed the remote, and said:
“This is my room, yet I’m not even allowed to watch the channel I like. Every single day it has to be this football channel. You’re a woman—honestly, I don’t understand what connects you to this annoying football watching.”
I said nothing as she changed the channel to a Hausa program and dropped the remote. I stood up with a pout, walked out of the room, and heard her saying behind me:
“I already knew this so-called studying is just hypocrisy. All you do is watch football.”
Without saying a word, I went straight to my father’s wife’s room, whom we call Aunty, sat down there, and continued watching my match. When the match ended, my heart finally settled because the team I supported won. Happy and relaxed, I left for my mother’s room. I found her in the inner room and sat down as she said:
“So you’re done watching football?”
Without waiting for my answer, she continued, “Now focus properly and study, since you’re done with your ‘worship.’”
I pouted and replied, “Mama, I’ve already finished studying. I was just revising.”
She sighed and began advising me seriously, reminding me of how difficult it was for me to even start the program, how much money was gathered to register me simply because I showed interest, and how disappointed my father would be if I failed. She warned me that if I failed and kept playing around, my father might decide to marry me off early to ease his burdens. But if I passed, even if marriage came later, my husband would help me complete my education.
I quickly shook my head and begged her to stop saying such things, assuring her that I would study and pass. After a long look at me, she finally said, “May Allah make it easy.”
“Amin,” I replied.
Because of how badly I wanted to pass that exam, I barely slept that night.
Exams, Responsibilities, and Family Life
The next morning, I woke up before everyone else. I could hear my father knocking on doors, waking everyone for the dawn prayer. After praying, I bathed, dressed up, skipped breakfast, and left early since my exam was by 7 a.m. Mama gave me transport money, and I quietly exited the compound. I struggled to find a ride but eventually got one to school.
By noon, I had finished everything I needed to do and returned home hungry since I didn’t have enough money for food outside. When I entered the compound, I found Mama and Aunty sorting rice. I greeted them, changed into house clothes, ate something, then joined them while constantly checking Mama’s phone clock, anxious not to miss the football match.
When there were only two minutes left to kickoff, I rushed into the room, changed the channel, and sat down. I barely blinked, not wanting to miss anything—even though it wasn’t my favorite team playing. When a goal was scored, I screamed loudly, causing Mama to rush in angrily.
She scolded me harshly, accusing me of laziness and warning me to stop before my father came in and saw us working while I watched TV. I begged her, explaining I had just returned from school and needed a short rest. She wasn’t convinced and ordered me back to work.
Reluctantly, I joined them again. After finishing, I cooked the rice and continued helping absentmindedly. When my father returned, he asked about my exam. I told him it went well and that the final paper was the next day. He prayed for me and reminded me to resume studying immediately after chores.
Later, my younger siblings returned from school, and I helped them change. I used the opportunity to escape more chores by staying back to study. The next day, I wrote my final exam, returned home happily, and helped freely since there were no exams or football matches ahead.
New Arrivals and Unanswered Questions
Saturday came, and I escorted my siblings to Islamiyya school as usual. Aunty later brought us food. By evening, we returned home together. On Sunday, Hussain fell ill with a high fever but was still taken to school. Later, his teacher called me, and I carried him home on my back. Mama gave him paracetamol, and his fever reduced.
While this was happening, my elder brother Ahmad arrived. His attitude toward Aunty was cold, which disturbed me deeply. Soon after, I noticed unfamiliar women’s shoes in my father’s room—something that confused me greatly. I had no time to investigate, as my siblings were waiting.
Later, it was revealed that two girls, Fadeelah and Aysha, relatives of my father, had been brought to live with us permanently. Mama accepted them warmly, but Aunty seemed deeply troubled. That night, I questioned Aunty about my brother’s hostility toward her. She avoided the full truth but encouraged me to study hard and become a support for the children.
I sensed she was hiding something. Even later, when I asked Mama about the tension between my brother and Aunty, she brushed me off, asking why I was so curious. I explained that I hated how things were going in the house and wished I could fix them if I had the power.
And that was where my questions truly began.