Buzu Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

Jamila’s Distress and Hajiya Sa’a’s Manipulation
 
Jamila burst into heavy sobs, trembling as she cried, “I am finished. So now an evil spirit has slept with me?”
 
“Yes, but it entered a human body and used you,” she told Jamila directly, without any hesitation.
 
“I’m ruined. Who will marry me now? What will I do? My life is destroyed.”
 
Hajiya Sa’a held Jamila’s hand and said, “I’ve told you many times, a coward never becomes great, Jamila. Marriage is not compulsory. If you are with me, you will get everything you want. If it’s marriage you want, you will choose your husband yourself, and you will be properly restored—no one will ever know you were touched. And the organization has paid your yearly money. It’s with me, I will be giving it to you gradually so no one notices. Calm your mind, be strong, don’t let anything frighten you. You have your money, relax and enjoy life. You are the youngest in the group. I truly love you. I wanted to bring your sister too, but it was not possible. I pity the life you live in your house. Remove every worry from your heart, remove fear and pity completely. You will go places you never imagined.”
 
Jamila raised her head and gave Hajiya Sa’a a look only the two of them understood. She wiped her tears and said, “Alright.”
 
Hajiya Sa’a smiled. “Good, my Daughter. Get up, let me bathe you. Eat something, the organization’s doctor will come to examine you.” Jamila dragged herself up weakly and followed her to the bathroom.
 
Jamila later forced herself to relax. Her body became lighter, the severe pain had stopped, and even the aches disappeared. But deep inside her chest she felt an explosion of fear and anxiety. What happened haunted her—an evil spirit violating her through a human body. She wept in the bathroom until her eyes swelled.
 
Wrapped in her blanket, her phone rang. She picked it up. It was Abba.
 
“My sister, I haven’t heard from you today, hope you’re fine?”
 
His voice broke her. Shaking, she replied, “Yaya Abba, I’m not fine.”
 
“Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un, what happened?”
 
Unable to explain, she broke into tears. He panicked and comforted her frantically.
 
After much coaxing, she told him her stomach was hurting.
 
“Where is your Mummy? Didn’t she take you to the hospital?”
 
“She took me. They gave me medicine. Please don’t mention anything to her, she tried her best. Please don’t tell her.”
 
“I won’t. She doesn’t even know I have your number. Just rest, my sister.”
 
She thanked him and hung up, letting tears flow endlessly.
 
Sayyid’s Weakness, Nana’s Care, and Barira’s Interruption
 
It was now the fourth day that Sayyid had been in this condition. Nana’s biggest worry was that he hadn’t eaten nor prayed—only sleeping and sitting silently. He didn’t speak, only stared at her. She prayed continuously. Even Ummi had not visited, so no one knew what they were going through.
 
At 9 p.m., she sat on the floor near her stove, watching him lying weakly on the mattress. She raised her hands as if to pray, recited Suratul Mulk, Ayatul Kursiyyu, Suratul Falaq and An-Nas. She blew into her hands and gently rubbed his face, though she was afraid. When he didn’t react, she lay down and kept thinking.
 
In her sleep, she felt someone pushing her. She opened her eyes quickly and saw him trying to lie beside her despite the tight space.
 
“Sayyid,” she called softly.
 
“Yes.”
 
She sighed deeply and held his hand. “What is it?”
 
“I can’t sleep. You left me alone on the mattress.”
 
With care and relief, she rubbed his back. “I saw you breathing with difficulty, so I moved.”
 
“Ma vie.”
 
“Yes, my Leader.”
 
“I’m hungry, like I haven’t eaten in my life.”
 
“Let me cook something quickly. Come, let’s wash your mouth first; it’s the middle of the night.”
 
He stood, swaying from hunger, sickness, and weakness. She supported him. After washing, she peeled yams and set a small stove at the doorway. She fanned him gently.
 
“My life.”
 
“Sayyid.”
 
“Didn’t we eat breakfast today?”
 
Nana replied, “You’ve been asleep for four days. I can only thank Allah that you woke up.” He said nothing.
 
She cooked the yam and made tea, then fed him herself. He didn’t wait—he ate greedily, dipping hand into bowl and cup. Nana was relieved seeing him eat well again.
 
Afterward, she bathed him like a child, helped him perform ablution, and he began making up missed prayers. She told him not to force himself, but he insisted. As he prayed, he weakened and sat down. She watched him silently, noticing how much they shared in character.
 
By 3:30 a.m., he said, “I can’t continue. My breathing.”
 
“Do it lying down then?”
 
He shook his head. “I prefer sitting or standing.”
 
Seeing him sweating, she lifted the curtain, spread a mat, placed pillows and helped him lie down. She sat beside him, fanning him and placing her hand on his forehead while reciting whatever she remembered.
 
He slipped his hand into her clothing softly, though his eyes were shut. She smiled and continued her recitations. When he tickled her, she lay on his chest, laughing. He laughed too and whispered, “Come lie close to me.”
 
Before she answered, a flashlight shone on them. He quickly buried his head in her lap. Nana covered her face.
 
It was Barira. “Sorry, I heard movement and got scared so I came out. Forgive me.” She turned off the light and left.
 
“Sayyid, I know you didn’t like that. I’m sorry.”
 
He stayed silent, face still hidden. She stroked his hair. “Leader, talk to me. It makes me happy. You’ve slept four days without speaking to me.”
 
Slowly he turned. She smiled. “Good, My Life.”
 
“Have you stopped vomiting?” he asked suddenly.
 
“Yes, I’ve stopped.”
 
“May Allah let you give birth this time.”
 
“Amin. And may Allah give you health, so we raise our two children together—the older and the younger.”
 
He smiled. “Insha Allah. Before you give birth, when I’m strong, I’ll look for a job and take care of you myself.”
 
“Amin. But Sayyid, where is the money I saw in your wardrobe? I didn’t see it when packing. We could have used it for medicine and to move houses.”
 
“Oh, Habu took it the last time he came. He took a lot of Nigerian money and left some Nigerien money. If you check well, it’s still there.”
 
“No, I don’t pack your things. Tomorrow, let’s count it and see if it’s enough.”
 
“Alright. Sleep.”
 
She smiled and lay beside him. “Sayyid, if we don’t see Habu, I think you and I will go to Niger ourselves and look for your relatives.”
 
He didn’t respond—he had already fallen asleep.
 
Rumors, Misunderstandings, and Conversations Across Households
 
Shukura wondered why he was still sitting in the car. His phone vibrated with a strange number. He picked up.
 
“Hello?”
Her voice hit his ears. He widened his eyes.
 
“Who is this?”
 
Weakly, she said, “Beb, so you’ve forgotten even my voice? Thank you.” She ended the call.
 
He tried calling back repeatedly but the phone didn’t connect. He sighed and drove off. Shukura, peeking through the curtain, finally saw him leave.
 
Then a video call came from Hajiya Amina. Shukura answered cheerfully.
 
“How is worship, Mummy?”
 
“Alhamdulillah. Shukura, why don’t you listen? I’m doing my worship peacefully and you make me upset. Your father called me from Abuja—he’s angry. Doctor Sharif called him in distress, saying you accused him publicly of killing people. Is this how one behaves after losing a child? Why won’t you grow up?”
 
Shukura frowned. “Mummy, can you hear me clearly?”
 
“Yes, loud and clear.”
 
“When you reach the Ka’abah, pray for me. If I’m truly right, may Allah support me and strengthen me. But if I’m wrong, may Allah remove this feeling from me. You’ll return – but there is a serious issue.”
 
“What issue can stop a Muslim from trusting Allah?”
 
“You’ll know when you come back.”
 
“Alright. But truly, your father is upset.”
 
Shukura calmed her until she ended the call.
 
Elsewhere, Nana was fetching water when Barira approached.
 
“Nana, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to flash the light on you.”
 
“It’s nothing,” Nana replied.
 
Sajida asked, “What exactly did you see?”
 
Barira burst out laughing. “Nothing, even though what I saw wasn’t appropriate. But Nana, is your husband an Arab or a white man? Since you came, we’ve never seen him. But he looks like a tall woman.”
 
Nana ignored her and went inside with the water.
 
Sajida mocked, laughing loudly. “You and your nosiness, she even glared at you.”
 
“She thinks she’s too important, like someone’s princess. If she really was, they wouldn’t be renting one room.” They said all this loud enough for Nana to hear, but she pretended not to.