Dafin Zuciya Part 1 Compelete Hausa Novel

Ameerah and her younger brother, Ameer, were lying down in a room that could easily be described as a goat shed. While we were fast asleep, we felt cold water splashing on us.

"Won't you wake up, you little brats?" The person saying this was none other than a woman who was roughly between 37 and 39 years old.

She was Abee's wife, and we called her Ummah. We woke up in a panic. If anything, we were used to her endless rage. We knew our routine right away: as soon as we got up, we grabbed buckets and set off to fetch water. After walking a long distance, we reached the water source, which could best be called a stream. We filled every container in the house before I got to work on my usual chores; Ameer couldn't do much heavy lifting anyway due to hunger. Right before our eyes, we watched her and her children eating breakfast, but she didn't care to give us a thing. Ameer kept crying, so I tried to comfort him.

"Stop getting your hopes up for things you won’t get," I told him.

So, I went out to beg for food—usually, I'd manage to get something for us to eat. After finishing everything, we went outside to our usual spot where we sit and dwell on our past lives, wondering where our mother (Ammi) and the rest of our family could be. In the middle of my thoughts, I felt something wet on my body, only to realize they were my own tears.

Ameer said, "I'm going to cry too if you don't stop."

Port Harcourt, Nigeria.

Eshan was sitting on a swivel chair, thinking about the sheer scale of banditry and atrocities happening in the country. It was getting out of hand, and he was pondering how to bring an end to this disaster facing the nation.

Ahmad walked in, calling out greetings, but Eshan didn't hear him until Ahmad gave him a nudge that startled him! He snapped up to his feet. "Hey man, what are you thinking about? Don't tell me you've found us an aunty?"

Eshan frowned deeply. "God forbid. I haven't seen the kind of woman I'd marry yet."

Well, as for me, I said: Uh-oh!