Depression Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Emergency at the Hospital
 
In a rush, he drove the car into the hospital compound, braking so hard that the screeching echoed. He quickly opened the car door without minding the people seated nearby. He rushed out and opened the back door, pulling out a young lady dressed only in a wrapper tied around her chest, her hair completely covering her face so one could hardly recognize her features.
 
He carried her on his shoulders and hurried inside the hospital, calling out loudly:
“Doctor! Doctor!! Please help me!”
 
Before he could finish his words, the doctors, alarmed, rushed out and took the young woman, placing her on a stretcher and wheeling her toward the delivery room. But before they could reach the room, she screamed and passed away.
 
Terrified, the man looked at the doctor as she said:
“We have lost her, she is gone.”
 
Another doctor quickly noticed her belly moving and said:
“Indeed, her baby is still alive.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Bring the surgical tools, quickly—take her into the operating room.”
 
Without delay, they began an emergency operation. By the help of God, they succeeded in delivering a baby girl. They then stitched the mother’s body. While one doctor held the newborn for cleaning, another, with a heavy heart, stepped outside to inform the man who brought her.
 
He found him pacing back and forth, sweating, restless. As soon as the man saw the doctor, he rushed to him and asked:
“Doctor, how is she?”
 
The doctor, filled with pity, said quietly:
“I am sorry… we could not save her. The one who brought her into this world has returned to her Lord.”
 
The man wiped his tears with his hand, sobbing:
“Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un! Truly to God we belong and to Him we shall return.”
 
The doctor continued:
“She died before she could deliver, but we managed to perform surgery and bring out her child—a baby girl.”
 
The man shut his eyes, forcing a smile of courage and said:
“Allah gives and takes. He took Fateema away from me but gave me this baby girl at the same time. May He preserve her life. Doctor, how can we take the body home?”
 
“Don’t worry. We will arrange prayers for her. But first, call her family, for you cannot handle this alone.”
 
“No doctor, Fateema had no family here. I was her only support, and I too have no one here except my wife, who was her close companion.”
 
“Alright, then we will help you return with her body.”
“Thank you very much, doctor.”
 
Fateema’s Last Confession
 
Life keeps turning, time keeps running, and breath keeps decreasing. That day, Fateema found herself at the end of her journey. When her heart condition flared, Zainab sat beside her fanning her nose and watching her closely. Fateema looked deep into her eyes and said:
 
“Zainab, I know my illness will not let me survive. Zaido, my child, is too young to care for the baby I carry. I have no one here in Adamawa. My entire family lives in France. If I were sure of long life, I would not burden you. But let me tell you a secret you never knew about me: I am a star in our continent, and I am not poor. My father is a wealthy businessman, my mother is of royal German blood, and my family resides in France. Please, after my death, keep this box for my child so she can one day find her people.”
 
She brought out a small box with fifteen precious stones, each marked with a number.
“Is this gold?” Zainab asked.
“Yes, it is. These are codes linked to my father. Through them, Zaido can trace his mother’s family. I beg you, protect them and never let my children suffer.”
 
Zainab, trembling, replied:
“Insha Allah, I will keep your trust.”
 
Suddenly, Fateema screamed loudly. Zainab panicked and called Malan, who rushed in and carried her out to the car, speeding her to the hospital.
 
This was what happened before they arrived at the hospital.
 
The Baby’s Struggles After Fateema’s Death
 
After the doctor helped Malan return with Fateema’s body, Zainab cried and fainted as if she loved her dearly. Little Zaido, only four years old, cried too, seeing his father cry. Sumayya and Munira, Malan’s older children, also wailed, though their mother had raised them in cruelty.
 
Fateema was washed, prayed over, and buried in her true resting home—the grave. May Allah grant us all a good end, Ameen.
 
By noon, Malan returned from the cemetery. The doctor had given him the newborn girl with words of condolence. Looking at her, Malan was astonished—she was the exact image of her late mother. Instantly, love and compassion filled his heart. But he feared entrusting her to Zainab, knowing her wickedness. He thought: Who else will take care of her if not Zainab?
 
He entered the house carrying the baby. Zainab rushed to him. When she saw the baby’s face resembling Fateema’s, her heart burned with hatred. She asked, “Malan, is this Fateema’s daughter?”
“Yes, she is. Fear Allah, and take care of her. If you harm her, remember Allah sees you.”
 
Pretending, Zainab replied:
“Do you think I would harm your own blood, Malan? Never.”
 
But when she entered her room with her daughter Sumayya, her real face appeared. Sumayya asked:
“Umma, what will you do with her? I already feel jealous. Father loves her more than us.”
 
Zainab hissed:
“Exactly! He loved her mother and now her. I will see to it that this baby does not live long. Tonight, I will deny her milk—she will not survive.”
 
That night, she placed the baby on the bed and left her hungry. The poor child cried loudly, but Zainab ignored her. Sumayya, moved by pity, pinched the baby’s leg, and her skin reddened instantly.
 
Later, Malan returned from mourning. Hearing the baby’s cries, he asked:
“Zainab, can’t you hear the baby crying?”
 
Startled, Zainab pretended:
“Oh, Malan, forgive me. I was lost in grief over Fateema’s death. I already fed her and laid her down.”
 
Malan sighed and said:
“Bring me the milk. I will feed her myself.”
 
Zainab reluctantly brought it, hiding her anger. Sumayya went to fetch the baby but found her nearly falling off the bed. In trying to lift her, the baby slipped and hit the floor, screaming loudly.
 
Malan, rushing in, cried:
“Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un! Sumayya, why did this happen?”
“Wallahi Abba, I don’t know. I found her already on the floor.”
 
He picked up the baby, holding her tightly, his heart pounding with fear and love for her.
 
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Zainab laughed wickedly with Sumayya’s report, planning more harm for the innocent baby.