Duba Min Baya Fakon Biri Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Here is the direct English translation of the text:
The "Akori Kura" village vehicle carried luggage, carried them all, and took them down the slope of the...
This was the song we used to sing at night when we played under the bright moonlight at the village square. I remembered it today because we are now in the back of this old "Akori Kura" vehicle that carried us along with our belongings and even my short, stubby goat—a great breeder given to me by my mother, who bought it in my name.
For my mother used to say my hands brought blessings to livestock rearing. She realized this back when my older siblings were around, when a chicken was first gifted to me in my name. That chicken is what eventually transformed today into this goat that I rear, which breeds consistently for me. As we grew up, the male offspring were sold, and my mother gathered the money together to bring with us here to Katsina when we were coming.
Fundamentally, our relocation to Katsina was caused by the quarrels between my father and the other women of the household, which was triggered by disputes among the children. This led to conflict and insults; we endured regular taunts even though we were children, as they would make remarks referring to us as the children of stepchildren (outsiders) in the house.
Whenever a minor argument happened between us, they would say to us, "Sani is better than an outsider with a share in an inherited house," back when I didn't even know the meaning of it, until I eventually understood what they meant by those words toward us.
In other words, they meant that we and our parents had crowded the house—that my father had come to the landowners' house to live as a guest but was trying to overpower the actual owners of the house. This was the insinuation leveled against us; for the slightest reason, they would tell us, "Sani is better than you..."
The actual root of this quarrel that led to us leaving the village today originated from Mama Tambaya, a woman who became a terror in that household. Almost everyone feared her, and not just in the house—I should say the entire village feared Mama Tambaya, which is why some called her by her birth name, Tambaya.
For she is the type of woman whose parents consult witch doctors or sorcerers, the kind who come to torment the community because they are involved with djinns or occult practices; that is why people nicknamed her "Tambai" in Hausa understanding.
This woman was the sole reason we left the village we lived in, where our parents gave birth to the three of us girls. She would sometimes mockingly label us as a useless birth, saying, "You are barely better than nothing to your parents."
We were just living an unhappy life in that wilderness, for it is a dense forest between Jibia and Niger, where the borders of the two countries meet—that is, Niger and Nigeria. Originally, our mother was from Niger, while our father was a Nigerian, because their way of life there is almost identical. Therefore, marital ties frequently occur between the residents of the area, since almost every Hausa family connection originates through marriage in this world.
The women of our household disliked our mother and us simply due to the extended family jealousy that most Hausa women exhibit between the wives of an older brother and a younger brother, or any relative. They harbor an immense jealousy toward one another, which is sometimes even more intense than the jealousy between co-wives sharing the same husband. Sometimes, this situation even escalates to casting spells on each other because they do not want one husband to achieve more prosperity than the other. This is what triggers this bitter jealousy between them, leading them to resent each other for no valid reason.