Duhu Da Haske Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She was sitting on the chair in her office as usual, spinning slowly in it. One look at her and you could tell she was deeply troubled. Once again, she was lost in the same thoughts she always had these days...
Will my life ever change? Will it ever go back to the way it was?
Even back then, it was not as if I was truly happy... but at least that time was better than this...
The sound of a knock on her office door brought her back to herself.
“Come in,”
she said, sounding as though she did not even want to speak.
The door opened and someone stepped in. Without stopping her spinning, and without even looking at the person, she said,
“What?”
The young woman who entered—one glance at her and you would know she was the secretary—opened her mouth at once, as though she had been waiting for her boss to speak first.
“Your Highness, you have a visitor.”
The woman she called Your Highness hissed, then slammed the desk in front of her so hard that the secretary flinched in fear. She looked up and removed the glasses she had been wearing. Her bright eyes were revealed. She fixed the girl standing before her with a stare, then suddenly looked away again when she noticed the way the girl was looking at her.
The secretary remained silent, watching her boss.
She was beautiful, very fair-skinned—so fair that her complexion had a soft yellow glow. She had a full face, a long nose that added elegance to her features, and a small mouth with naturally pink lips. If you did not know her, you would think she was wearing lipstick. But in truth, she did not even wear powder, let alone lipstick or eye makeup. Even so, she looked more beautiful and more put together than many women who wore full makeup.
The secretary finally looked away from her boss and turned as if to leave the office, when she heard her call out,
“Safna!”
Safna turned back to look at her boss, but saw that she was already gathering her things. It looked like she was about to leave.
If Safna had not known her nature, she might even have thought she had imagined being called.
Just when she had given up hope that her boss would say anything more, she heard her say,
“I can’t see anyone.”
She said it while walking out of the office.
Safna stood there staring after her with her mouth open, shaking her head.
Once she stepped out, she went straight to the parking area. Before she even reached her car, it had already been started for her, so by the time she arrived, one of the workers came forward and opened the car door for her.
She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again—a sign of gratitude—before getting into the car.
“It’s nothing, Madam. Safe journey,”
the young man said, understanding that her look was her way of thanking him for opening the car door, because everyone knew her character: she hardly spoke.
Without saying a word to him, she turned the key and drove out of the company.
Nasarawa J.R.A.
She honked in front of a huge house. To tell you how beautiful the house was would be a waste of time.
One of the security guards came and opened the gate for her.
She drove in and headed toward the parking area, where she parked. Then she stepped out holding her handbag.
The security guards quickly came forward, welcoming her back.
She only nodded at them, then turned to go into the house. One of the guards stretched out his hand as if to collect the bag from her, but she waved him off and said,
“How many times must I tell you, Yusuf?”
With that, she left the spot.
If they had not lived with her long enough, they would never have understood what she meant, because whenever she spoke, she rarely finished her sentences.
Her speech hardly ever went beyond one or two words. If ever her words exceeded two, then it meant she was speaking to her younger sibling.
When she entered the sitting room, she found a fair-skinned woman there. But one look at the woman’s complexion and you could tell it was not natural beauty—it was the shine of cosmetics—unlike her daughter, whose beauty was clearly natural at first glance.
Her mother looked about forty-five years old. She was seated on a single sofa chair, with her legs stretched out onto one of the small tables in the middle of the room. On another table were all kinds of snacks and things to chew.
Just from seeing the quantity, you would swear it was enough for ten people.
But in truth, she was the only one eating them, and even then she could not possibly finish them all.
She looked up at her daughter, who had just entered, and said,
“Afiya, why are you back early today?”
Instead of answering, Afiya only looked at the things spread out before her mother, shook her head, and walked past the sitting room toward her bedroom.
Just as she got to the door of her room, she heard her mother’s voice behind her say,
“Wallahi, be careful with me, Afiya! So I will speak to you and you will ignore me?”
“Sorry, Mama,”
Afiya said as she entered her room and slammed the door shut.
“Break the door if you want. It is your money—you will just replace it,”
said Hajiya Fatima, Afiya’s mother, who was more commonly known as Hajiya Batulu the Remarkable.
In Afiya’s Neighborhood
The gathering place was full as usual. One of the young men looked at the others and began to speak:
“Wallahi, if I could get Afiya to agree to marry me, wallahi I would be the happiest man. I swear, I love her.”
“What? Aliyu, of all people, you say you love a prostitute?”
one of the other young men said.
“So what is that to me?” Aliyu replied. “As long as she agrees to love me and marry me, that is enough for me. I’m sure even if they gave Afiya to a chief drunkard, he would run to accept her, wallahi.”
“Not to mention me, who is not just anybody. Just because she is a prostitute, people say no one should marry her. Let me ask you something, Faisal—if they ask you to bring proof, do you have any?”
“I don’t have it, Aliyu,” Faisal said, “but everybody knows she is a prostitute.”
“Then that settles it. As for me, I will not let people eat another man’s meat while I stand by,”
Aliyu said as he got to his feet.
“And where are you going now, Aliyu?”
the other young men asked together.