Fahimah Complete Hausa Novel

Waiting in the Heart of Yankaba
 
It was 3:00 PM on a Tuesday in Yankaba, a neighborhood in Kano. Hajiya Safiyyah-Basudaniyyah—known by everyone as such—sat solemnly in the center of her tastefully furnished parlor. A prayer bead from Madinah ran through her fingers as her eyes repeatedly darted to the grand wall clock facing east-southeast.
 
The parlor was nothing short of regal: themed in creamy white with streaks of orange—a rare, elegant palette. Everything screamed wealth, stability, and taste.
 
But despite the comfort, Hajiya’s face showed clear worry. Since praying Zuhr, she hadn’t moved. Something was off.
 
Where was Fahimah?
 
She was supposed to return from school by 1:30 PM. Now it was past 3.
 
The Ritual of Tea and Worry
 
Her maid, Talatu, entered quietly with a traditional Sudanese tea set—another ritual of luxury and comfort. She placed the ornate teapot and small cups beside Hajiya, then knelt politely.
 
“Hajiya, is everything alright? I’ve been watching the road for her since, but still nothing. Did she say she was stopping somewhere today?”
 
Hajiya shook her head and closed her prayer bead. “That’s exactly what’s bothering me. She said 1:30 PM. Let me call her.”
 
She picked up her phone and dialed Fahimah’s number. No answer.
 
Very unlike her.
 
The Son Returns
 
Just then, he entered.
 
Uwais Abdulkarim Shagari.
 
Tall, striking, sharply dressed in a white “London King” shadda and matching Zanna cap. His cologne—Maison Francis—announced him before he even said a word.
 
His build was lean but broad-chested. His facial features—sloped nose, thick black curls—betrayed his mixed heritage, most likely a light-skinned Sudanese. He looked noble, almost royal.
 
“Ammi, I’m off to the office,” he said with polite haste, not even glancing at the steaming food set for him.
 
“Uwais!”
 
He froze mid-step but didn’t turn around.
 
“Fahimah hasn’t returned from school.”
 
His face darkened instantly. He turned to face her with barely concealed irritation.
 
“For Allah’s sake, Ammi, how is that my business? Is she a child? Doesn’t she know her way home?”
 
Hajiya caught the flash of disdain in his eyes—undeniable hatred. Yet she had no choice but to tell him. Their society had changed. Kidnappings were rampant. And there was no other male in the house but him.
 
“Whatever you’re doing, drop it and go find her. Or shall I go myself?”
 
He stormed out without another word.
 
The Silent Rage of Uwais
 
The way he drove left no doubt—he was angry. Very angry.
 
He hated when Ammi mixed his life with Fahimah’s. She refused to understand that he couldn’t stand the girl—not out of a recent grudge but a long-brewing resentment since childhood. Her very existence, her origins—everything about her was a problem for him.
 
Still, Ammi loved Fahimah almost as much as she loved him. Maybe more.
 
And that made him hate her more.
 
Reunion at Yan Dutse College
 
He pulled into the compound of Yan Dutse College. As the gatekeeper opened the school gates, he spotted her immediately—laughing and chatting with her friend, Majida. Carefree, as if her absence hadn't sent his mother into a panic.
 
Her dark skin glowed under the sun. She was striking—not because of what she wore, but how she carried herself. Her eyes sparkled. Her perfectly arched brows framed a confident face. Even her teeth, white and aligned, gave her a cinematic smile.
 
Uwais sighed in disgust and honked sharply.
 
Fahimah looked up, startled. The last person she expected at school—Uwais.
 
She muttered a rushed goodbye and ran toward the car, legs slightly trembling.
 
The Silent Ride and a Cold Detour
 
He didn’t say a word. She knew this cold version of him. His face never softened where she was concerned.
 
He didn’t take the road home, but instead drove toward Bank Road.
 
She understood—his office.
 
As they parked at a GTBank branch, he exited without a word, carrying his laptop and phones. She stayed in the car, confused.
 
No explanation.
 
Just silence.
 
Office Calm vs. Car Silence
 
Inside the bank, staff greeted him warmly. They all knew his aloofness, his charm, his scent. He waved casually, headed straight to his glass-walled office.
 
Just as he pulled his chair, his phone rang. It was Ammi.
 
“We're together,” he said flatly before dropping the phone on his desk.
 
He opened his laptop and immersed himself in work—emails, documents, transactions. He’d completely forgotten the human being left in his car.
 
Meanwhile in the Car...
 
Fahimah, bored and slowly weakening, glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. She eventually rested her head on the dashboard.
 
No food since breakfast. Ammi had forced her to eat something before school, but that was hours ago.
 
The heat made her sleepy. She opened the windows a bit and gave in to the hunger-induced slumber.
 
She knew this wasn’t Uwais’s idea—he never voluntarily came for her. Ammi had pressured him.
 
Mr. Edward, their Biology teacher, had asked them to stay for extra practicals ahead of final exams. That’s what delayed her. But try explaining that to Uwais.
 
The Drive Home—and Inner Reflections
 
By 5 PM, Uwais was done. He returned to the car, threw his laptop bag in the backseat, and drove off.
 
The motion startled Fahimah from her sleep.
 
She looked at him sideways—his calm, his confidence, his silence.
 
“His face is like that of a righteous man, but his heart is like Pharaoh’s.”
 
She thought to herself.
 
In her 18 years of living under the same roof, he had never been kind to her. Not once. No smile. No affection. Nothing.
 
She didn’t even know what she’d done.
 
Though Ammi had only two children—him and her—Uwais treated her like a stranger. Like an enemy.
 
She once believed he hated her because she wasn’t his real sister. That’s what Ammi had eventually explained.
 
But that didn’t help.
 
What Fahimah Felt...
 
Still, strangely, he fascinated her.
 
No one captivated her like Uwais Abdulkarim Shagari.
 
In her eyes, he was everything—strength, beauty, mystery. Even cruelty.
 
She loved him.
 
Deeply.
 
But she knew he would never love her back.
 
Maybe not because she didn’t deserve it…
 
But because she wasn’t born from the same womb.