Fatalwar Deborah Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Shocking Homecoming
Exhausted, I returned home and was trying to climb upstairs when my children rushed at me and hugged me, repeatedly shouting, “Mummy! Mummy!” I picked up little Mohamed and said, “Yeee! Mama’s son, what did you eat that your mouth is this messy?”
Proudly, he replied, “Mama gave me fura, Inna gave me beans and rice.”
“He’s lying, Mummy. It was bean porridge that Dijo cooked for us, and she even kept your own,” Abdallah said, staring straight into my eyes. I quickly put Mohamed down, pulled Abdallah closer, and asked, “What happened to your eye?”
“We were in school when the jinn came out and then… then…” He suddenly went silent, staring at Abidah. I also turned to look at her. My heart skipped as I asked, “What happened?”
“They said she has a jinn. Our Madam said so,” Abdallah replied angrily.
“A jinn?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes, Mummy. If you had seen how Abidah was rising into the air like a bird,” Abdallah added. His words nearly tore apart my already wounded heart. All the tiredness I carried vanished. I sat on the floor asking for more details, but they all kept quiet, staring at me in fear. When they refused to speak, I picked up my phone and tried calling their father. After two rings he answered, saying, “Baby Uncle has—” I didn’t let him finish. “Abidah’s father, come home now. Something is wrong…” and I burst into tears.
“Subhanallah! What is happening?” he asked, the panic clear in his voice.
Through tears I said, “They’re saying Abidah has jinns. Abdallah just told me.”
“Please calm down. Wait for me, I’m on my way,” he said before hanging up.
I gathered the children together, crying, and they cried with me. This attracted Mama and Inna A’i, who came out and asked what was wrong; they too became anxious. About ten minutes later, Uncle Salem arrived wearing his soldier’s uniform. He went straight to Abidah, who was already restless, and carried her. He tried to calm her, then took water and recited Suratul Fatiha, Ayatul Kursiyyu, and Aamanar Rasul, then gave it to her to drink. Within two minutes, sweat began to pour out of her body—but not the normal kind. It was mixed with a greenish fluid, and the smell was unbearable.
Uncle Salem rubbed white chalk on the side of Abidah’s face; it instantly turned black. He looked at the chalk, then turned his gaze to me—a look filled with suspicion and a desire for answers.
“What is wrong with her? You’re quiet and saying nothing,” Mama asked.
Uncle Salem frowned deeply and said sadly, “Nafisa should answer that, not me.”
Everyone turned their attention to me. Confused, I said, “Me?”
“Tell us what you did to Abidah before this matter goes too far,” Mama said angrily this time.
Hot tears streamed down my face—not because I was guilty, but because of the pain of being accused, when they all knew that among my three children, my love for Abidah was special.
“Auta, what is happening? I don’t understand what they mean,” Inna A’i said gently. I rushed to her, sensing she was my only refuge. With a trembling voice I said, “Inna, ask them. Even I don’t know what they’re accusing me of. Wallahi, I did nothing wrong…” I hadn’t finished speaking when Uncle Salem grabbed me violently, lifted me up, and slapped my face twice so hard that my voice snapped and my vision went dark.
Before I fully regained myself, I heard him hurl dark words at me—words I had never imagined he could say, even in a dream.
“Release my daughter’s soul before I harm you in a way you’ll regret forever. No matter how I tried to cripple your powers, you still exposed yourself—and of all people, you chose your own child.”
My heavy eyes slowly began to open, but all I saw were blurred images. Then Mama added her own words, “Didn’t you always know she was a witch, yet you agreed to marry her?”
“Witch?” I repeated weakly.
Accusation and Despair
“Witch? Am I the witch, or who?” I asked again, managing to open my eyes and focus on Uncle Salem’s face, twisted like a demon.
“Yes, you are a witch, just as he said,” Daddy’s voice echoed through the living room. We all turned to him as he walked in and sat down.
My tears flowed uncontrollably. Hearing my own father—the man who brought me into this world—believe such words made me wish death had taken me instead.
I crawled to Daddy and clutched his legs, shaking my head and crying, “Please, Daddy, don’t say that. My heart will shatter.”
He held my shoulders like a little child and said, “Nafisa, some people are born to be disasters and calamities to society, while others are born to eliminate such evils and cleanse witchcraft. I now know I made a big mistake by removing you from Victoria Falls. Only there could you live without challenges, because there are many like you there.”
“Like me how? Please, Daddy, don’t call me a witch. I am not one,” I cried bitterly.
“I’m sorry, Nafisa, but destiny cannot be changed. The pen of your fate has already dried. Now it’s time for you to face yourself,” he replied.
Slowly, I pulled away from him and stood up, stepping backward and shaking my head. I could never accept this horror. Like a madwoman, I rushed into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and without thinking, slit my arm at the main vein.
“I would rather die than answer to the name witch. I swear I will never accept it,” I said, trying to shut the kitchen door—but Uncle Salem had already reached me. He grabbed me harshly, dragged me out, stopped the bleeding, and applied medicine as he always did.
I cried and recited verses until exhaustion overtook me, and my eyes slowly closed into sleep.
Uncle Salem sighed deeply as he looked at Nafisa’s fallen form, realizing too late that he had acted rashly. Ashamed, he turned to his friend and in-law and said, “Let’s go inside.” They went upstairs and sat quietly in Uncle’s living room.
Daddy spoke first. “My friend, you remember that a ghost never serves or helps without conditions, right? Deborah appeared in my room again today and told me that you too knew she would come, since she had already joined the conflict.”
Uncle Salem sighed. “Then why involve Abidah?”
“Because Nafisa loves her the most among her children,” Daddy replied.
“So what is the solution now?” Uncle asked.
“It seems you made a mistake, or the cleansing of these spirits wasn’t completed,” Daddy said.
Uncle Salem reflected, then replied, “First, we must remove the witchcraft seal on Abidah, just as I’ve done for Nafisa since she was young. But what surprises me is how quickly it manifested in Abidah, when such powers usually appear at age thirteen and above.”
“We must just watch carefully,” Daddy said, standing up. Uncle escorted him downstairs, where Nafisa and Abidah were both asleep.
He watched them quietly, sensing something hovering over them like a witchcraft seal, yet unsure how to stop it. He poured the remaining blessed water on Abidah, and she suddenly screamed and woke up shouting, “I want to drink blood!”
The Awakening of Horror
“Blood! Blood! Give me blood to drink! I want blood! Mummy, give me blood!” Abidah’s voice pierced my ears. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at her state, instantly knowing she needed blood—and only my blood could satisfy her. I closed my eyes, remembering Madam Lee; she was the first person I had ever seen in such a condition.
“Mama, soak the herbs and bathe her. Prepare fever medicine and don’t forget to add Floris water,” I heard Uncle Salem say anxiously. I looked at them as he tried to calm Abidah, but she refused, rolling her eyes as they changed from white to fiery red.
Mama’s body trembled as she followed his instructions. But as she brought the bottle of medicine, Abidah changed her voice and warned, “I said blood, and you’re trying to give me medicine? Give me blood, or I’ll kill you one by one.”
“Abidah, please be patient. Let me bathe you, then I’ll give you the blood,” Mama pleaded, holding her dress. Abidah kicked her hard; Mama flew and crashed into a table, her head hitting it as blood gushed out. Abidah laughed wickedly and said, “When were you born that you think you can trick me? Be careful today—I’ve cracked your head. If you lie to me again, I’ll break your neck and feed your flesh to my birds.”
In rage, Uncle Salem plunged Abidah into water without removing her clothes. She screamed hysterically, calling, “Mummy! Mummy!” It became clear to all of them that the jinn had temporarily left her consciousness—it was Abidah herself who was feeling the pain, not the spirit.