Furar Danko Part1 Compete Hausa Novel

Arrival at Aminu Kano International Airport
 
At 3:25, the flight that had come from the Federal Capital, Abuja, touched down at Aminu Kano International Airport in Kanon Dabo. Calmly, every passenger began to disembark. In the VVIP section a striking young woman, exquisitely dressed and catching everyone’s eye, rose slowly. She wore a slightly displeased expression as if bothered by the smell of people around her. Her outfit — a stylish top and tight white jeans rolled up from thigh to knee — revealed the color of her skin where the fabric hugged her. A thin pink veil that matched her outfit sat perfectly on her head, framing her face. Her designer bag, studded with stones in pink and blue, signaled wealth. Her high-heeled shoes were sharply pointed and emphasized her feet; the cropped trousers left her slender ankle and a slim anklet studded with pink and blue stones exposed.
 
She wore blue eyeglasses that added to her cool, composed look. Her face showed no smile; there was little or no makeup beyond a faint shimmering pink lipstick. At a glance you might think she didn’t know what a smile was, and you might guess she was from the southern part of the country rather than the Hausa-dominated north where Islam is stronger — especially Kano.
She drew a small, elegant sniff and rose, slipping her phone into her pocket while placing pink headphones over her ears. She opened a packet of chewing gum and popped one into her mouth, casting a slight glare at the young man who had been staring at her — his stare had annoyed her since he’d tried to pull the curtain that separated them. She slung her bag over one shoulder, picked up her Apple laptop and drew another tiny breath when she saw he had also stood up. She walked away with the quiet, proud step of a woman who doesn’t speak much.
 
Her heels made a seductive click as she walked; the steady sway of her bag drew many eyes. Many people stared; some fell silent, others whispered jealously, and several young men stood rooted, struck by her beauty. She was unmistakably dark-skinned African, but her manner and attitude were not typical of the local women. There was a unique fragrance about her; the way she chewed her gum and pursed her lips drew attention. Any discerning man who saw her once would not easily forget her.
 
This was Mawaddat Isma'il Ibrahim JiÆ™amshi — popularly called Lulu Kamshi — a beautiful woman of about twenty-four. She’s the third child in her family. Her father is the well-known Engineer Isma'il I. JiÆ™amshi, a major businessman and owner of JiÆ™amshi Motors. Mawaddat is reserved and proud; her image has been featured in newspapers. She’s indulgent, pampered, and something of a family favorite — especially with her father, Engineer Isma'il Ibrahim JiÆ™amshi, and her uncle Yousuf Ibrahim JiÆ™amshi. The comfort she enjoyed while growing up in Europe made her rather spoiled and shamelessly playful. Whenever she goes out, she does so brazenly unless Uncle Yusuf scolds her; otherwise she behaves as she pleases.
 
Mawaddat has a solid Western-style education — she currently practices as a private lawyer — though her studies nearly didn’t finish because of her temperament; most of her formal education was abroad except for nursery school in Nigeria. On religious knowledge she’s lacking; for example, she isn’t the person to lead a recitation. She hates poverty and has no taste for the poor. No matter your wealth or lineage, you won’t easily win Lulu’s attention. Even Europeans who get close to her often get turned away; she commands attention and expects lavish gifts. She enjoys clubbing and dancing and hides a private secret that nobody in the family fully knows; she carries it out carefully and discreetly, which is why no one has caught her easily — even a close incident with Uncle Yousuf nearly got out.
 
That is Mawaddat Isma'il Jiƙamshi (Lulu Kamshi), briefly.
 
The Men on the Plane and the Introductions
 
The young man who had been staring at her on the plane was eager to have his way with her, despite her clear resistance. To him, this was the last chance, and her attempt to avoid him annoyed him. He raised his voice:
 
“K! Queen of women. Stop making everyone fall in love with you!!”
 
His loud voice and swagger drew many people’s attention; heads turned to look. Yet Lulu did not show any reaction — she simply kept walking toward the vehicle pickup area. The men around him began to sneer and click their tongues at her. When he continued to follow her, pleading and clasping his hands in a gesture of begging, she only spat and kept walking. He tried again more politely, “Baby, at least listen to me. Address or phone number, please.”
 
Through gritted teeth she replied, “In what capacity?” Hearing Hausa come from his mouth surprised her; he smiled and said, “Your neighbor on the plane, beauty. My name is MM Atik Kumo. My father is M. Atik Kumo — everyone who’s lived in Nigeria and the rest of Africa knows him…”
 
She cut him off sharply: “Get away with that old, tired line! Give me a route or get out of my face — you and your nonsense.” She spoke angrily and walked past him. Everyone around watched stunned; they all knew the name MM Atik Kumo, yet this bold young woman had just given him that sharp rejection. He, too, showed no sign of taking action.
 
“Look — Uncle Smart — here’s Aunty Lulu,” called a handsome young boy perched on top of a black jeep, pointing at her. He called to the man nicknamed Uncle Smart standing nearby, who was looking down at his Nokia keypad and lifting his head slowly as though in pain...