K
freeBOOK INFORMATION
AvailableDetails
- Category
- Love Stories
- Format
- DOC
- Access
- Free
- Reader
- Prepared
- Reading parts
- 46 chapters/parts
- Published
- Jul 15, 2025
- Updated
- Oct 23, 2026
BOOK IDENTITY
Author & publisher
- Author
- Halima Abdullahi
- Publisher
- Ashwar Media Hausa
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Description
The Trouble Begins
Ummi was running and singing her usual playful tunes, never walking, always moving with speed and energy. From a distance, she spotted Firdausi—just around her age. With a mischievous smirk, Ummi charged toward her.
"Firdausi! So you're the one trying to mess with me today, huh?"
Firdausi, startled, stammered, “No, Ummi, I didn’t say anything…”
Ummi grabbed her collar. “Don’t act smart with me. I heard when you called me a witch!”
“I didn’t!” Firdausi defended herself, scared.
Still, Ummi shoved her hard, causing Firdausi’s ground millet flour to scatter across the dirt. “You see? You’ll pay for this!” she shouted.
Ummi bolted home, dumped the peanut oil she was sent to buy, and rushed to the toilet. But it was too late—her father, Abba, was already inside. Panicking, Ummi turned and hid in Tsohuwa’s room under the bed, right where Tsohuwa kept the fura Alhaji Babba had sent her from the market.
Abba stepped out of the shower, furious. “UMMI! Come here now!”
Umma, cleaning up the spilled yaji (pepper powder), muttered in frustration, “Today, beat her till she passes out. I’m tired of her trouble.”
But Tsohuwa had heard everything. “Kill her if you want, but don’t leave her alive,” she said, storming in. “And you, Suwaiba! So you’ve been allowing her to insult me just because she bears my name?!”
“No, Tsohuwa,” Umma tried to explain. “She just lacks sense. She peeked at her brother while he was bathing and spilled my pepper.”
Abba, still raging, said, “She’s gotten worse since you started backing her. But not today!” He stormed toward Tsohuwa’s room.
At that moment, Firdausi's mother entered the compound, holding the ruined millet flour. “Look what your daughter did! She destroyed what took me all morning to grind.”
Tsohuwa snapped back, “Who told you it was Ummi? Maybe it was one of your own.”
Umma interjected, “She did go out though—I sent her to buy oil.”
“It must’ve been a provocation,” Tsohuwa concluded.
Abba changed and grabbed his belt, storming into the room. Ummi screamed, “I didn’t do anything!” but he lashed her once. She clutched the belt tightly and refused to let go.
Tsohuwa joined, hitting Abba on the back. “You want to kill her now? Someone come and stop him!”
Infuriated, Abba shoved Tsohuwa and used his shoe instead to finish the beating. Both Tsohuwa and Ummi were left crying.
Trouble Never Ends
Later, Tsohuwa discovered her fura spilled under the bed. “Who did this? You again, Ummi?”
Abba passed by, ignoring her completely. “You better buy me new fura,” Tsohuwa threatened. “I don’t care if it’s night—you better return it!”
Umma was also angry. “That girl will be the death of me!”
Ummi took a bath, dressed for school, and hoped she wouldn't be punished further.
“Take this tea to Abba, quickly!” Umma ordered.
She grumbled, “Hope it’s not his room again. I’ll get him back for yesterday’s beating!”
Without waiting for a response to her greeting, she barged into Abba’s room—just as he was getting dressed. Startled, he shouted, “How many times have I told you not to enter unless I reply?!”
She dropped the tray in shock. Hot tea splashed on his foot and the potatoes scattered.
Screaming, Abba ran out, “UMMA! SHE BURNED ME!”
Everyone came rushing, including Alhaji Babba. Tsohuwa walked in, muttering, “This girl doesn’t deserve my name.”
Abba shouted at her, “You’re the one always defending her!”
Later, she was dragged outside by Umma and punished again. Even Alhaji joined the beating this time. By evening, Abba summoned her for another round of lashes in his room.
A Torn Heart
Around 4:30 PM, Abba’s friend Ahmad stopped by. As they chatted at the door, Ummi ran past them. “Come here, you troublemaker!” Abba called. She insisted she did nothing wrong.
Just then, a boy followed, covered in mud. “It’s her! She threw dirt at me!”
Abba dragged her inside and forced her to clean the boy up. Tsohuwa kept yelling, “You kids too! Stop teasing her so she won’t retaliate.”
As the guests left, Ahmad asked seriously, “Abba… does this girl have jinn in her? She acts possessed.”
“No, she’s just full of nonsense,” Abba replied.
“Maybe you should take her for ruqya. Even Alhaji Karami thought so once.”
“If anyone marries her, he must be a brave man,” Ahmad laughed.
“He must be crazy!” Abba exclaimed. “Me, marry Ummi? I’d leave this town!”
Ahmad teased him more. “But you look alike.”
“Don’t say that,” Abba warned. “I hate her. I don’t like her one bit!”
They continued eating under the stars—Abba and Alhaji Babba, always dressed alike, always together like twins.
Losing It All
Ummi was everyone’s headache. Abba admired how his other children were focused and responsible. His frustration grew when he learned Bashir had failed his exams and Sahura, their mother, still insisted he shouldn’t do any handwork, only study.
“Mama was different,” Alhaji Babba said. “She encouraged Abba to learn tailoring—and now see him! That’s why I love Abba.”
Back in the house, Ummi was called again.
“Take Abba this tea and potatoes,” Umma ordered.
She sighed, “Again?”
“Who else eats his leftovers?”
She entered Abba’s room grumbling. Yet again, she was scolded for barging in. This time she dropped the tea on his foot, again.
As Abba screamed in pain, Ummi knew her punishment wasn’t over yet.
Ummi was running and singing her usual playful tunes, never walking, always moving with speed and energy. From a distance, she spotted Firdausi—just around her age. With a mischievous smirk, Ummi charged toward her.
"Firdausi! So you're the one trying to mess with me today, huh?"
Firdausi, startled, stammered, “No, Ummi, I didn’t say anything…”
Ummi grabbed her collar. “Don’t act smart with me. I heard when you called me a witch!”
“I didn’t!” Firdausi defended herself, scared.
Still, Ummi shoved her hard, causing Firdausi’s ground millet flour to scatter across the dirt. “You see? You’ll pay for this!” she shouted.
Ummi bolted home, dumped the peanut oil she was sent to buy, and rushed to the toilet. But it was too late—her father, Abba, was already inside. Panicking, Ummi turned and hid in Tsohuwa’s room under the bed, right where Tsohuwa kept the fura Alhaji Babba had sent her from the market.
Abba stepped out of the shower, furious. “UMMI! Come here now!”
Umma, cleaning up the spilled yaji (pepper powder), muttered in frustration, “Today, beat her till she passes out. I’m tired of her trouble.”
But Tsohuwa had heard everything. “Kill her if you want, but don’t leave her alive,” she said, storming in. “And you, Suwaiba! So you’ve been allowing her to insult me just because she bears my name?!”
“No, Tsohuwa,” Umma tried to explain. “She just lacks sense. She peeked at her brother while he was bathing and spilled my pepper.”
Abba, still raging, said, “She’s gotten worse since you started backing her. But not today!” He stormed toward Tsohuwa’s room.
At that moment, Firdausi's mother entered the compound, holding the ruined millet flour. “Look what your daughter did! She destroyed what took me all morning to grind.”
Tsohuwa snapped back, “Who told you it was Ummi? Maybe it was one of your own.”
Umma interjected, “She did go out though—I sent her to buy oil.”
“It must’ve been a provocation,” Tsohuwa concluded.
Abba changed and grabbed his belt, storming into the room. Ummi screamed, “I didn’t do anything!” but he lashed her once. She clutched the belt tightly and refused to let go.
Tsohuwa joined, hitting Abba on the back. “You want to kill her now? Someone come and stop him!”
Infuriated, Abba shoved Tsohuwa and used his shoe instead to finish the beating. Both Tsohuwa and Ummi were left crying.
Trouble Never Ends
Later, Tsohuwa discovered her fura spilled under the bed. “Who did this? You again, Ummi?”
Abba passed by, ignoring her completely. “You better buy me new fura,” Tsohuwa threatened. “I don’t care if it’s night—you better return it!”
Umma was also angry. “That girl will be the death of me!”
Ummi took a bath, dressed for school, and hoped she wouldn't be punished further.
“Take this tea to Abba, quickly!” Umma ordered.
She grumbled, “Hope it’s not his room again. I’ll get him back for yesterday’s beating!”
Without waiting for a response to her greeting, she barged into Abba’s room—just as he was getting dressed. Startled, he shouted, “How many times have I told you not to enter unless I reply?!”
She dropped the tray in shock. Hot tea splashed on his foot and the potatoes scattered.
Screaming, Abba ran out, “UMMA! SHE BURNED ME!”
Everyone came rushing, including Alhaji Babba. Tsohuwa walked in, muttering, “This girl doesn’t deserve my name.”
Abba shouted at her, “You’re the one always defending her!”
Later, she was dragged outside by Umma and punished again. Even Alhaji joined the beating this time. By evening, Abba summoned her for another round of lashes in his room.
A Torn Heart
Around 4:30 PM, Abba’s friend Ahmad stopped by. As they chatted at the door, Ummi ran past them. “Come here, you troublemaker!” Abba called. She insisted she did nothing wrong.
Just then, a boy followed, covered in mud. “It’s her! She threw dirt at me!”
Abba dragged her inside and forced her to clean the boy up. Tsohuwa kept yelling, “You kids too! Stop teasing her so she won’t retaliate.”
As the guests left, Ahmad asked seriously, “Abba… does this girl have jinn in her? She acts possessed.”
“No, she’s just full of nonsense,” Abba replied.
“Maybe you should take her for ruqya. Even Alhaji Karami thought so once.”
“If anyone marries her, he must be a brave man,” Ahmad laughed.
“He must be crazy!” Abba exclaimed. “Me, marry Ummi? I’d leave this town!”
Ahmad teased him more. “But you look alike.”
“Don’t say that,” Abba warned. “I hate her. I don’t like her one bit!”
They continued eating under the stars—Abba and Alhaji Babba, always dressed alike, always together like twins.
Losing It All
Ummi was everyone’s headache. Abba admired how his other children were focused and responsible. His frustration grew when he learned Bashir had failed his exams and Sahura, their mother, still insisted he shouldn’t do any handwork, only study.
“Mama was different,” Alhaji Babba said. “She encouraged Abba to learn tailoring—and now see him! That’s why I love Abba.”
Back in the house, Ummi was called again.
“Take Abba this tea and potatoes,” Umma ordered.
She sighed, “Again?”
“Who else eats his leftovers?”
She entered Abba’s room grumbling. Yet again, she was scolded for barging in. This time she dropped the tea on his foot, again.
As Abba screamed in pain, Ummi knew her punishment wasn’t over yet.