Galadima Family Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Return Home
 
She walked gracefully, calm and composed. A sky-blue long hijab (jalbab) covered her from head to toe, and her face was adorned with a modest pair of glasses that highlighted her fair complexion. A matching sky-blue facemask covered her face, and her golden half-covered shoes shimmered beneath her steps. A golden handbag hung elegantly on her shoulder.
 
Even though she didn’t look more than eighteen, her maturity and calmness made her appear older and more reserved.
 
As she turned into her street, a wave of irritation washed over her — not for any major reason, but simply because of the idle young men she mockingly called “the trouser squatters” (the layabouts who loitered on their street corners). Her expression tightened beneath her mask, and she quickened her steps, intent on passing without drawing their attention.
 
“Zuhra, welcome back! Hope you returned well?” a familiar voice greeted.
She turned sharply, her face softening in respect. “Good afternoon, Baba Mai Icce. How are you?” she replied with a warm smile and a polite bow.
 
The elderly man smiled and blessed her, his words filling her with quiet happiness. Still smiling, she approached their house — a well-built, beautiful home with a tidy compound. She stretched her hand to knock, but before she could, the gate opened slightly from inside.
 
When she raised her eyes — four eyes met. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly lowered her gaze. He, however, just glanced briefly at her and walked past without a word. His driver followed behind, dragging a trolley bag toward a car parked by their gate.
 
Before she could turn back, she heard the voices of the children rushing out.
“Please, Yah Sauban, take me with you! I want to go to Bodejo’s palace!” cried little Maimoon, full of energy.
 
Another child added, “No, Yah Sauban, don’t go with her — take me instead! I’ve never been to the palace before!”
 
Yah Sauban — tall, calm, and soft-spoken — smiled, placed his hand on one boy’s head, and said gently, “Don’t worry, my friend. I won’t be gone long. Once I return, I’ll take you both, okay?”
 
The children cheered excitedly. Zuhra, frozen in place, still hadn’t moved an inch. She sighed deeply and finally entered the house, heading straight for Mommy’s apartment.
 
She knocked softly and entered, greeting in her gentle voice — so low that one could barely hear unless paying attention. Mommy, already dressed to go out, smiled warmly. “My Zuhra, welcome!”
 
Zuhra smiled weakly. “Mommy, I’m tired… honestly, I’m tired of that JAMB class.”
 
Mommy chuckled and said, “Just go wash up and eat, dear. I know you’re only tired, nothing else.” With that, she stepped out of the sitting room.
 
Zuhra sighed again and climbed the stairs. Inside Mommy’s room, she removed her hijab — and truly, Masha Allah, her beauty wasn’t only in her face but in her entire form. She undressed carefully until only her white undergarments remained, recited a prayer, and entered the bathroom.
 
After a refreshing bath, she dressed quickly in a purple English outfit — a fitted top and trousers that complemented her shape perfectly. She didn’t bother applying lotion, just combed her fine hair, wore the cap, slipped into her slippers, grabbed her iPhone 13 Pro Max, and went downstairs.
 
Seeing the warmers neatly arranged on the dining table, she walked past toward another apartment. But upon entering the sitting room, her steps slowed — for she saw her seated there.
 
“Assalamu alaikum,” she greeted softly, almost trembling. The woman, in her early fifties, with glasses and a laptop on her lap, didn’t look up. She only replied coldly, “Yawwa, welcome back.”
 
“Yawwa…” Zuhra muttered quietly, surprised at the calm response. She turned and left for her own room upstairs.
 
Sitting on her bed, she whispered to herself, “Strange… Ummi answered my greeting today without anger or complaint. Why?” She was still thinking when the door opened — Nihal and Laila entered, smiling.
 
Evening Conversations
 
“Kai, Zuhra! You really stayed long at JAMB class today — what happened?” Nihal teased.
 
Laila added, “Since Yah Sauban came back with us, we’ve been waiting for you! Are you still sticking to your plan of going to Danfodio University? Come join us at ABU!”
 
Zuhra sighed. “Hmmm, you won’t understand. I’m not avoiding ABU because of anything else — it’s because of Ya Aseef. He lectures there, and honestly, I don’t want him bothering me. You know how he is — always overbearing. That’s why I prefer Danfodio. Besides, Ummi never