Idan Rana Ta Fito Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

When the Sun Rises – Part 3
 
It was close to sunset when I entered the house. Baba asked,
“Jidda, where are you coming from?”
“Baba,” I replied, “Mom sent me to collect her thrift contribution money.”
“Alright then, when you’re done, come over,” he said.
 
I went in, gave her the money, performed ablution, and prayed. Then I sat waiting to be served my food. Though they were all preparing theirs, I didn’t remind them about mine.
 
Baba Gaje looked at me and asked harshly,
“What’s taking you so long to eat, huh?”
I answered, “It’s my turn to eat.”
She raised her voice, “Useless girl! Lazy wretch!”
 
At that moment, Hinduwa came and took my portion instead. I stayed quiet, watching her eat calmly. Then Hinduwa said mockingly,
“Stop staring at us, unless you want me to choke!”
Baba Gaje hissed, “She’s cursed, that one. Look at her — evil child, carrying something strange in her belly.”
 
I went quietly into the room and sat down. I was terribly hungry — I hadn’t eaten since morning. Hunger had become my daily companion. I rested my head on my knees.
 
A few moments later, Baba came to the doorway.
“Gaje, bring me my food,” he said.
 
To my surprise, she replied, “Hinduwa already ate it.”
I looked up in disbelief. Baba turned around without saying another word — he was used to such behavior, though it was always meant for him to get served first.
 
I stood up to go out.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Baba Gaje barked.
“I want to fetch Baba some drinking water,” I said quietly.
“You’d better drink water and go to bed!” she snapped.
 
Ignoring her, I entered Baba’s room. He was sitting with his small lantern burning dimly. I greeted him, picked up his cup, and said,
“Baba, let me fetch you some water.”
He nodded, “Alright.”
 
When I returned and placed the water before him, he asked,
“Have you eaten?”
“No, Baba,” I replied softly, “Mine and yours — Hinduwa finished them both.”
He sighed deeply, shaking his head in pity.
 
“Alright then,” he said. “Go and buy some sugarcane and cassava. If we’re lucky, that man with the roasted meat from Garko will pass by, and we’ll get some to eat.”
I looked at him carefully.
“Baba, do you even have money?”
He smiled a little, “Just go and come back.”
 
I went to the village square, but there was no meat seller — only a fish vendor. So I bought fish, sugarcane, and cassava and returned home. Baba had gone for prayers.
 
I stayed seated outside because if I entered, Baba Gaje wouldn’t let me out again. But still, she eventually came out shouting,
“You, Kuluwa! Where have you been?”
 
I quickly stepped out of Baba’s shop so she wouldn’t see what I bought.
“Baba sent me to wait for him,” I said.
She clicked her tongue and hissed,
“When he returns, go make the bed for Hinduwa. After that, go look after your husband if you even have one!”
 
When Baba came back, I gave him what I bought.
“Sit,” he said, “let’s eat. But I won’t eat until you do first.”
 
As we ate, he looked at me seriously and said,
“Jidda, I want to tell you something. Keep it to yourself — don’t let anyone hear.”
I nodded. “Okay, Baba. What is it?”
“They’ve brought your bride price, and I’ve seen it — along with the marriage gifts.”
 
I froze, staring at him like it was a dream.
“Are you serious, Baba?”
He chuckled, “Have I ever joked about something like this?”
“No, Baba,” I whispered.
 
Inside me, I wondered who it could be. Was it an old man? A blind man? A cripple? Even if so — I thanked Allah — at least I would have peace.
 
He interrupted my thoughts.
“You didn’t even ask who it is.”
“Whoever it is, Baba,” I said softly, “I know he did it for the sake of Allah. May Allah bless him.”
Baba smiled. “That’s the spirit. May Allah bless you too. I’ll keep the bride price with the village head until your wedding day so we can buy your furniture in time.”
 
When the Sun Rises – Part 4
 
I smiled quietly, though deep down I wished I knew who he was. Baba seemed to sense it and said,
“Even though I won’t tell you who your husband is yet, I must tell you this — no woman in this whole village or the neighboring ones has ever received a bride price as large as yours. Even in town, it’s rare!”
 
He held my hand.
“Jidda, your bride price — I swear by Allah — I’ve never even seen such money before, let alone held it. It’s ₦100,000 in total.”
 
My eyes widened as I gripped his hand tightly.
“One hundred thousand, Baba?”
He nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes, Jidda — thirty thousand for the dowry, twenty as a gift, and fifty as wedding items.”
 
Tears filled my eyes. He continued,
“Keep this a secret between us. Even my siblings won’t know. I’ll just tell your mother’s family, and even them, I’ll warn them to stay quiet.”
 
Suddenly, Baba Gaje pushed the curtain aside.
“Hinde’s waiting for you to spread her mat, and here you are gossiping about me again?” she barked.
 
I quickly stood up, thanking Allah she hadn’t heard our discussion. She opened the food she brought, looked at Baba, and muttered,
“Let Allah judge you! Eating from our sweat!”
 
Then she threw a lump of cassava at my head and hissed,
“Shameless girl! Sitting in your room eating fish and sugarcane with him!”
 
She shoved me to the floor, but for once, I didn’t feel the pain — because for the first time in my life, I was certain my freedom was near.
 
That night, I didn’t sleep. I lay there smiling, wondering if all of this was a dream. I thought of my mystery groom.
My heart told me only one thing — whoever he was, he must be wealthy.
 
If he were an old man, at least I’d find rest.
I was proud of myself — among all the girls in our village, none could compare. I was the most talked about, and now, the one with the highest bride price.
 
Truly, patience brings success.