Kiran Rabo Part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

A Sister’s Private Plea
Didi quickly cut Omar off before he could speak.
“Omar!”
The sharpness in her voice made him stop and look at her. She turned to Hajja and said, “Hajja, please give me a chance to speak with him privately. I want to explain who Nayla really is — it seems he doesn’t understand who she is. Please, Daddy.”
Daddy glanced at his watch. “You have the chance, Aisha. But don’t take long. It’s already late.”
“In sha Allah,” she replied.
She walked over to Omar, took his hand, and said softly, “Come, let’s talk.”
“What is there to talk about? If there’s anything to say, it should be said here in front of everyone.”
“I know. Just come,” she insisted, pulling him along. He followed reluctantly.
They walked far enough from the living room because she knew his loud voice would easily carry. Omar pulled his hand away.
“Didi, let everything end tonight. Let it be settled once and for all.”
She looked at him, her heart sinking at the rage written all over his face. The veins on his forehead were visible from anger. She knew that when he was like this, he hardly listened — it would take a battle before he would calm down enough to hear her out.
“Omar…”
He didn’t look at her.
“Don’t you dare say the word divorce over Nayla,” she said firmly. “Not even in your heart. I don’t want you to think it, let alone say it aloud. Accept her as your wife — for the sake of Allah.”
He simply stared at her, speechless, studying her face as if wondering whether this was truly Didi standing before him.
“Please don’t reject this marriage. Even if her father himself calls you and tells you to divorce her, don’t. Accept it. Everything else can come later.”
“Didi… do you even hear yourself?”
“I do, Omar. I’m saying accept the marriage.”
He looked at her again, disbelief written across his face.
“I know you don’t drink alcohol, so I won’t say that’s what’s affecting your mind. I don’t know if marriage has taken a little of your sense away, but what you’re saying doesn’t sound like someone thinking clearly.”
“Say whatever you want,” she replied calmly. “Just do me this favor.”
Omar’s Refusal
“I won’t,” he said flatly. “I won’t accept a marriage I don’t want. I won’t accept a marriage to a girl I don’t know. I won’t accept a marriage I didn’t even know was taking place. What should I call that kind of marriage? A forced one? Or charity?”
His voice had grown louder and harsher. She lowered hers even more.
“Listen to me. All that can be addressed later. But right now, don’t say you won’t accept her. That girl is innocent. Only Allah knows why her father gave her to you. Maybe he was angry at the time. Maybe something deeply hurt him.”
Omar shot her a sharp look from head to toe.
“So because her father was angry, he left his town and came here — and I’m the one he chooses to dump his anger on? Is it because of my bad character? Or what exactly?”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “But please, don’t reject the marriage. Let’s go back.”
He stopped her again.
“I’m not accepting it. I never asked for marriage. Let them keep their daughter. I didn’t ask anyone to tie me to any girl.”
She turned back slowly. “Omar… it’s Didi talking to you. I’m begging you.”
“The only reason I’m standing here listening is because it’s you,” he said. “If it were anyone else, someone would have been carried out of that room by now — either unconscious or as a corpse. But this marriage? I won’t accept it.”
“Omar, I’m asking you as your elder sister, your only sister in this world. Don’t turn your back on me.”
He shook his head. “I won’t. I can do anything for you — anything except this. Change your mind.”
Seeing him unravel in anger, she grabbed his hand tightly and shook him, staring directly into his eyes.
“Omar… I’m like a mother to you. Won’t you do this for me?”
He stared back into her eyes.
“You said like a mother, Didi. You’re not my mother. And I won’t obey you in something I don’t want.”
The Ultimatum
Didi closed her eyes briefly, then opened them with renewed determination. Her voice hardened.
“Fine, Omar. Do whatever you want. But know this — I swear by Allah, if you utter the word divorce over Nayla… if you break that marriage… then there is no you and me anymore.”
He froze.
She pointed at him angrily.
“Yes. You heard me. If you reject this marriage, don’t ever think you have a sister named Aysha in your life. Go live your life, and let me live mine. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. You have no connection to me, and I have none to you.”
He stared at her in disbelief and pain.
“Didi… over a marriage I didn’t choose? Over a girl I don’t know? You’re saying there’ll be no you and me?”
“Yes, Omar. Not now, not ever. If you divorce her today or tomorrow — there is no you and me. If you want my happiness, if you want me to remain your sister, then don’t say anything in that living room. If they ask whether you accept her as your wife, you say yes. Otherwise, I swear — there is no us.”
Omar just looked at her, stunned.
If it were anyone else speaking to him this way, they would already be in a hospital bed — or worse. But this was Didi. His Didi. The one he loved more than anyone in the world.
And for the first time, Omar did not know what to do.