Kudurar Allah Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Bauchi — Dutsen Tenshi Neighborhood
 
Bauchi, the Dutsen Tenshi neighborhood.
 
It’s a neighborhood of modest means whose people are generous at heart. It’s a lane without any rich houses — there are only four houses in the whole lane. My last house is the most ruined of them all.
 
An elderly, respectable man — certainly between forty-eight and fifty years old — tries to enter the house which has a creaking, floppy door. By every sign he is not in the best of health; he walks slowly. He carefully steps into the small, average-sized living room, cleaning his throat as if the floor beneath him does not exist, and then inhales deeply, smelling the earth.
 
He greets in a slightly hoarse voice, quickly entering a small room to listen to the faint crying. He squeezes himself into the room and calls her name: “Fatima Bintu, subhanallah!” In a hurry he drops the bag he was carrying, his face full of worry; he lifts his hand toward her.
 
She is a beautiful girl, gifted and inspired by Allah. Her face glows; she looks up at her father with eyes full of urgent light.
 
In a soft, pleasant voice she says: “Fafi, Fafi — where are you going? I’m scared, Fafi, please don’t go out. I’m very afraid you will die if you go out, Fafi, please I beg you don’t go. I will do whatever is right — please, my Fafi.” She finishes speaking while pressing her two hands together.
 
He exhales deeply, then, soothingly, replies:
 
“Oh Bintu, with me? Are you the one fit to go out? Have you forgotten you are a fragile woman? Bintu, know that there is nothing to fear except Allah. Don’t be anxious; no one can harm you except what Allah has decreed as your fate. Girl, I love you — I worry for your life, Bintu. My constant prayer is that Allah turn the eye of the wicked away from you and preserve you and your mother wherever she is.”
 
Having said that, he quickly wipes the tears filling his eyes. He hands her the bag he was carrying and says, “Come on, get up and soak the millet — I know you’re hungry.” He speaks with a smile on his face to comfort her. She smiles in return, which brings out the beauty of her teeth and the thin dimples and fullness of her lips. “Mashallah,” he says softly after seeing her smile.
 
Abuja — The Upscale House
 
The house is a large, luxurious home like those built from foreign designs imported from the US. When you step into the inner part of the house, it feels like paradise on earth.
 
She is writhing and sobbing with a wound of grief mixed with loud cries. There are about ten people around her, trying to calm and restrain her, but it is as if they are pushing her away, saying:
 
“Wooo Jixos, help me — bring my child back to me. I want to see him in my religion. Please bring back your senses, don’t kill me, at least once in a lifetime I didn’t forbid you from studying — I didn’t forbid you because you are a country person, I forbade you because I care for you. But please, bring back what will make my heart beat again. I cannot bear this.” Then she breaks into a new, wrenching sob.
 
An elderly man of about fifty years descends from upstairs, comes toward the people in the living room, and motions for them to leave; one by one they obey and go out.
 
He sits in one of the ornate chairs decorating the parlor. He looks at her intently, and that causes Bashiri to straighten and adjust her sitting position even though she has not stopped sobbing.
 
He stares at her for a few moments, then exhales and blows air from his mouth, saying:
 
“Abigel, are you behaving properly? Do you realize what you’ve done — stirring the crowd, trying to expose my secrets? Do you think your actions will change his mind? Have you forgotten who he is? Have you forgotten his nature?” He shakes his head in frustration and says, “Abigel, you have no sense — you forgot the nature of this wicked son of yours.” Then he gives a faint, satisfied smile and continues: “Anyone who provokes trouble knows it will bring tears—” He clasps his hands together and looks at her; tears still stream from her eyes.
 
“Have you forgotten that he is wicked? Have you forgotten the hardship he has caused in the hands of Jams? Have you forgotten the confusion he made you feel? Have you forgotten what he does to you whenever he comes on weekends? Abigel, you should not forget all of this, let alone that Fatash does not consider you a mother.”
 
Azabure looks at him, eyes full of tears, and says, “I beg you, stop saying that phrase that Fatash does not see me as a mother.” He looks at her and says:
 
“For the advice I’ll give now — know that whatever you do, it won’t be enough. Better change your approach; this time you must do what is appropriate.”
 
After saying this he stands and goes upstairs.
 
She also rises with a stiff feeling in her body and a fear that makes her heart pound hard; the darkness seems to overwhelm her eyes.
 
At precisely that time it’s Friday — the day when every true Muslim prepares to go to the mosque.
 
But at the same time, some wicked people from among the Muslims have joined with the enemies of Allah and are rebelling against Him. A voice rises with a terrible intensity...
 
THE DESIGN OF ALLAH
 
OF
 
Fatima y Adam
 
Free book.
 
page 2
 
The Dark Forest — Nightmares and Fatima’s Fear
 
In the name of Allah, the Most Merciful.
 
A forest of great darkness and tall trees — you hear nothing but the sound of a voice! That sound makes the forest tremble; the trees shake as if in the rainy wind. The voice does not come from anywhere noticeable except the house in the middle of this forest — that single dwelling.
 
Strangely, inside the house there are no decorations, only dreadful things. Whatever you look at there is something that will humiliate you and make it hard for you to breathe.
 
There are around twenty people at least. Each one wears a red wrapper and a calabash; they kneel on their knees, completely still, because they believe what they are doing will bring success to their lives.
 
Azikwi, the leader, who is the head of this group, sits on his throne. His face has lost any pleasantness; he has become a terrible being — neither human nor spirit — and even his throne, though made as a human seat, has hands that look human.
 
“Look, people,” he says in a booming voice. A thick smoke rises like incense.
 
Then he begins to speak in that voice — one that shows he is very angry.
 
“Is this what we did with you? Didn’t I tell you to kill him? Indeed, know that the time has already come; you have tried again and again!” He ends his words in a terrible tone that causes the house and the forest to shake violently.
 
A man facing Azikwi tries to wipe his face; the sweat pouring down him since the leader began speaking.
 
In great confusion and panic he pleads, “Leader, please help us find a solution, seek forgiveness for us, find us a way out — but truly we have killed him.”
 
Azikwi roars at him, “Is there any solution that will calm my mind? I did my best but I cannot see anything but deep darkness! Dodo Jack, I am angry because I have never encountered such a problem before.”
 
He continues, “Truly I am in chaos. This is not a small problem; we must do something about this enormous trouble.”
 
Silence falls; you can only hear the rustling of the forest trees, thrown into motion by the weight of the leader’s voice.
 
The man who spoke first, with utmost obedience, says, “Leader, forgive us, grant us pardon, find us a way to follow; tell us exactly what to do if it will bring us success.”
 
He closes his mouth. A powerful gust rises, swirling all around them like a whirlwind for nearly two minutes, then it vanishes.
 
Azikwi then bursts into a mad laughter that stirs the entire forest; birds and wild animals are alarmed and flee for their lives.
 
When his horrible laughter subsides, he says, “Dodo Jack, our spirit who wipes away our tears — we have never had trouble like this; give us a solution. We promise to give you anything you want from among us.”
 
Turning to his followers with a sly smile that makes his face look even worse, he continues, “We give thanks to Dodo Jack for bringing us a solution to the problem we are trying to solve. But there are greater conditions. We will give Dodo Jack the blood of infants, girls and young men; each of us will bring five of these persons. As for the remaining conditions, I will not tell you — Dodo will tell everyone what task each must do.”
 
They all rise together and murmur oaths, each holding his calabash in hand, promising to obey every instruction given.
 
In the middle of the night, their spirits return to their bodies. No one knows what will become of them; each lies down in readiness for what is to come...
 
Bauchi
 
Her trembling continues; she says “inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.” She is extremely frightened by the terrible dream she had — among all the dreams she has had, this is the worst. Panic, terror, and dread fill her heart. She presses her hand to her chest because she feels as if her heart will burst.
 
She rushes out of her small room even though the night is deep, yet that does not stop her from being afraid to go out.
 
She heads straight for Fafi’s room with her heart pounding hard from intense fear. She pushes through the loose, creaking door that was prepared for it.
 
She greets from below his blanket. In great haste she reaches where she sees him — he seems limp. With trembling and tears she shakes him and says, “Fafi, Fafi, get up — what happened to you? What did they do to you? Are you not well? By Allah, Fafi, get up — my God, I beg you, Fafi, don’t go bury me. Where will I go? Who will support my life? Destiny, do not take him from me this way. Don’t separate me from my half, my life will be ruined.”
 
She is completely confused, not in her right mind; she keeps repeating herself — being young, she seems to be no more than sixteen to seventeen years old.
 
She moves closer, crying with a heart-touching wail; her large eyes swell and go dim, her voice choked, and the sound of her crying is like nothing you’ve heard before.