Masarautar Mu Part 4 Complete Hausa Novel

A Morning of Tension
 
Sa’adatu was lying on her prayer mat, still drowsy after her dawn prayer, when the fragrance of Prince Sageer drifted into her nose. He was kneeling before her, bowing as though she were royalty and he her subject. Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to meet his gaze—eyes filled with tenderness, love, and the guilt of a man submitting to his faults.
 
Her heart hardened. She closed her eyes again, refusing to speak. He had wronged her deeply, so much so that she resented the sight of him. In her heart, she suspected he had spent the night with Aisha–Sultana, for she had seen them leave together.
 
It was her first night in his house, the day every bride looks forward to with pride and expectation. Yet her husband had abandoned her, disappearing with his other wife, perhaps to a hotel, without even a word. She would not openly call it jealousy, but deep inside, she had felt a sharp, indescribable pain.
 
“I’m sorry, Princess,” Dr. Sageer whispered, his voice broken and frail. He had no defense, no excuse—only guilt. “I’m so sorry, Sa’adatouh. Please… come with me to bid farewell to Fulani Bilkisu and Maimartaba at the airport. When we return, you may punish me with fifteen lashes if you wish.”
 
Sa’adatu rose at once without a word, grabbed her hijab, and headed for the door. He remained kneeling where she left him. At the doorway, she paused and glanced back, her eyes filled with silent questions. He closed his weary eyes and said softly, “Sa’adatouh… not even a good morning kiss?”
 
She turned her back, her anger burning. A kiss? Had he not already had his fill from the foreign woman he carried off to the hotel while abandoning her? She wondered bitterly if this was the true face of “Uncle Yareema,” whom she had once thought righteous despite rumors of his escapades.
 
But as he stood and walked toward her, his arms suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her tightly into his chest. “I’m sorry, Sa’adah, very sorry. It wasn’t intentional. But wherever I am, whatever I do, you are always in my heart.”
 
Despite herself, Sa’adatu’s head fell against his chest. A strange calm filled her. From deep within her throat, she murmured, “Did I complain, Yaya Yareema? I knew from the beginning that I was sharing my husband. So I should expect this. Let us stop talking about it and just go to Fulani.”
 
Yet even as she spoke, tears she had held back since yesterday finally flowed, betraying the jealousy gnawing at her. Sageer kissed her passionately, igniting sensations that overwhelmed her. She was never used to his kisses, always feeling them deeply in her soul, leaving her disoriented. After a long moment, he pulled her by the hand, and they left together.
 
At the Airport
 
At Hilton Hotel, they found Fulani Bilkisu and Maimartaba prepared to leave, along with Fanna. Askirama himself was present, so Sa’adatu swallowed her pain, unable to complain about Sageer abandoning her on their wedding night.
 
At Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Sa’adatu wept bitterly as Fulani prepared to depart, clinging to her stepmother with Fanna joining in tears. It was a painful separation. Sageer held her hand gently, leading her back home after the plane departed.
 
Throughout, Maimartaba avoided speaking to Sageer, displeased with his conduct. Sa’adatu too withheld her smile, still deeply hurt.
 
Back at the palace, Sageer took it upon himself to unpack her luggage, selecting seven outfits for her. Holding her shoulders, he explained, “This house will be refurbished before you settle here. Everything inside will be replaced with what Maimartaba has gifted you, so you can design it as you wish.”
 
But Sa’adatu gave no reply. She knew he was only trying to wash away his guilt. Soon after, he prepared his own luggage, wheeling a trolley into her room. Dressed in a white brocade that gleamed with freshness, he stood before her and asked quietly, “Sa’adatouh, shall we go?”
 
Her heart longed for Fulani, Fanna, and Zarah. Tears threatened her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. School resumes the day after tomorrow.”
 
Sageer’s eyes darkened. “Even if classes resume tomorrow, you will not return. You must understand, your life is no longer your own. If you resist, I can cancel your studies completely.”
 
Her tears finally broke free. In anger, she grabbed only her handbag. He carried her suitcase, and they left together.
 
The Journey to Jos
 
Inside his Mercedes 4Matic, silence reigned. Sageer drove calmly but with intensity, while Sa’adatu sat stiffly beside him. She noticed the road stretching out of Abuja, realizing with shock that they were leaving the city. Still, she said nothing, thinking bitterly that even if he were taking her to be sold, she would have no say—after all, Fulani and Maimartaba had placed her in this situation.
 
By early afternoon, they reached Jos, where he stopped at a roadside traveler’s mosque. Sa’adatu eagerly rushed to the restroom before they both prayed shortened prayers.
 
Back on the road, he asked gently, “What do you want to eat?” She ignored him. Irritated, he sighed and kept driving. Near the outskirts, he bought roasted meat and chilled Swan water. He set the food by her side. The smell awakened her hunger, and despite her anger, she began eating with prideful grace.
 
Sageer watched her with soft eyes, charmed by everything about her. Then his phone rang. The caller ID read Yaa Gumsu. His heart dropped.
 
With fear, he answered respectfully. She did not even return his greeting. Instead, she demanded, “Did you really take that girl to Abuja?”
 
He fell silent.
 
Her voice rose in anger. “Three months I gave you to marry Sarkin Bauchi’s daughter, Hajjaju. Three months! If you do not, return her untouched. If not, Allah is my witness—you are no son of mine. I will hand you to Bilkisu and her daughter.” She hung up.
 
In shock, Sageer slammed the brakes. The car screeched, narrowly missing the vehicle ahead. Both he and Sa’adatu were thrown forward, saved only by their seatbelts. Pulling to the roadside, he switched the car’s glass to tinted mode. Without warning, he pulled Sa’adatu into his arms, holding her tightly. Whispering in her ear, he pleaded, “No matter what happens, Sa’adatouh, don’t ever leave me.”
 
Her heart pounded against his chest. His voice, his touch, everything about him overwhelmed her senses. She could not reply, caught in the storm of emotions he stirred. After a while, she gently pulled away, regaining her composure, and he resumed driving.
 
Exhaustion claimed her. She slept until they reached Bauchi late at night. To her surprise, Sageer did not stop in the city but pressed on, his face clouded with heavy thoughts.
 
Arrival at Yankari
 
Eventually, the road signs revealed their destination—Yankari Game Reserve.
 
Known as Nigeria’s foremost tourist attraction and the “home of wildlife,” Yankari was famed for its elephants, lions, and exotic scenery. Inside Wikki Camp, there was the luxurious Marshall Suites, where Sageer booked a VIP room for them.
 
The dazzling lights erased the night’s darkness, bathing the reserve in brilliance. The beauty of the place seized Sa’adatu’s attention. She forgot her anger, gazing in wonder. Unconsciously, she placed her hand on Sageer’s, resting on the gearshift.
 
“Uncle—” she caught herself and quickly corrected, “Prince, are we staying here? For how many nights? The place is quite attractive… and I like it.”
 
For the first time since their painful beginning, her words carried a trace of warmth.