Matar Damisa Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Old Woman’s Confession
An old woman sat beneath a tree, her back resting against the trunk as she gently stroked the hair of a young girl lying across her lap.
The girl could not have been more than twenty years old. She lay there as though asleep when she suddenly felt her mother’s body shaking with quiet sobs. Startled, she quickly sat up.
“Uma, are you alright? What happened?”
Through tears, the old woman replied,
“Ayush… I want you to help me seek forgiveness from Allah. I committed a terrible mistake in my life. I can feel it in my body—I am going to die. Ayush! I will die without seeking forgiveness from Junaid…”
She burst into painful, heartbreaking sobs.
“Uma, please stop crying. I don’t like seeing you like this. Who is this Junaid? And what did you do to him that makes you speak so harshly about yourself? If you don’t tell me what’s in your heart, how can I help you with prayers when I don’t even know your sin?”
With regret and trembling lips, Uma looked at her daughter.
“Ayush… I hate myself. If you hear my story, you will hate me too. I will tell you—but before that, I want you to forgive me.”
Confused, Ayush replied softly,
“Forgive you? Uma, you have never harmed me. Everything you have done for me was out of love. You could never hurt me. I forgive you in this world and the next.”
Uma smiled bitterly.
“My life has no value now. I am ready to die. But I pity you… when I die, I don’t know what will become of you. Ayush, I have no relatives, no one. People run away from me because I committed something terrible. My sin has affected you too—everyone hates us. Do you see that hut over there? That is where we have lived since you were a baby. You have asked me about your father, about our family, but I could never answer you… because I feared you would leave me. But now, I am ready to face every consequence.”
She took a deep breath.
“Ayush…”
“I’m listening, Uma,” Ayush replied softly, her pale face soaked with tears.
“I want to see you married, with children. You have a good heart. You are kind. I pray you never inherit even a particle of my character—or your father’s. Shame on our ways…”
She broke down again.
Ayush hugged her tightly. “Uma, if telling this story will only make you cry, then don’t tell it. I don’t want anything that will hurt you. I love you so much.”
Uma gently separated from her.
“No, Ayush. If I don’t empty my heart, I will never find peace. I will tell you who I truly am.”
Agatha – The Woman Before Bara’atu
“My name was Agatha. I was not a Muslim. I am originally from Ghana. My parents died in a car accident. Because they had no relationship with their extended families, I never even knew whether I had relatives. My father was a Christian, my mother was Muslim—but he influenced her to convert. That created division between both families.
With no one to care for me, I entered prostitution to survive.
In that life, Allah brought me to a wealthy Nigerian man who was in Ghana for business. He rescued me from that condition. He supported me, encouraged me toward Islam, and through him I accepted Islam. He changed my name to Bara’atu.
For nearly a year I stayed with him, yet nothing inappropriate ever happened between us. I tried everything to tempt him—but he refused. Meanwhile, I developed intense feelings for him. He took full responsibility for me, even giving me money for my expenses.
One day, while he was working on his accounts, I decided to confess my love and ask him to marry me.
He did not get angry—but he refused.
Do you know what he told me?”
Ayush shook her head in shock.
“He said he had a wife and a son in Nigeria. He did not want to marry again to avoid problems. Instead… he said he would take me to Nigeria to work as a housemaid for his wife.”
Ayush’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“When we arrived in Nigeria, he introduced me to his wife—Doctor Fateemah—a kind and peaceful woman. And his son… Junaid. He was just about ten years old then.
He told his wife everything about how we met, except that I loved him. I began working in their home and was paid a salary.”
Uma paused, smiling bitterly at the memory.
The Sin That Destroyed Everything
“At that time, I sought out a powerful sorcerer through a wicked woman I befriended. We traveled far into a dangerous forest to meet him.
When I told him about the wealthy man, he laughed wickedly and said he would grant my desire—but only if I gave him three things:
First: 100 billion.
Second: the blood of a male child for his own purpose.
Third: myself—meaning I must sleep with him.
I agreed to everything.
The hardest part was the money. But my friend told me she could give me the full amount—if I gave her something in return.
She was a lesbian.
I agreed without hesitation. ‘If I can give myself to a giant sorcerer, why not you?’ I said.
She was pleased and gave me the money. I took it to the sorcerer. I gave him my body. And… I gave him Alhaji’s son—Junaid.
But there was something I did not know.
The sorcerer desperately wanted a child, but his powerful jinn refused him unless he provided them the blood of a specific male child. Many children had been brought before, but their blood did not match what the spirits demanded.
Junaid’s blood was the perfect match.
The sorcerer was overjoyed.
But then… he fell in love with me.
He destroyed the spell he had prepared to make the Alhaji marry me. He told me:
‘I will not marry anyone. And he will not marry you. We do not marry.’”
Uma’s voice trembled.
“And that… Ayush… was the beginning of my destruction.”