Me Zanyi Da Ita Part Complete 2 Complete Hausa Novel

A Midnight Escape
 
“Who is that?” Jatau asked again sharply. Shatu quickly turned as if she was heading to the toilet and replied in a very low voice, “It’s me, I’m just stepping out for a moment.” He clicked his tongue and walked in, grumbling angrily, “Useless nonsense and stupidity. You’re just trying to scare me. In the middle of the night, I’ll deal with you like an evil spirit.”
Shatu said nothing. She followed behind him, glaring and making small clicking sounds with her tongue. “Aradu, may God let the day come when I deal with all of you,” he muttered as he entered.
 
The moment he disappeared inside, Shatu slipped into the toilet area, climbed over the small fence, and fled the house at full speed.
 
Despite being no more than twelve years old, Shatu was clever and sharp-minded. That was why she didn’t struggle much to find her way. She boarded a vehicle that took her into town, and from there she was put on a bus heading to Bauchi.
 
A Long Journey to an Unknown Home
 
After hours of travel, they arrived in Bauchi. From there, she asked about a vehicle going to Katagum. The motor park boys put her on a vehicle to Tafawa Balewa, where she would then get one to Katagum.
 
When she finally arrived, it wasn’t hard to locate the house, as it was a well-known family house. Wherever she passed, people stared at her. She looked like those children known as bararoji—dirty all over, her body dusty and unkempt. She didn’t bother covering her hair and walked about shamelessly in worn slippers, her feet giving off a foul smell.
 
It was a large house, a royal-style building with many rooms in every section. This was the original palace house of the town, beautifully renovated and freshly painted—one could tell wealth and comfort surrounded the family. There was a wide compound with big trees everywhere. Not knowing where to go, Shatu approached some children playing football in the yard. Seeing her, they screamed and ran away, convinced she was an aljannah (a spirit). Shatu clicked her tongue and moved aside, sat down with her bundle of belongings.
 
The children’s panic drew the attention of the household. Everyone came out in confusion as the children shouted, “Aljannah! Aljannah!” Shatu shook her head, turned her face away, and thought to herself, You’ll pay for this. I’ll deal with your parents first here before I reveal myself. Quickly, she messed up her hair even more, stood up wide-eyed, swung one hand dramatically, and headed toward the section where the children had run.
 
The Truth Revealed
 
Suddenly, she appeared in the middle of the compound. Instantly, the parents of the children ran for their lives, leaving behind only an old woman, Dada, who was trembling and chanting prayers, begging for forgiveness. Shatu frowned and moved toward her. Before anyone could react, Dada soiled herself in fear. Seeing her about to collapse, Shatu burst into laughter.
 
“Hey old woman, stop it. Don’t faint because of me. I’m not an aljannah like you think. I’m human—Maryama’s daughter, the child of your son Lamido.”
 
Dada stared at her wide-eyed and said, “Swear by Allah.”
Shatu scoffed. “Nonsense. I’m not an aljannah—can’t you see the dust on my feet?”
 
Only then did Dada breathe deeply and slump against the wall to sit. Shatu looked at the mess with disgust, blocking her nose. Realizing what had happened, Dada quickly recited prayers and crawled to the toilet, while Shatu laughed uncontrollably.
 
After cleaning herself up, Dada returned, settled Shatu, and called the women of the house. “All of you come and listen. This girl claims to be Maryama’s daughter—Maryama whom Lamido divorced long ago. And now her daughter, who looks like a spirit, has appeared.”
 
Shatu shook her head gently and muttered, “You’ll soon hear the full story.”
 
Everyone came out in shock, staring at Shatu. Was this really Lamido’s blood? A girl like a wild Fulani child? And Maryama—what pain drove her to choose a life in the wild over comfort and dignity? One of the women spoke aloud. Shatu shot her a sharp look and replied, “That was Allah’s destiny for her. And let no one insult my mother again. She’s no longer alive—by God, I’ll lose my temper.”
 
They all gasped. Dada began to cry. “So you’re saying Maryama is dead? Innalillahi. What will Lamido and the Imam say? They speak of Maryama every day.”
 
She cried bitterly, then wiped her tears and stared at Shatu sternly. “What proof do you have that you’re truly our blood, Maryama’s daughter?”
 
Shatu gave her a cold look. “By Allah, I have no proof to give you until I fill my stomach. You people don’t know hunger—you don’t know the suffering I endured before getting here. No one even offered me water.”
 
Dada nodded. “You’re right. Harira, bring her food. Furera, go and call Lamido’s wife and tell her to inform Lamido and the Imam to come by the next flight from Abuja. God’s decree has manifested.”
 
When the food arrived, Shatu ate greedily, savoring every bite. The taste overwhelmed her—there was juicy meat, something she hadn’t eaten since last year’s Eid al-Adha, if she remembered correctly. She finished eating, drank zobo, and finally smiled in satisfaction.
 
Then she looked at Dada and said, “Whether you believe me or not, I am Maryama’s daughter. Here are the photos she gave me before she died.” She pulled out the pictures from the pouch tied to her body. Those who knew Maryama—and even those who only knew her from pictures—were stunned.
 
Dada shook her head. “Without doubt… Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un. So Maryama truly left us.”
 
She burst into tears again, then looked at Shatu and wiped her nose. “By Allah’s power, so your father was a bararo?”
 
Shatu widened her eyes. “What disaster! Who are you calling a bararo?” she snapped, biting her finger in anger.