Munafukin Miji Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Munafukin Miji Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel
When Love Turns Bitter
 
In the quiet of midnight, Ridayya lay on the cold, bare floor of her room, her body drenched in sweat and pain. Her hands clutched at her swollen belly—once a symbol of hope, now a source of unbearable agony. A bottle of bitter herbs—fiya-fiya—lay discarded nearby. She had swallowed it all, desperate to end the life growing within her. Now, silence.
 
Her breathing was shallow. Her lips trembled as foamy saliva escaped the corners of her mouth. The child she once dreamed of cuddling had stopped moving hours ago. And with every heartbeat, she felt herself slipping further away.
 
"Ya Allah," she whispered. Her voice was barely audible, swallowed by the darkness. The poison did not numb her heart; instead, it amplified the pain. Betrayal, humiliation, and sorrow clung to her like a second skin. She saw images—her husband Zameer with another woman, not a rumor, not imagination—but real, and right there in her own house.
 
In another room, Zameer sat with Khairiyya, the woman who wore short skirts and confidence like armor. She was beautiful, and she knew it. But what shattered Ridayya was not her beauty—it was her husband's affection toward her. That affection had once been hers.
 
“Baby, I heard a noise,” Khairiyya said, fear in her eyes.
 
“Just the wind,” Zameer mumbled, unbothered. He adjusted his vest and went to the door. Everything seemed calm, and so he returned to his lover.
 
But Ridayya lay dying.
 
In the early hours of the morning, Zainaba—Ridayya’s childhood friend and confidante—arrived at the compound with breakfast. Concern grew in her chest as she noticed no light in Ridayya’s windows. Something didn’t feel right. She pushed open the door, calling softly, “Ridayya?”
 
No response.
 
Stepping inside, Zainaba screamed.
 
Ridayya was sprawled across the floor, foaming at the mouth, motionless. The bowl in Zainaba’s hand clattered to the ground.
 
"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un!" she cried, running outside in panic. She called out for Zameer, but he was gone. No one came. She turned, rushing back into the house and headed for his room.
 
There, she found Khairiyya, half-naked, her eyes wide with fear.
 
“You?” Zainaba whispered.
 
Khairiyya stuttered. “It’s not what you think…”
 
But Zainaba wasn’t listening. Her eyes were locked on the half-clothed girl before her—proof that everything Ridayya had suspected was true.
 
“You’ll regret this,” Zainaba hissed. “Both of you.”
 
With fire in her heart, she locked Khairiyya in the room and returned to Ridayya. Her trembling fingers found Ridayya’s phone. One last number dialed—Yaya Bilal.
 
She called.
 
The moment Bilal answered and heard Zainaba's voice, something snapped in him.
 
“Ridayya… she’s not breathing. We think she tried to kill herself,” Zainaba managed.
 
The line went dead.
 
Within minutes, Bilal was there. His face pale, his hands shaking, his shirt soaked with sweat. He lifted Ridayya’s body gently and drove like a madman to the hospital. Speeding through red lights, deaf to the horns and curses of other drivers, all he could hear was her voice in his head and the guilt screaming through his veins.
 
Doctors rushed her in. Bilal sat motionless in the waiting area until his mother—Ammi—arrived.
 
“What happened to her?!” she demanded.
 
“She tried to abort,” said the doctor. “Whatever she drank killed the baby… it’s a miracle she’s alive.”
 
Ammi gasped, her legs nearly giving way.
 
When Bilal didn’t speak, the doctor faced him with fury.
 
“You're her husband, aren’t you? You did this to her. You don’t deserve her!”
 
Ammi intervened, but the doctor shook his head. “She was starving. No vitamins. No care. Only pain.”
 
Outside, Bilal walked like a ghost. The weight of his silence had become a coffin he carried. The woman he loved—the one who had sacrificed everything—now fought for her life because of a man who didn’t value her.
 
He got in his car and drove. Nowhere in particular. Only away from the world.
 
Then fate hit.
 
He collided with another vehicle. When he looked up—of all people—it was Junaid, his cousin.
 
“Bilal? What is wrong with you?! What happened?”
 
Bilal couldn't speak. His hands shook, but his anger burned hotter than ever.
 
“If you say her name, I’ll break your jaw,” Bilal warned.
 
“You’re not yourself,” Junaid said gently. “Ammi sent me. Don’t do anything foolish.”
 
But Bilal had already made up his mind. Either he would kill Zameer, or Zameer would kill him. One of them wouldn’t see the next sunrise.
 
Meanwhile, Zameer—unaware of the chaos he had created—sat in a gambling den, trying to win back money he didn't have. His phone had rung with Ridayya’s name five times. He ignored them all. He had more important things to do: bet on fake friendships, chase a woman who wasn’t his wife, and throw away the only person who ever truly loved him.
 
At home, Khairiyya was unraveling. Trapped in a locked room. The truth of her betrayal had finally caught up to her. Zainaba’s words echoed in her mind like a curse:
 
“Ridayya will haunt your conscience until you lose everything.”
 
EPILOGUE
 
Back in the hospital, Ridayya stirred. Her body weak, her soul broken. The nurses whispered about her survival. They called it a miracle.
 
Bilal stood outside the ICU, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched.
 
"Forgive me," he whispered. "But I swear on your tears… if I lose you, I'll make him pay."