Mutallab Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Shocking Encounter
 
Security officers in various uniforms stood everywhere, yet despite it being a Sunday evening in February, she recognized his face instantly. Terrified, trembling, she rushed at him, clutching at the collar of his grand robe.
“It’s him! Wallahi, it’s him! I knew I would find him!” she cried out.
 
The man, who was about to enter the car waiting for him, stepped back nervously, studying her intently. But he couldn’t recognize her. Who was she? What did she want?
 
“Who is she?” he muttered under his breath, frowning.
“It’s him! The cruel tyrant! You will cry, you humiliated me!” she shouted again.
 
Her words drew journalists toward her. They crowded around, asking:
“Do you know him? What’s your connection to him?”
Before she could answer, another voice commanded:
“Arrest her! Take her away!”
 
The man leaned against his car, sighing, before turning to his aide. “Who is she? Do I know her? Why is she acting as if she knows me?”
 
“Sir,” the aide said gravely, “she truly knows you. Even if she died and came back, she wouldn’t forget your face. Her being alive now means a lot of things. We must shut this down quickly. Don’t let the journalists or even your security detail speak with her. This issue is personal — and it will damage your reputation.”
 
Confused, he frowned. “But where do I know her from? Why should she concern me?”
 
The aide swallowed hard. “Sir… she is the one. The girl they brought to you. The one you raped years ago—”
 
“Enough!” the man barked, feeling dizzy. He forced a smile for the crowd, then leaned close to his aide. “And she’s alive? Fine. Seal this disaster. Make it as though it never happened.”
 
“But what should we do with her?”
 
“Inject her with madness. The one that rots the mind, year after year. Then send her to prison — life imprisonment until she dies. The injection will wipe her memory. And who cares about the poor? Whether she dies or lives, nobody will defend her.” He ended coldly, then stepped into his car.
 
Silenced by Force
 
She was later confined to a room, huddled against the door, her eyes fixed on his photograph. Her heart burned with rage and grief. Suddenly, the door creaked open. A man entered, face hidden beneath a white coat, holding a huge syringe filled with thick red liquid.
 
Horrified, she tried to back away, but he lunged, dragging her violently. She fell onto the carpet. Without hesitation, he stabbed the needle deep into her spine at the base of her neck. She screamed, thrashing wildly. Her eyes rolled, her body stiffened. She smashed her head against the wall as blood trickled from her nose and mouth.
 
Slowly, the injection took hold. Her mind collapsed into darkness.
 
Inside the Shadows of CID
 
Elsewhere, in a dim, narrow alley resembling the cells of a prison, SP Gali led his team. He checked his watch, face grim, then nodded for the guard to open the heavy, foul-smelling metal door. Covering his nose, he instructed his men:
 
“Wait here. If there’s trouble, I’ll signal. He can’t do anything.”
 
Inside, crouched in the small cell, was a man with a hunched back, fists clenched tightly around an object he had carried since his arrest. He hadn’t moved in years, hadn’t spoken.
 
“Hey, you!” SP Gali barked, kicking at the ground. The man didn’t stir. His face buried, motionless as stone.
 
Kneeling, Gali spoke calmly: “You’ve wasted three years. You murdered your wife. If you confess in court today, justice will be served. Why prolong this? Why stay silent?”
 
The man suddenly lifted his head, glaring with burning, blood-red eyes. His hair covered his features, his face wild. Gali flinched, sensing danger.
 
Then he whispered: “Scorpio.”
 
Gali froze. “If I find out you’re Scorpio…”
 
The man rose slowly, towering, whispering with venom: “I will destroy your life. What’s your real name?”
 
Before Gali could respond, the prisoner smashed his head against the wall, thrashing violently. Gali shouted for backup. Officers swarmed in, wrestling him to the ground. He fought like a beast, breaking one officer’s arm. Finally, they chained him hand and foot, dragging him out.
 
A Courtroom of Doubt
 
At the CID headquarters, the infamous suspect — accused of killing his wife — was brought for his final hearing. Teams from multiple divisions surrounded him: Legal, Anti-Human Trafficking, NDLEA, Medical staff. For years he had stayed silent, emaciated yet unbroken.
 
Investigators argued:
“Why did he kill her? They were childhood sweethearts, together since secondary school. Why murder her on their wedding night?”
 
“No evidence holds up,” another said bitterly. “Fingerprints, CCTV, everything is inconclusive.”
 
But inside his mind, memories replayed — his “Bestie.”
 
He saw her again, the girl from class. She had walked in one day with her lunchbox, shy smile, hijab across her chest. She scolded him gently: “You didn’t do the holiday assignment, did you? Here, eat breakfast. I know you haven’t.”
 
He had snarled, pretending to be tough. She only smiled, calling him “Bestie,” confessing her love through tears. She begged him to marry her, not caring for school. She even told her family. She said she was destined for him.
 
He pushed her away. He mocked her tears. But he still ate her food. She left, laughing, dimples glowing, whispering: “You’re my darling. My hero. My Mai dawa da jeji.”
 
Now, chained, he trembled as her laughter echoed in his ears.
 
As they were transferring him back to prison, a shocking order arrived: Release him.
 
“What?!” SP Gali was stunned. “We haven’t finished investigating. What about the girl’s family?”
 
“Orders are orders,” the superior barked. “Free him.”
 
Reluctantly, Gali unchained him. Before leaving, the man scribbled one word on Gali’s palm: SCORPIO. Then he walked away, breathing the air of freedom for the first time in years.
 
Meanwhile, in a poor household in Kano, women argued bitterly over food. Accusations of selfishness and poverty filled the air. Their quarrel was cut short when terrifying howls erupted outside — dogs barking, the kind not heard in years.
 
It was MuÉ—allabi ÆŠanmalam.
 
Bruised, gaunt, yet alive, he stood at the doorway. His presence filled the house with dread. His mother wept, regretting his birth. Neighbors armed with sticks and machetes gathered outside, demanding revenge for the girl he had killed.
 
His loyal dogs — Tiger, Rainbow, Spider — positioned themselves at the gates, ready. Inside, panic spread. Women screamed, children scattered. The mob roared:
 
“Today you die, MuÉ—allabi! You and your family! We will avenge her!”
 
The storm had arrived.