Nida Yaya Habeeb Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A young girl, likely between 16 to 17 years old, walked slowly down the street. She carried a food flask in her hand and wore a blue novou Ankara outfit with yellow patterns, matched with a bright yellow hijab. Her feet brought her straight to a tailor shop named "Me and Big Brother Habeeb Tailoring Center."
 
As soon as she stepped inside, her cheerful face fell like a sudden downpour. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she stared at the four young men inside. With clenched teeth, she headed straight for one of them who sat facing the entrance.
 
She dropped the food flask in front of him, her voice trembling, “Yaya Salman, I brought your food.”
 
The one addressed as Salman finally looked up. His face was cold, clearly annoyed. "Does your family send you to bring me food all the time?" he snapped.
 
Before she could respond, another guy in the shop who had been sitting close to a beautiful young lady—busy showing him dress styles on her phone—spoke up. "Come on, Salman, what’s this? Don’t be harsh."
 
But Salman, clearly angry, dismissed him. “Wallahi, Habeeb, I pity you. This little girl spins you like bread in an oven. Watch how she’ll chase away customers. If you marry her, I wonder how you’ll feed her.”
 
Turning to the girl, he barked, “And you? What are you still doing here? Go home! And if I see you near this shop again, I swear I’ll deal with you.”
 
Tears spilling, she ran out without another word.
 
Furious, Habeeb snapped, “I don’t like what you just did, Salman. You know better than anyone that I hate seeing my baby love in pain. You just chased her like she’s a stray dog!”
 
Salman glared. “She’s lucky I didn’t go further. In fact, I should’ve!”
 
With that, Habeeb stormed out of the shop, ignoring a customer still trying to explain her order. She turned to Salman, clearly shocked, but he just hissed and muttered, “Mum’s boy,” making the other guys laugh.
 
Meanwhile, the girl, Haleesa, kept running, tears streaming down her face. People stared, some asking what was wrong, but she ignored everyone. She wanted to reach home—fast.
 
As she rushed into her compound, she nearly collided with their goat, which had just been chased out. It missed her by inches. Her hijab flew off and landed in a pot of hot water. She cried even louder and ran into her mother’s room, collapsing on the silver bed and sobbing into the mattress.
 
Her mother, Ammi, walked in, shocked by the noise. “What’s wrong with you, Haleesa?” she barked.
 
Still crying, Haleesa mumbled, “Ammi, I saw Habeeb talking to another girl in the shop. My heart broke. It hurts so much whenever I see him with someone else. I feel like I’m going mad!”
 
Ammi shouted, “You’re mad already! What kind of obsession is this? He’s your cousin, not your property. Do you think he was born just for you?”
 
With that, she warned, “You better behave yourself or I’ll beat some sense into you!” and stormed out.
 
Chastised, Haleesa wiped her tears and dragged herself to the tap to do the dishes. Her heart ached. Why couldn’t they understand that her overwhelming love for Habeeb was what made her act this way?
 
Suddenly, someone called from outside, “Assalamu Alaikum.” It was Habeeb.
 
Ammi responded coldly, “Wa’alaikum salam. Oh, so you followed her here? After letting her embarrass herself in your shop?” She glared at him while holding a cooking spoon.
 
Habeeb didn’t even look her way. He leaned against the wall, quietly watching Haleesa as she continued washing dishes. She avoided his gaze but sneaked glances full of love, disappointment, and longing.
 
After some time, he slowly squatted next to her and said in a soft, warm voice, “I’m sorry, baby love. There’s nothing between me and that girl. She was just showing me a dress style. Please stop crying—it breaks my heart.”
 
Still sniffling, she asked, “Why do you always treat me this way? Is it because I’m not as pretty as those girls at your shop?”
 
Shocked, Habeeb sat up. “What? Who said that? You think I love you less because you’re not like them? Haleesa, don’t ever say that again.”
 
She pouted. “It’s true. I’ve seen them. They’re beautiful, confident, always in your face.”
 
He held his head and said, “If I could open my heart and show you what’s inside, you’d see that it’s filled only with you.”
 
That made her pause. His words wrapped around her soul like honey. She whispered, “I love you, Yaya Habeeb.”
 
He smiled softly. “But you always hurt my heart.”
 
She giggled, “It’s not my fault.”
 
“Then whose fault?” he teased.
 
“It’s your fault,” she replied, looking him straight in the eyes. “Because your love invaded my soul before I even knew what love meant.”
 
His smile deepened. He rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt and began helping her wash dishes. They worked together—she washed, he rinsed.
 
Suddenly, he cupped water in his hands and splashed it on her face.
 
Startled, she gasped, “Habeeb!”
 
Laughing, he ran off as she chased him. “I’ll get you back!”
 
She scooped water with a cup and poured it over his head. “That's for messing with me!”
 
He frowned playfully. “You soaked my favorite shirt!”
 
“You started it!” she giggled.
 
Then he did the unthinkable—he poured the entire bucket over her.
 
She screamed and ran inside, calling, “Ammi, come see what he did!”
 
Ammi looked out and shook her head. “I don’t know who between you two is crazier.”
 
Haleesa only smiled and cleaned up the place. Afterward, she changed into her dark blue uniform and white hijab, ready for Islamic school.
 
Before leaving, she called out, “Ammi, I’m going to Islamiyya.”
 
Ammi, still fanning the firewood, replied, “Alright. And don’t forget to stop at Delu’s place to collect my money.”
 
Haleesa smiled. “Okay, Ammi—but if she doesn’t give it, should I collect it in kind?”
 
Ammi shot her a look. “Just bring it one way or another.”
 
Haleesa chuckled and walked out with a heart once heavy, now light—thanks to one smile, one apology, and one splash of water.