Noorul Huda Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Late Night Escape
 
Slowly, she finished closing the windows and turned toward the large wall clock in her room. Moving to the edge of her bed, she sat and whispered softly, “Rain? Not today please…”
Suddenly, her room door opened — she turned quickly. Her mother stood by the doorway and said,
“Make sure you wear your sweater, pray, and sleep — that’s final!”
She said nothing as her mother turned and left. She glanced again at the clock — it was half past eight.
 
Her phone rang on the bed; she stood and picked it up. Seeing who it was, she placed it on her ear and said,
“Hello!”
From the other end came,
“Don’t tell me you won’t come just because of the rain?”
She sighed and said,
“You know, Mum…”
Her friend interrupted,
“No! That’s unfair. It’s already dark, just sneak out — no one will notice. You said your dad’s out of town, right?”
She dropped her head slightly.
“Alright, I’ll try… I’m on my way.”
 
Within minutes, she got dressed, picked her bag, phone, and some money, then wore her raincoat. Turning off the lights, she quietly stepped into the corridor, glancing toward her mother’s bedroom where dim light glowed — she exhaled in relief. Mum was almost asleep. She tiptoed downstairs, noticed the lights were off, then felt her way to the kitchen and slipped out through the back door without locking it.
 
The gatekeeper said nothing as she passed. She opened the gate and walked out quickly into the silent street, empty except for the glistening streetlights. She soon reached the main road and stopped a tricycle (keke). Her heart raced — she had never done anything like this before. And it was all because of a new friend, someone she barely knew.
 
🎉 The Chaotic Birthday
 
By twenty minutes to nine, she arrived at a large mansion. Despite the heavy rain, the music inside was loud. She entered the gate nervously and moved toward the brightly lit parlor. Men and women danced together — no order, no decency. She spotted her friend — the celebrant — who rushed over, wearing a flowing gown.
“Oh babe! I’m so happy you came! Take off that raincoat — you’re already missing out!”
 
Removing her hood, she said,
“I didn’t know it would be like this… it’s so disorganized.”
Her friend laughed,
“Nothing’s disorganized here. Come on — join the fun!”
 
She shrugged and removed her coat, revealing a fine designer gown beneath. Her friend winked,
“Wow, bestie, you look gorgeous! I wish your boyfriend could see you now.”
She smiled faintly. Her friend pulled her toward the crowd, but she found a seat, opened a bottle of malt, and watched quietly as everyone danced and smoked.
 
She couldn’t relax — it wasn’t her kind of place. Her thoughts wandered: “Can I really keep being friends with Clara? She’s too rough.”
 
Not long after, a young man approached her.
“Hi babe, how you doing?”
“I’m good,” she replied shortly.
“May I know you better?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
 
When Clara called her over, she stood up and left. The guy watched her go, smirking. Then, within seconds, he dropped some pills into her drink and quickly typed something on his phone.
 
Moments later, she returned, picked up the malt, and drank from it. He smiled slightly without saying a word. Within minutes, drowsiness overtook her. Struggling to stand, she muttered,
“Excuse me…”
The guy stood too.
“Oh no problem, are you heading home?”
“Yes…” she whispered.
“Alright, let’s go. Say goodbye to your friend, I’ll drop you off — that’s my job here.”
 
They approached Clara.
“What? So early?” Clara asked in surprise.
“I’m feeling sleepy,” she said weakly.
Clara smiled and said to the guy,
“Please take her home directly, Sam.”
 
He nodded. As they stepped outside, the drizzle continued. He opened the car door for her and drove off. After a short distance, he parked.
“Where do you live, baby?” he asked.
“Tarauni…” she murmured.
“That’s far,” he said, holding her hand, slowly stroking her fingers.
“Take me home…” she muttered.
 
Instead, he pulled her close, touching her face, then tried to slip his hand under her gown.
“Stop it!” she shouted.
“Baby…” he pleaded.
 
She slapped him hard and jumped out of the car. Shocked, he held his cheek and ran after her. Dizzy but terrified, she ran through the quiet streets. Spotting a man standing by some flowers, she rushed toward him, trembling.
“Help me, please!”
 
But as soon as she saw the cigar in his hand, she froze — she tried to run, but he grabbed her violently. She screamed just as Sam caught up. Sam looked at the man once, then turned away and ran back to his car.
 
She struggled helplessly, trembling all over. The man stared down at her coldly.
“Please… forgive me, let me go,” she cried.
He yanked her closer.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked harshly.
His strong perfume mixed with cigarette smell made her dizzy.
“I was at my friend’s birthday,” she stammered.
“So he followed you to rape you, right?” he said coldly. Tears streamed down her face.
“If I knew where you came from,” he added darkly, “I would have let him ruin you.”
 
He shoved her away. She ran off crying — but before she could reach the next corner, two young men appeared. She turned to escape, but one blocked her path. They dragged her toward a car. The man she’d met earlier saw it all from afar, heard her screams, and ran toward them, but by the time he got close, the car sped away.
“Shit!” he cursed, jumping into his vehicle and giving chase.
 
At a roundabout, he caught up, forcing them to stop. One of the boys came out, ready to fight, but he ignored him, opened the back door, and found the girl unconscious, her mouth covered with a cloth. He dragged her out, threw her into his car, and sped off.
 
🕯️ The Rescue and the Night After
 
After driving a long distance, he parked by the roadside and looked back — her head was tilted, motionless.
“Hey!” he called. No response.
He shouted again — still silent. Quickly, he opened the back door, touched her nose, and cursed. Pulling away the cloth, he adjusted her hair and stared at her face — her closed eyes, long lashes, straight nose, and soft pink lips. He turned away, conflicted. Then he leaned close, opened her mouth, and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
 
After a while, she sneezed loudly and gasped. He pulled back instantly, wiping his face with a handkerchief. Slowly, she sat up, holding her head. He stared at her quietly.
 
She tried to stand but staggered; he held her arm.
“Stay still,” he ordered.
Crying softly, she said,
“Please… take me home. My head hurts.”
He glared at her.
“Why were you out for a birthday at night?”
Barely opening her red eyes, she muttered,
“Please… just take me home.”
 
He hissed, threw the handkerchief aside, and moved to the driver’s seat.
“Where’s your house?” he barked.
Through tears, she gave directions. He turned on loud music to drown her sobs.
 
He stopped near a large pharmacy, went inside, and bought medicine. When he returned, she tried to get out but was too weak. Crying again, she sank back. He handed her the medicine silently and drove off.
 
Finally, they reached her home — a big mansion. He looked at it in surprise.
“For the sake of Allah and Islam, take your medicine,” he said sternly.
 
She looked at him with teary eyes, took the bag, and stepped out, nearly collapsing. He said nothing — just reversed and sped away.
 
With heavy steps, she sneaked quietly to her room, not wanting to wake her mother. Dropping the medicine, she fell onto the bed, turning restlessly as tears rolled down her face.