Qadr Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Small Student Room and an Urgent Call
The room was simple, with a large mattress spread on the floor and a wooden wardrobe fixed to one side of the wall. On the other side were three boxes stacked on top of one another. Beside the boxes, handouts and notebooks were neatly arranged in an appealing order, along with a small mirror glued to the wall. The loud ringing of her phone pulled her from a deep sleep. Still groggy, she picked up the phone, rubbing her eyes to see who was calling so persistently. When she saw the name Habiba on the screen, she quickly sat up and answered just as the call was about to drop.
Before she could speak, Habiba’s voice came through from the other end. “Are you okay, Rukayya? I’ve been calling and you’re not picking up. Where did you throw your phone?”
Rukayya yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Habiba, I was asleep while you were calling. I didn’t even know you called until now when I heard the phone ringing.”
Habiba sounded shocked. “You said you were sleeping?”
“Yes, I was sleeping. Is there anything wrong with that? There’s no school today—it’s a public holiday.”
Still surprised, Habiba asked, “Didn’t you see my text last night?”
“I didn’t see it. I slept early,” Rukayya replied casually.
“Well then, get up and get ready and come to school right now,” Habiba said urgently. “We’re submitting Dr. Isma’il’s assignment. He said exactly 10:00 a.m.—anyone who doesn’t submit by then won’t be accepted and will get a zero without question.”
A Rush Against Time
The moment Habiba mentioned Dr. Isma’il, every trace of sleep vanished from Rukayya’s eyes. She clutched her chest in alarm. “I’m finished! Habiba, I swear I didn’t see your message, but I’m coming now. Please wait for me so we can go together.”
“Just hurry up,” Habiba replied. “If you don’t come quickly, you’ll miss the submission. We’re all waiting here for him—you know how he is.” Then she hung up abruptly.
Rukayya stared at her phone in disbelief, then tossed it onto the bed and looked at the wall clock—9:48 a.m. Her heart started pounding. How will I reach BUK before ten? Even leaving her street to find transportation would take time, and once she reached school she would still have to trek to the department, which was quite far.
Realizing she was wasting precious time, she rushed to her wardrobe and pulled out a long Ankara dress, slipping it on quickly over the T-shirt and shorts she had slept in. She dashed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth hurriedly, splashed water on her face, then came out, put on her hijab, slung her school bag—certain her assignment was inside—over her shoulder, and grabbed her niqab from atop the boxes. Standing before the small mirror on the wall, she adjusted it in haste.
The Race to Campus
In the living room she found Sajeed, an eight-year-old boy, lying in front of the TV watching cartoons.
“Sajeed, my boy?” she called.
He quickly looked up. “Aunty, where are you going? Isn’t there no school today?”
Almost on the verge of tears, she replied, “I’m going to submit an assignment. Be a good boy—no mischief. Lock the door after I leave, and if anyone knocks, don’t open until you ask who it is, okay?”
“Okay, Aunty,” he said, getting up to lock the door behind her as she hurried out.
By the time she reached the roadside and found a ride, it was 9:54 a.m. No matter how fast she went, she knew she couldn’t make it before 10:00 a.m. The distance, Kano traffic, and the trek from the school gate to her department were all against her. She could only pray that the lecturer wouldn’t arrive early.
She searched her bag for her phone to call Habiba again and beg her to wait, but it was nowhere to be found—she had left it on the bed in her rush. Frustration filled her. She almost wished she could take over driving the tricycle herself because it felt too slow.
“Mallam, please go faster—I’m in a hurry,” she pleaded.
The driver, slightly amused, replied, “Haba, Hajiya, isn’t this fast enough? Unless you want me to fly?”
She ignored his comment. When they reached the school, she paid him and hurried toward her department. The campus was unusually quiet, as if it weren’t a Monday, except for a few scattered students. At the entrance of her department, she greeted a security guard in uniform and asked for the time.
“10:21 a.m.,” he replied.
Her eyes widened before she thanked him and hurried inside.