Rash Boyayyen Masheki Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Kaduna South, Kinkinau, Ustaz Mosque lane, is a neighborhood of moderately wealthy people.
She was walking dressed decently, in a hijab that reached down to the ground and a niqab; only her eyes, which were heavily adorned with kohl, could be seen on her body. As she arrived near their house, her father, Mallam Abdullahi Saleh Ustaz, came out of their home. Respectfully, she greeted him:
"Abba, good afternoon."
"Welcome back, have you already returned from school?"
"Yes, Abba."
"May Allah bless it," he said, and then entered the mosque to call the Maghrib prayer. With a greeting, she entered their moderate-sized and quite decent house. There was no one in the courtyard, so she went into their room.
"Assalamu Alaikum," was the greeting she used to enter the room. There was silence and no answer, so she switched on the room's lightbulb, and immediately the electric light illuminated the room. It was a large room containing two bunk beds of the boarding school type, meaning four beds in total, along with two large wardrobes and a mirror that was filled with an abundance of cosmetics. She took off her bag and removed her niqab while looking at herself in the mirror. "Alhamdulillah," she uttered, looking at the beauty Allah had blessed her with. She was not fair-skinned but had a rich chocolate complexion, with a high nose, large eyes, and black eyelashes that would make you think she was wearing false eyelashes. She could not be called tall, nor could she be called short; her height was just perfect.
"Oh, so you've come in?" she heard the voice of her elder sister, Hajara, who stretched a bit from where she was lying down while rubbing her eyes.
"Yes, Aunty Hajara, I'm back. So you were up there sleeping."
"Ugh, please don't disturb me," another young woman uttered from the other bed.
"Really, Mary? Don't tell me you haven't started cooking yet?" Hajara said, her eyes widening. Immediately, they climbed down and rushed out, even running a little, upon hearing some mosques starting to call for prayer, knowing it was the Maghrib prayer. She released a gentle smile while removing her hijab, then went out to check on Umma before joining the prayer. She entered Umma's large room with a greeting. The living room looked beautiful, everything was ash and white, and it was very spacious, with a television area on one side. There was no one in the living room, so she headed towards the large kitchen whose door was on the west side, where she could hear faint chatter. Four people were inside: Umma, Hajara, Maryam, and Zainab, who appeared to be the one cooking as she was busy slicing onions.
"Yes, sleep is more important than anything to you all, just keep on sleeping," Umma said, rising from the chair she was sitting on.
"Please forgive me, I swear I spoke to Maryam because it was her turn, and then she fell asleep, and I didn't realize that sleep had overtaken me too."
"Please forgive me, Umma, I wasn't feeling well, which is why I lay down and didn't realize sleep had overtaken me, my head is aching," Maryam said quickly, realizing Hajara was about to shift the blame onto her.
"That's enough, it's fine. Go, they have entered the mosque," Umma said bluntly, as they were fond of sleeping, though Zainab wasn't any trouble and was almost always in the kitchen doing her own thing.
"Umma, good evening," she said, and they turned to look at her, as they hadn't realized when she came in.
"Welcome, Ramlat." That was all Umma said before passing by to her room. If it was about being used to it, she was used to it; Umma never joked around with her the way she did with the other children of the house. It was Hajara who patted her shoulder, saying:
"Sorry, Ramlat."
"Oh, it's no problem, let me go and pray." With that, she walked away quickly.
"Seriously, when is Umma going to change towards Ramlat? Honestly, I don't feel good about this; to think she won't even have a long conversation with her," Zainab said, turning off the gas stove since she had finished.