Rubabbiyar Igiya Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Woman’s Burden
 
She sat quietly in her modest living room on a single chair, running a comb through her long, dark hair. Only one braid remained before she finished. When she was done, she tied it neatly, stood, and walked into her bedroom, a room adjoining the sitting area—one of those spaces commonly referred to as “our classroom.”
 
Standing before the mirror, she admired her reflection. Fair-skinned, of medium height, with a long face framed by bold brows and thick eyelashes. Her nose was sharp, her hair black and shiny, flowing past her shoulders. A complete creation from head to toe—the kind of beauty every woman wished to possess. Her friends often called her Matar Manyan—“The Wife of the Greats.” Yet, reality was cruel. She had not married a man of power, nor had she achieved the glamorous life she imagined.
 
Instead, she was bound to ABBAS, a man she felt unworthy of her beauty or dreams.
 
> “This cannot be my destiny forever,” she whispered bitterly. “One day, I will fulfill my dream of becoming Matar Manyan. I will not remain stuck in this cursed marriage.”
 
 
 
Her eyes caught a framed picture of ABBAS leaning against the bed. She hissed in disgust. He was not her dream, not her pride. In her eyes, he was no better than a gatekeeper, yet fate had tied her to him. She clenched her teeth, tied her hair back into a bun, and left for the kitchen.
 
Hunger and Frustration
 
Her stomach growled loudly. She uncovered the leftover tuwo from yesterday, placed it in soup, and set it on firewood to warm. Just then, her phone rang in the sitting room. By the time she reached it, the call had ended. She shrugged—it made no difference. She had no airtime to return calls anyway.
 
A second call came in. This time, it was her friend EESHART.
 
“Where have you been? I sent you a WhatsApp message, and you’ve been offline,” her friend complained.
 
“My data finished,” SALIMAH replied softly, her voice heavy with sadness.
 
“Innalillahi! SALIMAH, look at the condition you’ve put yourself in. No data, no airtime… and yet you didn’t answer my first call!”
 
“I was in the kitchen, warming tuwo.”
 
“Tuwo?!” EESHART exclaimed, almost as if SALIMAH had said something shameful.
 
SALIMAH remained silent, overwhelmed by frustration.
 
“I was just about to send you a picture of what my maid cooked for me today—yam balls, chicken pepper soup, fried eggs, and tea with thick milk. That’s real food.”
 
Her words stung SALIMAH like a knife. EESHART’s life was the very dream she longed for—a life of abundance and elegance.
 
“Well, that’s the life you chose,” EESHART continued bluntly. “You married into poverty, so you must endure it. I can’t even remember the last time I ate tuwo.”
 
Tears welled up in SALIMAH’s eyes. “But you know I don’t have the power to divorce myself. And ABBAS—he clings to me like a chain. He swears that as long as he breathes, he will never release me.”
 
“Of course he won’t! You’re a rare jewel. He knows he’ll never find another woman like you. But don’t give up. Even airplanes take off only after struggle. Keep trying—one day, he might say the word ‘divorce’ by mistake, even in his sleep.”
 
They ended the call after EESHART promised to send her data and airtime. Still, SALIMAH’s heart was restless. She longed for freedom, for the day ABBAS would release her so she could marry into wealth and live the luxurious life she envied.
 
Envy of the Rich
 
She returned to the kitchen, but her frustration boiled over. With one careless kick, she knocked the small pot of tuwo to the floor. Instead, she took ₦1,000 from the money ABBAS had left and stormed out of the rented compound.
 
Outside, her eyes landed on the mansion across the street—Alhaji ALI’s house. It was the kind of home she dreamed of living in: grand, beautiful, almost like paradise on earth. How she wished fate had placed her there instead of in this wretched rented space.
 
As she admired the mansion, the gate swung open. A sleek, new car drove out, its shine catching her attention. At the back seat sat Alhaji ALI himself. Their eyes met briefly—his through the tinted glass, hers fixed on the car with longing.
 
ALI was stunned. He had never seen such beauty in his neighborhood, much less living in a poor man’s rented house. To him, she looked like a goddess trapped in the wrong place.
 
Flustered, SALIMAH quickly called out to a beggar nearby, pretending to give him alms. ALI’s car drove past, but he kept looking back until the street swallowed them.
 
Small Luxuries
 
After the encounter, SALIMAH sent the beggar to buy bread, eggs, and milk. She returned inside and prepared tea, finally satisfying her hunger.
 
With the data EESHART sent, she rejoined her WhatsApp groups. In a business group, she watched women ordering lace and abaya worth over ₦300,000 without hesitation. Her heart ached. If only she had such money, she too would dazzle in those outfits.
 
Instead, five years into her marriage, she had nothing to show—no progress, only backwardness. Poverty had chained her. Her father once claimed that ABBAS was her destined husband, that he truly loved her. Yet since his death, she had known nothing but regret.
 
Scrolling through WhatsApp statuses, she saw her friends flaunting wealth—lavish makeup, grand homes, birthday parties for their children with cakes and decorations.
 
“Now this is real life,” she muttered bitterly, glancing around her own plain sitting room. Compared to theirs, her home felt like a desert hut.
 
She shut off her phone and lay down. Hunger and envy drained her energy until sleep finally claimed her.
 
ABBAS the Carpenter
 
Meanwhile, ABBAS spent the day at his carpentry shop, working tirelessly. Despite missing his wife, his calls to her went unanswered. He had left only a small portion of tuwo for her, refusing to eat so she could have enough.
 
By evening, he received his pay—₦3,800. He slipped it back into his pocket, calculating carefully. Earlier, he had borrowed money to ensure there was food at home.
 
To him, SALIMAH was everything. He knew he was poor, but he tried his best. No sacrifice was too great if it meant making her smile. Yet, no matter what he did, she never seemed to appreciate him.
 
He feared losing her more than anything. Divorce was unthinkable—without her, life held no meaning.
 
But SALIMAH, poisoned by envy and the words of her friends, longed for the opposite. For her, ABBAS was the obstacle standing between her and the life of luxury she dreamed of.