Sakar Makafi Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

She burst into tears, sliding down where she stood and sitting as she wept softly, her voice trembling as she spoke:
“What other than death can separate a child from their mother? How can you say that wherever I am, they won’t come there?” She then rested her head on the chair, her voice shaking as she continued, “Yah Amin, death has separated me from you, and your brother will separate me from Zaid.”
As she felt her breathing becoming heavy, she stood up shakily, took some water, and drank.
Looking toward the door of the room, she went back into the bedroom.
In surprise, she checked the time on her phone—it was 1:30 a.m. Slowly, she got up and walked into the living room. Everywhere was quiet except for the TV that was still on. Calmly, she went to the door of the living room and opened it—it opened easily. She peeked outside, looking around, but there was nothing—just a strange brightness, almost like daylight. That made her quickly shut the door again, without even locking it.
Slowly, she lay down, covering herself completely up to her head, breathing deeply after her quiet sobbing.
In the morning, she stood in the middle of the living room in surprise, picking up Yah Amin’s phone from the center table. It was 9:00 a.m. She turned around slightly and noticed his box placed beside the single-seater chair—all his belongings packed inside.
After giving Zaid his medicine and adjusting how she carried him, she handed him to Zaitoon, took the dining tray, and went off with them to have breakfast.
Kano
Preparations for Salim and Salma’s wedding were already in full swing. Guests from nearby had started arriving, not to mention those coming from far away.
At Ummi’s house, Amina had already arrived with her children. She said she would stay until the wedding was over and return the following Monday.
“And you’ll leave your husband alone just because of your younger brother’s wedding?” Ummi asked, watching her closely.
Quickly, she replied, “Ummi, Hafiz’s father traveled to Sudan yesterday, and he’ll be gone for ten days or more. That’s why I told him I would come. He agreed and said it’s fine—that I should come and celebrate, and also apologize to Abba that he won’t be able to attend the wedding.”
Satisfied, Goggo Dada said, “Well, at least you’ll help ease our longing for Zaid and his parents.”
Amina smiled and said, “They’ll be back soon. Salim keeps saying Mahmoud must attend his wedding.”
Ummi added, “We just spoke with Fariyda earlier—she said Zaid is much better now. Maybe they’ll return before the wedding ends.”
Just then, Sulaiman and Salim entered, followed by Dr. Fadil. Salim said, “Ummi, do you recognize him?”
Smiling, Ummi replied, “Of course I do.”
As Dr. Fadil sat beside her, he said, “How can a mother forget her child?”
Quickly, Goggo Dada asked, “Fadil, where is Fadilan Mahmoud?”
He made a slight face and said, “Goggo Dada, I’m still waiting for her—that’s why I haven’t married yet. But Mahmoud, you’ve already married him off. From now on, stop calling me Fadilan Mahmoud—call me Fadilan Fadil.”
They all laughed, watching Amina as she began reminiscing about their childhood, back in primary school.
Ahmedabad
She sat silently, staring at the chair he usually sat or lay on. Since he left yesterday, he hadn’t returned—even though it was already 10 p.m. She looked at his box in confusion—what did this mean?
She sat on the three-seater couch, closing her eyes. The way he had looked at her before leaving replayed in her mind. Suddenly, she opened her eyes, remembering clearly how tears had been falling from his eyes, one after another.
“So he can cry too?” she said aloud. “Then why didn’t he hurt me like he used to? Why didn’t he threaten to break my hand? Why didn’t he shout at me or glare at me?”
She exhaled deeply and said softly, “Has he realized the weight of the sin of separating a mother from her children? Or did Yah Amin remind him, making him cry?”
As she finished speaking, her eyes filled with tears that began to fall. Suddenly, she turned her head, thinking someone had entered—but no one was there. The scent of his perfume still filled the living room.
Slowly, she stood up.
She sat on the edge of the bed, watching Zaid beside her. When he opened his eyes, he moved closer to her and said, “Appiy, Appiy, pipiy.”
She hugged him tightly—the kind of hug she used to see Mahmoud give them, the kind that would instantly make them fall asleep no matter what.
He lifted his head slightly and looked at her sleepily, then said, “Appiy pipiy… Ammiy.”
She was surprised—today he pronounced “Ammiy” clearly, just like he said “Appiy.” She stroked his head until he fell back asleep, then laid him down.
Quietly, she stood up again and went back to the living room, fear beginning to creep into her. She shut the door and locked it.
The next day, she was on the phone with Aunty Saddiqa.
“Today is Sisters’ Day, and you’re not here,” Saddiqa said.
Softly, she replied, “Honestly, my whole mind is back home. I know you’re all together now, and I’m the only one missing.”
Zainab, who was beside Saddiqa, asked, “So when exactly are you coming back?”
She sighed softly. “I don’t know.”
Saddiqa quickly said, “Then ask him. Maybe you’ll return before Raihana’s wedding?”
She asked in surprise, “Raihana’s wedding has been fixed?”
Zainab replied, “Yes. Yesterday, Hajja Inna came with Kawu Kabiru, Bashir, his parents, and all the wedding items—including the dowry and household goods.”
Quickly, she asked, “When is the date?”
Saddiqa answered, “It’s not far. I won’t return to Adamawa yet. I’ll stay until after the wedding, escort the bride, then go to Yola. Maybe we’ll even come back together if my husband agrees.”
Softly, she asked, “Please, when exactly is the wedding?”
Salma, who had just joined them, moved closer to the phone and said, “22nd December.”
She quickly calculated and nodded. “In sha Allah, we’ll be back before then. But Aunty Saddiqa, this time you’ll stay long—your marriage has already reached 40 days now.”
Looking at Zaitoon, she added, “Since Daddy Aslam has gone to Pakistan for three months, I’ll stay too. The children are with his mother.”
Happily, she said, “I pray we return soon.”
Salma said, “Then ask him.”
Looking at Zaitoon, who was tugging her hand and saying repeatedly, “Ammiy! Appiy! Appiy!” she said, “If I see him… it’s been two days now since I last saw him.”
Quickly, Saddiqa asked, “What do you mean you haven’t seen him?”
She shook her head slightly. “Aunty Saddiqa, we’ll talk later. Let me give Zaid his medicine.”
Without waiting, she ended the call. She looked at them—Zaid was standing at the bedroom door calling “Appiy,” while Zaitoon kept pulling her hand, calling “Appiy” again and again.
Softly, she said, “Zaitoon, I don’t know where your father is.”
She stood up, opened the door, and they ran into the living room, heading for the three-seater couch. Then they both turned back to her, calling “Appiy.”
Frowning slightly, she said, “What is it that he gives you that makes you trouble me like this?”
She handed them their tablet and sat beside them as they began to play.
Her eyes fell on Yah Amin’s phone on the center table as Sa’ad called—but she didn’t pick it up before it stopped ringing. She sighed softly, seeing that Zaid and the others had fallen asleep right there.
The next morning, she was on the phone with Ummi.
Smiling, Ummi looked at her grandchildren and said, “Fariyda, where is their father? They keep calling him, and it’s been three days since I last spoke to him.”
Surprised, she looked at Ummi, then glanced at his box again, her heart pounding, and said, “Ummi, try calling his line. He left Yah Amin’s phone in the living room…”