Shu'umar Masarauta Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Fulani Babba’s Mysterious Illness
 
A scorching pain spread from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, shaking her body like one struck by a drumbeat. Sweat streamed from every pore. This was not the first time she had felt it, but today it burned like her flesh was boiling in a pot of hot water.
 
She bit her lips, waved her hands, and shut her eyes. Behind her, Baiwa Maimuna fanned gently, hiding her real intention. With cunning skill, she secretly plucked a strand of Fulani Babba’s hair and stabbed it into her waist, sighing in relief—for she knew she had escaped Umaima’s suspicion.
 
“Forgive me, Uwar É—akina,” Maimuna said softly. “I’ll head to Takawa’s quarters and ask Jakadiya to bring your medicine. The pain seems to worsen, but pardon me if my words are misplaced.”
 
Fulani Babba nodded wearily and clasped Maimuna’s hand. “Send Zainaba to me once you return.”
 
Maimuna bowed low. “Allah ya Æ™ara lafiya, may Yarima arrive safely with prosperity.” She quickly left, masking her excitement.
 
Umaima’s Deceptive Plot
 
Fear pressed Maimuna’s chest as she walked toward Umaima’s quarters, turning back like a guilty gossip. She knew Umaima had expected her.
 
Collapsing on the floor, she praised lavishly:
“Hutawarki lafiya, Fulani mai magajin masarauta! Zinariya ta Mai martaba, haskenki ya cika sarauta...”
 
Umaima interrupted sharply. “Did everything go as planned?”
 
Maimuna smiled. Umaima sighed, knowing success without needing more words. “Ranka shi daÉ—e, the task is complete,” Maimuna replied, handing over the stolen hair.
 
Umaima’s lips spread into a wide smile. “And now?”
 
“She commanded me to fetch medicine from Jakadiya, as you foresaw.”
 
Umaima chuckled, retrieved a small charm bag from beneath her bed, and filled it with powdered medicine. “Give her this. Mix it in her water or food, make sure she drinks and rubs it on her body. Tonight, return—we have secrets to share.”
 
Maimuna bowed deeply. “Fansar kaina gare ki, Uwar gida. Your command is my shield.”
 
With both Umaima’s charm and the official medicine from Takawa delivered, Maimuna dutifully returned to Fulani Babba, helping her drink and rub the mixture. Soon Fulani Babba felt a cool breeze inside her bones, relaxing on her bed. But hidden within was the venom of betrayal.
 
Journey to Bamaguje the Sorcerer
 
Once Fulani Babba lay resting, Maimuna rushed back to Umaima. She found her mistress dressed in a strange robe stitched with Arabic charms, holding a horn in her hand.
 
“Give me your hand,” Umaima commanded. Though disgusted, Maimuna obeyed. Umaima closed her eyes, blew the horn three times, and invoked Bamagujen Dutse.
 
Suddenly, a storm swept the room. In a blink, they stood before a massive white rock glowing under unnatural light. Stepping carefully on blood-stained ground, they climbed toward the shrine.
 
There sat Bamaguje—naked, fearsome. Maimuna turned her face, but Umaima walked straight to him. Washing her face with blood-water, she greeted:
“Barka da aiki, uban gidana.”
 
He nodded. “Barkanki, Fulanin Sarki Abdul’aziz. You’ve done well.”
 
Umaima smirked proudly. “All as you instructed.”
 
Bamaguje stirred a pot of boiling blood, tossing in the hair of Fulani Babba and the King. “We’ve cursed her with weak memory, leaking bladder, and foul body odor,” he declared.
 
Maimuna’s heart ached for the betrayed Fulani Babba, but she remained silent.
 
The Prophecy of a Dangerous Birth
 
Then Umaima asked sharply, “What of her pregnancy? Has it perished?”
 
Bamaguje poured slimy blood on a metal board. Three times he tried, then frowned. “Kishiyarki will give birth tonight.”
 
Umaima staggered. “What nonsense is this? That child is my greatest fear!”
 
“Her child is no ordinary one,” Bamaguje said firmly. “It is the cursed destiny of your royal line—Shu’umar Masarauta. Unless fate itself breaks, neither you nor Abdul’aziz will touch again. But Umaima—” he leaned closer—“you too carry a pregnancy of three weeks.”
 
Umaima’s tears flowed, but hope returned. “Bamaguje, I trust you as my mother did. Don’t shame me.”
 
He handed her a huge scorpion. “Give me your hand.”
 
She trembled, then mocked: “Even a starved hyena fears no dog.” He laughed. Whispering a secret in her ear, she burst into joyous laughter.
 
Finally, when he demanded his reward, she refused her body but offered her rival instead. “Tonight, my kishiya is yours.”
 
With that, Umaima donned her robe again. The sorcerer dismissed them, and through the horn they returned home.
 
Back in her quarters, the air still heavy with incense, Maimuna collapsed before Umaima.
 
“Allah huta gajiya, uwar gijiyata,” she whispered, though inside her heart trembled at the burden of secrets she now carried.