Sirrin Zuciya Part 1 Complete Hausa NovelComplete Hausa Novel

Praise and gratitude be to the Lord of all creation. May the peace and blessings of Allah continue to abound upon the leader, Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W).
This book bearing the title above is purely fictional. It was not written for any particular person, male or female. If it happens to resemble anyone’s life situation, then it is only a coincidence. Likewise, I do not permit anyone to reproduce, adapt, or rewrite the story of this book in any form. Doing so without permission may lead to legal action, so please take note.
I extend my heartfelt appreciation to all my beloved supporters wherever they may be. I am truly grateful and I pray for goodness for you all. I also hope that this time again you will stay with me through this book titled Gudun Aure. As usual, Book 1 will be given to you free here on WhatsApp, while Books 2, 3, and 4 will be available as paid books on Telegram and Arewa. I look forward to receiving your full support. Those reading on Arewa Books may quickly head there, because I have gone far ahead on that platform.
Thanks and best wishes.
Fatima Musa Nijar
Usaina Abdulmalik Kaita
Hairi
Aisha Aliyu
Munnira
Amina
Fadima Sani
Prof. Asabe
Sakina Mahmud
Zainab Yola
Amra
Fatima Gwaram
Giwar Sarkin Sudan
Maimuna Ramalan
The first page is specially dedicated free of charge to Jamila Adam Namaska Hajjaju. Thank you so much. 🥰💯
Book 1
Kano State
Kofar Kabuga
1
My name is Amina Malam Salisu, though I am popularly known as Mai Wankin Hula (the cap washer). I am a professional tailor, and also a government school teacher. I teach Hausa language to children in a primary school in Gwale Local Government. I am currently a widow with two children, both boys. The elder one is named Kamalu, while his younger brother is Yusuf, whom we call Yusi. Their father died four years ago, when Yusi was only seven years old. The age difference between him and his brother Kamalu is just one year. Their father, may Allah have mercy on him, and I used to think that I conceived Yusuf around the time Kamalu was marking his forty-day naming period. So the age gap between them is really not much. Kamalu is now twelve years old, while Yusi is eleven.
Since the death of Yaya Aminu, the father of my children, I returned to live in my family home, because the house we had been living in together was a rented one, owing to his financial struggles and lack of a stable occupation. By the will of Allah, we were fortunate that the room my siblings and I used during our younger days was still available, although the women of the house used it for storing household items. That was where I squeezed in with my few belongings and settled, struggling through life until Allah decides what will become of us.
Throughout the thirteen years of marriage between Yaya Aminu and me, I was almost the backbone of the household, because Allah made it possible for me to have a job. Besides that, I sewed women’s clothes and did minor alterations. On top of that, people also brought me contract work to make handbags, small purses, and caps made from hijab fabric. Allah truly blessed me greatly. Every month when I collected my salary, the tailoring business I did also helped us a lot, so much so that we would reach the next month without being crushed by hardship.
I never once regretted or felt resentment in my heart whenever Yaya Aminu asked me for something, as long as I had it. I would simply give it to him without argument or complaint. My greatest wish was always for our dignity and private life to remain fully protected. In fact, from the very beginning of our marriage, I made a promise that as long as Allah continued to provide for me, Yaya Aminu would remain more important to me than anything else, because of the great kindness and sacrifice he showed me in my life.
Although my salary was not much, since I was only teaching in a primary school, whenever salaries were paid I would set aside transport money for him. After he was dismissed from the company where he had worked because his illness worsened, he returned to the market to hustle in small ways. That was why whenever I received my salary, I always kept aside some money for him, enough to cover his movement for the month because of his condition. He had no means of transport, and the distance from our neighborhood to the market where he did his small trading was very far.
Neither I nor Gwaggwo, his mother, had ever known that he had any illness until he was brought back from work in a weak and struggling condition. It was then that the doctor confirmed to us that he had severe asthma. In addition to that, he also had a cold-related chest illness, pneumonia, which had been triggered by the constant contact with water and the inhaling of the cold early-morning air. He used to leave immediately after the dawn prayer, and he walked on foot because the company was not very far from our house. Besides that, he also had a problem with one of his legs — he leaned on it, but his heel could not touch the ground properly. The doctor explained to us that the air he inhaled and the intense walking he did had all combined to trigger the illness.