So Ne Silar Komai Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

It was during the cold season. Though it was already ten o’clock, the weather felt more like seven in the morning because of the freezing cold that kept everyone indoors. Anyone brave enough to step outside had no choice but to wrap themselves heavily in thick winter clothing.
At the roadside sat a tall young man on a small bench by the street.
What made the scene strange was that he wore nothing except a plain white garment. No sweater, no jacket, and yet he showed absolutely no sign of feeling cold.
That alone was enough to amaze anyone.
Suddenly, he clicked his tongue in frustration, stood up, and walked into their compound while trying to wipe away the tears threatening to fall from his handsome face.
At the center of the compound, he found her arranging her things carefully into a box, clearly preparing to leave.
The moment she saw him, she merely lifted her head briefly, glanced at him once, then continued with what she was doing without another look.
That action shattered the young man even more, and the tears finally rolled freely down his face.
Slowly, he knelt before her, regret written all over his face.
“Innarmu… please, for the sake of Allah, just—”
Filled with anger, the woman he called Innarmu immediately silenced him by raising her hand.
“I don’t want to hear anything from you. Honestly, if you would just leave me alone, I’d finally breathe peacefully. I’ve realized my mistake, and I will never repeat it again. That’s all.”
Still sobbing heavily with regret, he tried speaking again, but she cut him off once more. This time, even her own voice trembled.
“Didn’t I say I don’t want to hear anything? Leave me alone. That would make me happier. But if you still want to continue reminding me of my place, then go ahead!”
She dropped those words angrily before turning toward her room — a room so poor and empty that anyone could immediately see the hardship in it.
The young man himself, weak and broken, dragged his exhausted body into their room before collapsing onto a thin worn-out mattress.
Then he burst into a painful cry rising straight from the depths of his heart — the kind of cry that instantly revealed unbearable regret.
Suddenly, he stood up and began banging his head repeatedly against the wall while crying.
“I regret it! I hate myself! I regret everything! Innarmu, wallahi if you don’t forgive me, I’ll be destroyed—”
His younger brother, who had been inside the bathroom, rushed out quickly and covered his mouth while holding him tightly.
Even the younger brother was crying.
“Haba Yaya, stop saying things like that! And stop hurting yourself! Look at the injuries you’re causing yourself. Come on Big Bro, just because your heart is broken doesn’t mean you should lose your senses.”
The older brother looked at him tearfully.
“Abubakar, let me suffer the consequences of what I planted. I treated Innarmu badly… I truly wronged her…”
He couldn’t finish because the crying overwhelmed him again.
Abubakar sighed sadly.
“Yaya, from the beginning I warned you. But now look where everything has led.”
The older brother shook his head bitterly.
“It’s me, Abubakar. I’m the fool who failed to understand—”
“Yaya, enough of these words,” Abubakar interrupted softly.
But Abdul continued painfully:
“I deserve every insult. If there are worse words than these, tell me so I can use them against myself. I kept saying Ikram betrayed me… that she ruined my life…”
Again, Abubakar covered his mouth gently.
“Enough, Yaya. Please. You still have another chance. Come, let’s rebuild our lives and forget about Ikram.”
Abdul stared at him with pain in his eyes.
“How can I forget such a scar? Tell me, Abubakar… how do I erase something like this?”
At that moment, Abubakar genuinely began wondering whether his brother was still mentally stable.
Quietly, he held Abdul’s hand and guided him back onto the mattress.
Then he searched around the room until he found a small cloth and gently placed it against the wound on his brother’s forehead.
Thankfully, the injury wasn’t serious.
Afterward, Abubakar quietly left their room and headed toward where Innarmu usually cooked.
He opened every pot there carefully, but found absolutely nothing inside any of them.
He sighed deeply and clicked his tongue.
Then he returned to the room, picked up a flask, and headed straight to the local tea seller nearby.
As soon as he arrived, he exchanged greetings with Habu the tea seller before handing him the flask.
Habu laughed lightly.
“Honestly, I had already given up hope you’d come today.”
Abubakar smiled and searched for a place to sit on one of the benches nearby.
Several customers sat there already — some drinking tea and bread, others eating eggs and indomie. All of them were unusually quiet, focused only on satisfying their hunger.
As Habu began pouring hot Lipton tea into the flask, he spoke again.
“Seriously though, are you alright? You’re not usually this quiet. Your brother Abdul, I understand… but you? That’s surprising.”
For the first time that night, Abubakar laughed slightly.
“Habu, you really talk too much. So Yaya Abdul is already famous for being quiet now? The reason I came late is because I didn’t have morning classes today. And with this cold weather, leaving the house wasn’t easy either.”
Habu nodded.
“That’s true. Today’s cold is something else.”
As he opened the sugar container to scoop some into the flask, Abubakar quickly stopped him.
“No, don’t add sugar. I don’t want it. Just put two tea bags inside.”
After doing so, Habu handed him the flask and asked teasingly:
“This tea is for your brother Abdul, right?”
Abubakar collected the flask and replied casually:
“Whoever it’s for is none of your business. Have you seen Sa’ido around?”
He slipped his hand into his pocket, brought out some money, and handed it to Habu before turning toward another nearby shop.
Habu burst into laughter behind him.
“You’re not even waiting for your change?”
But Abubakar didn’t bother turning back.
He already knew if he entertained Habu’s endless talking, they could remain there chatting till evening.
Habu simply tucked the remaining change into his pocket because he already understood the routine — whenever Abubakar left change behind, it meant he would return later in the evening or at night for more Lipton tea.