Ta Fita Zakka Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She first peeped through the gate, wanting to see whether anyone was in the front yard, though she knew she was not likely to find anybody. It was Friday, and at exactly this time all the males, both young and old, would be at the mosque where Baba Mallam used to teach them the evening lesson. As for the women, each of them would be inside the house. On days like Thursday and Friday, they usually had the chance to help their parents, because on school days they hardly had any time. Once they returned from Western school, they would only eat, pray, and hurry off to Islamiyya school. And when they came back, it would already be nightfall. Then came Maghrib prayer, followed by sitting down to study between Maghrib and Isha. After the Isha prayer, everyone would do their school assignments, or wash their school uniforms, iron clothes, and do other chores. By ten at night, everyone would already be looking for a place to sleep, so they would not be late for the dawn prayer and preparations for school. Nobody was called twice to wake up; if they were called a second time, it would be with a beating. That was a strict rule for anyone who knew even one of the household laws of BABA MALLAM and BABA SA’IDU.
She pulled her thoughts back and looked around their neighborhood. It was quiet, with no real noise. The children were all at home, while the adults were away at work. From where she stood, she could see the entrance of a mosque. Her face tightened when she saw shoes scattered all over the entrance of the magnificent mosque that looked like paradise on earth.
Of course, she had already known there would definitely be an evening lesson today. That was why she refused to pass in front of the mosque and instead took a different route. Even though it was farther, she preferred the long way to meeting the troublesome boys inside that mosque today and having them torment her the way they always did.
She let out a small hiss and adjusted the black school bag hanging on her back, which she held with one hand while the other hung free.
She was a young girl who, by appearance, could not have been less than fifteen years old. She was tall, slim, dark-skinned, with big eyes and a long face. At first glance, the way she moved her mouth would make you know she was talkative and sharp-tongued. She was dressed in her school uniform: brown trousers, a white shirt, a white hijab, and a white scarf. On her feet were female-style canvas school shoes with socks.
At first glance, anyone looking at her would notice how exhausted she was. From the way her face had darkened, to how dry her lips were, and the way she stood at the small brown gate of their house, you could tell she was hesitating about entering the house, or perhaps afraid she would meet someone she did not want to see inside.
She clicked her tongue and muttered aloud, as though arguing with herself,
“It’s not that I’m afraid to enter the house… I, AMINA, Amina, afraid of whose father? It’s just the noise and commotion I don’t want. Most of all, I don’t want my elder sister to come out and see me. She’s the only one I avoid because of her nagging!”
She said this while scratching her neck, wondering in her heart whether she should go to HANNE’s house instead.
Quickly, she said, “No, I won’t even go there… because of that nosy elder sister Abida who watches everything!”
She said this while looking at a large gate directly opposite their house, not far away, whose building shared the same wall as the magnificent mosque. When I lifted my head, I saw a sign painted on it in an appealing color, with Arabic writing that inspired admiration:
SHEIK YUNUS ABDURRAHMAN BAZANGA MOSQUE
And strangely enough, from the house where she stood to the one she was looking at beside the mosque, all of them were built in one straight line, side by side, sharing the same paint and the same style. Even the gates and doors looked alike, as if all the houses belonged to one person. There was nothing that distinguished them except that the one attached to the mosque was bigger and more beautifully decorated, unlike the one where Amina stood, which was smaller and did not have as many luxuries in its structure. But apart from that, everything else was exactly the same; there was nothing different about them.
After thinking it over and seeing she had no other choice, she resigned herself and slipped into the house. And that was exactly what happened. Gathering her courage, she pushed the gate open and entered the compound. Instead of seeing the other house directly, I realized that from the inside a wall separated the two compounds.
There was only one car in the front yard, a Sienna. It was the vehicle used to take them to school whenever the bigger Marcopolo bus was not working or something had happened to it. In any case, ABA hardly parked his own car here. Most of the time he preferred to leave it in front of Baba Mallam’s house, because whenever he came around, he usually stopped there first before coming here. Even YAYA JA’AFAR hardly parked his car here. They were used to handling almost everything in Baba Mallam’s section, which had become for them like a wall of support and a source of blessing.