Taimiyyah Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Scene and Characters
 
A young woman lay curled up under the blanket, her body trembling — a clear sign of fever that made her shiver attractively. Beside her sat an elderly woman whose age was already advanced — at least sixty-five years or more. Her face was deeply lined with wrinkles on both sides, yet she was beautiful at a glance and you might think at first she was not Hausa. But she was: a Hausa woman named Iya, blessed by God with good looks and fair skin. With one hand she pulled the blanket away from the young woman, and in a voice full of concern she said, “Get up, TAIMIYYAH. Try to bathe — are you going to keep shivering like this? If you break down now we’ll call Sani and go back to the hospital. These medicines alone may not be enough; they might need injections, and those are unpleasant.”
 
She finished speaking and slowly folded back the blanket that had covered the young woman. The beautiful face of the girl called TAIMIYYAH became visible, and her whole body was wrapped in a very thick ash-coloured nightgown. Her resemblance to the older woman was clear; if she were not her daughter, there would at least be a strong blood tie between them. The elderly woman’s only clear sign toward her was the mature look on her face — yet even TAIMIYYAH’s fair skin was like the older woman’s. TAIMIYYAH tightened her lovely face into a grimace and closed her large eyes again. Her voice, low and with a hint of mischief, said, “Whew! By God, you can’t hear me. It feels like something’s taking me away.”
 
Iya looked at her with pity and care and said, “Take it easy, be patient — it will pass. Now get up and go into the bath; I’ll prepare very warm water that you’ll enjoy. May God give you health, my Taimi.”
 
TAIMIYYAH answered, “Ameen.” She stood up with difficulty; only then did Iya notice that her height was average, not too tall, and she had no excess fat — only a toned, naturally attractive body. She closed her eyes again because of the headache. Slowly she lifted her left hand and rubbed the calf of her left leg as she began to walk toward the toilet attached to the room. Iya followed her with a look; her love and pity for the young woman went deep into her bones. She pitied TAIMIYYAH so much that she did not show the slightest annoyance about the wound she had on her foot, for Iya alone always wanted to see her alive — it was God’s will that she survive.
 
A short while later Iya returned to the room holding a mug filled with hot millet porridge (kunun gyada) mixed with a little milk, because she knew TAIMIYYAH loved it. Exactly when TAIMIYYAH came out of the toilet, wrapped in a large towel that reached down to her calves, water streaming over her body — which made it clear God had granted her beautiful, smooth skin — she looked at Iya and smiled. Slowly she rubbed her left foot as she walked into the room; the bath seemed to have made her feel better. Iya lifted her head and said, “Are you feeling better? Here is your porridge — tie it and eat it before Ladi finishes frying the potatoes for you.”
 
Care, Conversation, and Preparations
 
TAIMIYYAH opened her bright large eyes and looked at Iya. In a gentle, pleasant voice she said, “I feel better, Iya. Thank you for your care. But I think just the porridge will be enough for the potatoes for now. Later, please—make sure the throat bitter mixture you prepare for me is the same as the one you always make; that’s the only thing I want to take.” She finished speaking with a playful tone in her voice.
 
Hajiya Iya smiled and said, “Alright, no problem — God willing, it will be done. Now drink the porridge and take your medicine; then we’ll call Sani to go back to the hospital. Take all the medicines with you so they can see them, and open your mouth and speak in front of the doctor. I don’t want this stubbornness of yours. If you’re ill, don’t refuse to tell them.”
 
Iya finished and a small, relieved smile slipped across TAIMIYYAH’s face as she finished applying ointment and tried to put on the gown she had taken out. Without saying anything, Iya left and put on a long atamfa gown in red with large flower patterns in milk and black that suited her and highlighted her skin tone. She had nothing on her face but soft lip balm, and the scent of the body mist she liked filled the whole room; she was a lover of fragrance. She sat and took the mug Iya had set down and began to sip the porridge slowly and calmly, then took her medicines after finishing the porridge. A sudden cold sweat made her get up to increase the speed of the fan running in the room.
 
Standing before the long mirror, she looked at her face which had thinned significantly in just two days since the illness began. Her large white eyes, luminous and attention-catching, were a gift from God. She checked her chest and realized she had forgotten to put on a bra — she could not go out without it because God had blessed her with a full chest, not overly large but full enough that she preferred wearing support. This was new for her since she started wearing bras. She went to where she kept them, unzipped her gown partway and put one on. Her phone, lying on the bed, began to ring; seeing Sani’s name confirmed that he had arrived. She picked up the phone, greeted him, and assured him she was coming out.
 
“Iya, Sani is here — we’re leaving.”
 
TAIMIYYAH said this as she looked at Hajiya Iya seated on one of the chairs in the well-arranged sitting room. Iya lifted her head and lowered her gaze to TAIMIYYAH who was wearing a long red hijab that suited her very well. She smiled and said, “Alright, when you return take care and speak openly to the doctor — I don’t want this stubbornness of yours. Tell Sani when you come back to let him come in; I want to see him.”
 
TAIMIYYAH responded and rose, one hand holding a small handbag that contained the prescribed medicines; the other hand rested on the calf of her left leg — proof that she needed support when walking. In all of her natural features there was no sign of disability except for that injured left foot which had gone numb and lame. She was beautiful and had every attractive feature. She walked out of Hajiya Iya’s sitting room, eyes moving around the corridor as if searching for something, then continued on the path God had laid for her until she left Iya’s part of the house completely. She reached the main corridor of the house, which had two main parts even though Iya’s was the third section. Her heart sank when she saw the woman who came out of one of the parts; the woman was followed by a young man carrying a large plastic bag. TAIMIYYAH quickly bowed her head and kept walking until she arrived where Hajiya Shuwa and her group were coming — this made TAIMIYYAH stop and wait for Hajiya Shuwa, the woman they called Umma, who was her father’s wife and who hated TAIMIYYAH with a deep spite.
 
The Insult, Sadeeq’s Arrival, and the Hospital
 
“When did you get here, Umma?”
 
Those were the words TAIMIYYAH managed to say as Umma approached; but the greeting caused Umma to stop and look TAIMIYYAH up and down with small, hard eyes. Her face showed not a hint of joy. Instead of returning the greeting, Umma said, “By God’s power they’re weak—rumor says you’re unwell. And you — may God not make you fall into temptation — disability and frequent illness will be your lot. Perhaps someday someone will come and take pity, and you’ll be left weak and ill like that. Let our children not be spoiled by the weak and diseased.”
 
She finished with a sigh and glared at the young man carrying the bag, giving him a sign that he should step ahead of her. Without looking at TAIMIYYAH, Umma continued on, and TAIMIYYAH’s heart filled with an indescribable tightness. Tears gathered in her large eyes; the headache she had been feeling returned. She hurriedly rubbed her troubled foot and began walking again. Soon she caught a soft scent of Bentley perfume that reached her nose, and before she could make another move something stopped in front of her. A tall, handsome man with eyes similar to hers fixed his gaze on her; something in his smile hinted at amusement. Then his deep, steady voice reached her ears: “Have patience, Sis, with Umma’s behavior please! One day there will be news — I don’t want to bring you any worry. God created you as He willed; we with her have no power to change what God made of anyone’s face or body.”
 
When he said this, TAIMIYYAH tried to keep the tears from falling. A tiny trembling in her voice betrayed her as she spoke softly, “I feel a little better, Yah Sadeeq. The fever hasn’t gone completely. We will go to see the doctor now. Good morning — I hope we get up well.” She finished, looked at him as she lifted her large eyes to his face, and then lowered her head again because of the way his gaze kept roaming over her. He replied, “Okay! May God increase your health — go quickly since he is waiting for you. I will come to Iya’s place later and we will talk. Take care, Angel.”
 
He finished with a light tone that touched TAIMIYYAH’s heart. She nodded, closed her eyes then opened them, and continued to the parking area where Sani’s car was waiting. He watched her from behind, pity and deep love for her stirring strongly in his heart.
 
When TAIMIYYAH reached Sani’s car she did not immediately get in because she needed to lie down as her head was spinning. Sani, being her driver, did not complain; he had no objection about where she sat. He helped her into the car when she finally mustered the strength to answer him. Her heart still echoed with Umma’s harsh words, which were unlike how she had been raised — only God had shaped her as He willed, not for ridicule — and warm tears rolled down her cheeks which she wiped away to strengthen herself as always. By the time they arrived at ABU Hospital in Zaria her heart felt heavy again. She asked herself how long she would continue to face the scorn and ridicule of some people in her own community for the way God created her body. With great difficulty she gathered the courage to go into the hospital for the doctor’s appointment.