Unaisa Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

She let out an exclamation of distress and handed me my veil while holding my hand, but as I stood up, my breath began to hitch and I was struggling to pull air into my lungs; I knew that I was definitely having an attack. Inna lillahi! Seeing this threw her into even greater confusion. I reached for my inhaler, which was sitting right where I had picked up my phone—since morning, I had felt the warning signs of an attack coming on, which was why I had brought it out and set it there. I took a puff from the inhaler and felt it ease up slightly. By that time, my face was entirely soaked with tears, and my hands were drenched in nothing but sweat. She locked up the house, sat me down, and went to fetch her car keys. Seeing that she was taking too long to return, I stood up and started walking. I didn't even know where I was stepping; my only hope was to find myself in the emergency unit at the General Hospital.

"Aunty, you're walking too fast!"

I heard Ammar's voice calling out to me, and only then did I realize my hand was in his. I had walked a long distance when I heard a car pull up beside me. It was Aunty Aisha; she got out, put me in the passenger seat, and drove off, telling me to keep reciting, "Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un!" I kept repeating it over and over until we reached the hospital. Oh Lord! I had never experienced a journey that felt so endlessly long; I had never felt my feet tremble like that until that day. In less than fifteen minutes, I was completely overwhelmed and beside myself, looking nothing like a bride who had been in her husband's house for only three days. Everything about me had changed in an instant.

As soon as she parked, we got out and I headed toward the unit's entrance. My heart was pounding relentlessly, feeling as though it were about to burst right out of my chest. I stood in silence, watching the chaotic bustle—people rushing back and forth, patients sitting on benches groaning in pain, and nurses moving quickly to tend to them. I stood rooted to the spot, the surrounding sounds fading into a distant blur.

"Please, the accident victim that was brought in just now? Could we see him?"

Aunty Aisha interrupted a male nurse who was sitting at the station clerking a patient. He looked over at an officer who was filling out something in a logbook and said:

"Officer, I think the victim's family has arrived."

I quickly looked at them and said:

"Where is he? How is he? Tell me he's okay, please!"

I pleaded, my voice trembling as I clasped my hands together in desperate entreaty, tears streaming down one after another. Aunty Aisha took my hand, and we followed them into the casualty ward. Just seeing the chaotic rush inside made my legs go weak—being part of a family in the medical field, I knew what it meant when a suction machine and oxygen were being pulled over. It meant he was in critical condition!

Like a zombie, I kept dragging my feet until we stepped inside. He was lying on an examination couch, an infusion running into his hand through a cannula, an oxygen mask over his nose, and they were actively suctioning his airways. A wave of dizziness rushed over me, threatening to knock me to the ground. His entire appearance had transformed—the white shadda he was wearing was soaked through with blood, confirming to me that he had bled profusely. His leg was packed and bandaged, yet blood was still seeping through the wrapping, and his face was severely bruised.

I approached, feeling an indescribable, horrific agony consuming me completely. Oh God of all the worlds! I walked up to him, tears falling incessantly, and grabbed his hand—only then did I realize he was receiving a blood transfusion, which I hadn't even noticed before. I broke down crying, saying—