Uwa Uwa Ce Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

Harira pressed the fabric of the wrapper from side to side and peeked around. Her head came forward, but it seemed the path was slightly narrow for her. Her new companion, Rezar, picked her up and told Inna Mairo to come closer to the torch and shine it well for her. The candlelight that had been lit wasn’t bright enough for her to see what needed to be done.
Mari’s pain didn’t let her see what was about to be done to her. Harira placed the torch on her abdomen while Inna Mairo held Mari’s hands. Rezar increased the flame slightly and moved it around every part of her stomach. You could feel a “kit-kit” sound as Mari’s left and right sides were pressed. Words cannot describe it. People often say mothers don’t feel anything during childbirth because of the pain, but Mari felt everything.
When she opened her mouth to scream, a sharp hiss came out. With the little energy she had left, she bit her lips and endured it. Hamdala, Harira encouraged her and strengthened her courage, urging her to push again because the baby was moving forward. She strained and then suddenly heard the cry of a newborn for the first time in the world. At once, she forgot that excruciating pain and only wanted to see what she had given birth to.
“Congratulations, Mari. Well done. May Allah give him life and grant you the health to nurse him,” Inna Mairo said, wiping the sweat from her face.
Shyness covered her as she remembered that if it weren’t for the baby’s arrival, she would have prepared a message for her husband, Inusa.
Harira wrapped the baby in a cloth and handed him to Inna Mairo. As soon as she stretched her hand to receive him, he made a small movement. Mari’s face, which had lifted to steal a glance at her child, smiled when she saw Mari turn her head aside.
“I was about to complain about my hand hurting, but I didn’t. Take him and feel the warmth of each other before I come back.”
Mari covered her face with her hand, her smile hard to hide. Slowly, she forgave Inna Mairo for holding the baby, which seemed to cause her some pain. She smiled again and then got up to prepare the bathing water while massaging the hand that felt heavy. She pitied her daughter-in-law because she had become an orphan in her family. That’s why she didn’t allow anyone else to bathe her daughter-in-law when her aunt insisted.
Harira also left, leaving Mari with her newborn. Only when she was sure no one was around did Mari bring the baby close to her chest and hug him. Her hand trembled as she opened his face to look properly. Tears filled her eyes immediately at the sudden love that overwhelmed her. She felt she could never love anyone else like this, except if she gave birth again in the future. The thought alone made her body shiver as she remembered the situation from a few minutes ago. She prayed for him, seeking protection, blessings, and a good life. Before anyone else entered the room, she had already kissed his life until marriage. Her wish was for him to grow up righteous and exemplary. He should gain deep knowledge, the kind she saw in the city during her service before marriage. If possible, he should become a great doctor or lawyer.
“I will come to continue saving money to buy everything you’ll need at school,” she told him, as if he understood. She then realized all the women in the house had now learned of her delivery. Soon, the room would be filled, even though it was still early morning, with the wives of her husband’s siblings and other unmarried sisters. She quickly set the baby down so he wouldn’t be seen in her arms and spoke softly, smiling with immense joy.
“By Allah’s will, you’ll be fluent in Arabic and English. You’ll grow and achieve degrees like the child of Hajia that I served.”
The sun began to rise, and the bathwater was warm. Inusa’s sister, the aunt, accompanied her to the back of the house to bathe her. Meanwhile, due to Inna Mairo holding him, the baby seemed soothed, and Inusa’s sister bathed him. She rejoiced at the relief from childbirth pain, realizing there was joy ahead. Hot water was poured over her stomach. She clenched herself and screamed, feeling the press and push on her abdomen and back. After the bath, they gave her another herbal bundle wrapped in cotton. Seeing the bundle, which resembled lalle (traditional medicine), she grimaced.
“What should I do with this, Gwaggo?”
Mari would not have cared if she wasn’t serious, but she took it and applied it herself. The lalle was mixed with thick powder and medicine. Mari only sweated from the pain. After applying it, the area was covered with cotton, and then she was given a cloth to wrap around herself.
Together, they left, Mari walking slowly to her room. That’s how she was instructed to breastfeed her baby. The herbal treatment continued for six days until she could no longer find more. The pain had completely healed (please, no one try this).
On that day, the baby was named after his grandfather, Auwalu, and given the nickname Abbati.
DALA, KANO
1985
The crying had overwhelmed him. If he stayed in the room for another five minutes, he was certain he would lose his mind. He didn’t want Innayo to handle cooking during her confinement. Yesterday had been the same, with her newborn Hasiya crying nonstop. Angrily, he lifted his foot, noticing she was exhausted and asleep. Since Hasiya’s voice wasn’t strong, she didn’t notice the crying that had lasted for several minutes.
“Malama, go and take your daughter,” he said.
The slap hit her, but the crying she heard relieved the sting. She quickly reached out and touched her daughter in the moonlit glow from the room window. Comforting her, she started breastfeeding the baby. Hearing the child’s sighs made her anxious. Cold medicine had made her drowsy, along with the fatigue from her work.
“Child of Allah, you’ve been crying so long it seems I didn’t hear you. Sorry,” she said, caressing her head.
“Mtsew,” Alhaji Rabi’u clicked his tongue.
In the dark room, he got up and searched for his pants, putting his hand in the pocket. The rustling sound caught Innayo’s attention. She looked toward where he was standing.
“Alhaji, if you need anything, let me turn on the lamp for you. In this darkness, you can’t see…”
She didn’t reach him but understood his intention. Though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed he was distracted. He grabbed her hand, dropping coins she didn’t know the amount of.
In a sharp voice, he spoke angrily:
“Here, I bought it, so go and return to your room.”