Wayayyar Mace Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Midnight Return
 
A battered Picanto eased into a neat driveway and parked at around midnight. The car idled for thirty minutes before a striking young woman stepped out. She didn’t seem the least concerned to be arriving at her family home at such an hour. Calmly, she slipped inside and closed the door. No one was in the sitting room; only her little sister and she shared a bedroom.
 
Latifa entered Humaira’s room. Humaira looked at her with sharp annoyance and said, “Anty Latifa, you only come back now?”
 
Latifa shot back angrily, “Yes — now. What of it?”
 
Humaira, stung, continued, “It’s not our honor for men in big cars to pick you up and take you out; you only come back in the middle of the night. All those swirling around you are ruining your life. Nobody will agree to marry you. I swear any woman who follows a man will be destroyed by him. I call it foolishness — if you follow someone you know will never marry you, what are you thinking? He only wants your body…”
 
Latifa flared up. “Enough! Don’t talk as if no one is awake. You’re the one who thinks she’s clever. Close your mouth now before I break it.”
 
Humaira forced a bitter smile. “A truly wise woman is the one who keeps God’s limits; no wisdom surpasses piety. Any woman who advertises her body to men who aren’t her mahrams clearly has no sense. Please, Anty Latifa, fear Allah and stop this life. There’s no gain in it — only downfall and deep regret.”
 
Latifa tossed a long exasperated sigh, stripped off her things and took a bath. She put on sleepwear, lay down and resumed her usual chatting online, nearly spending the whole night logged in. Humaira only shook her head in deep worry and prayed her sister would find the right path.
 
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WAYAYYIYAR MACE — by FATIMA USMAN
 
Morning Confrontation
 
The next morning around eleven, restless from a sleepless night, Latifa rose, prayed Fajr and tried to catch more sleep. She showered, dressed in pink, tied her hair and went to the main sitting room. She found only their father, who had been unwell and had not felt like going out. Without greeting him, Latifa walked past. Her father called to her; she paused, brows knitted, and replied curtly, “Here I am.”
 
He said with sadness and sharpness, “Do you realize the life you have chosen for yourself? What will it bring you — a husband with eyes? When did you return last night?”
 
Latifa stayed silent. He continued, “I know you came back at twelve o’clock last night. What kind of life is this — it hurts the heart. Stop following bad influences that will only bring you regret. If you want marriage, find a husband and be married; that’s far better than wandering about.”
 
His words barely reached Latifa — she was far from ready to change. The conversation was careful and low, so her mother would not overhear and tear into him for scolding their daughter. He felt he had no right to punish his child and yet could not stay silent — the pain of seeing his daughter stray troubled him deeply.
 
Latifa left the room without another word. Humaira, who had been in the kitchen, came with a tray of water. She respectfully handed a cup to their father and said, “Abba, here is the water you asked for.” He blessed her and prayed she would find a good husband and children who would be her comfort. Humaira, full of love and pity for their father, replied, “Ameen.”
 
Their father, a calm man who took life lightly and avoided conflict, now faced the trial of a restless, reckless daughter. He could not imagine being pushed into loud arguments; he preferred peace.
 
Family Fault Lines
 
Alhaji Umar Sani Umar — their father — was a man of great patience. Born in Kano but of Fulani Yola origin, he had returned to Kano for business and modest prosperity. He craved nothing more than peace. Yet fate paired him with a wife who loved bustle and control: Hajiya Karima. She was a wealthy merchant, shrewd and determined. After inheriting wealth following her father’s death, she held a stronger will; she and her husband were the only two children, and in business she learned from worldly friends that a woman must not be weak or humiliated by her husband. So she became the household’s dominant voice.
 
Between the two daughters, Latifa was the one who most followed her mother’s ways. Hajiya Karima did not worry about her daughter’s moral failings as long as Latifa brought money and attractive men into the house. Costly clothes and luxury were never spared for Latifa — Hajiya Karima cared for status and wealth more than propriety. The father noticed, but he had little power to oppose his wife. He watched his daughters grow under his wife’s influence, and that pained him.
 
Humaira, in contrast, was modest and dutiful — the one who listened and tried to console the father. Hajiya Karima’s forceful personality left little room for the father to assert himself; he could only plead quietly and pray.
 
Domestic Resolution
 
Later, Latifa boldly pushed open her mother’s bedroom door and walked in without greeting. She sat beside her and complained, “Mum, why does Dad always try to control me? He doesn’t see me enjoying life.”
 
Their mother sighed and answered, “I don’t understand why your father acts this way. He has no job except scolding people every day. Let me handle him — I’ll speak to him and stop his nagging.”
 
Latifa, half mocking, asked, “But who between Humaira and I is the Wayayyiyar Mace? Who is the truly wise woman?”
 
Hajiya Karima, caring outwardly but ruthless in practice, said she often worried about Humaira and her lack of worldly savvy; but she made clear she would protect Latifa from criticism. When Latifa suddenly claimed she was hungry, Hajiya Karima snapped awake: “You haven’t had breakfast? Humaira, why didn’t you show Latifa her food?”
 
Humaira explained gently that Latifa hadn’t asked. Their father, from his seat on the three-seater, tried to intervene but Hajiya Karima shut him down, scolding anyone who dared to critique Latifa’s comfort. She then turned to Latifa with an indulgent tone, “Come — dine with me so hunger doesn’t make you ill,” and led her to the dining room.
 
The family’s daily life continued under the tension of these opposing influences: a patient father who feared contention, a domineering mother who favored worldly advantage, a dutiful sister who cared for the household, and Latifa — beautiful, bold, and reckless in ways that kept the house spinning toward crisis.
 
Follow the next page to learn the rest of their story. More comments — more typing.