Yar Aikin Karuwai Part 2 Complete Hausa Novel

The Journey Toward Makkah
 
When the vehicle stopped after passing the Gamboru Gala area in Maiduguri, they had already gone far, driving through dangerous villages. Rufaida was the first to climb down from the truck—just by seeing the type of truck and its tyres, anyone would know they were crossing the Sahara. The truck was wide open at the top like a cave for hyenas, but very large. When it rained, they only covered themselves with tarpaulin, and under the scorching sun they endured the heat.
 
She said, “Grandfather, come down too before the heat kills you. Whether by wood or by sack of scorpions, we must reach Makkah, InshaAllah—no turning back!”
The passengers came out with their small food and water provisions and started taking sips. Rufaida’s grandfather stood aside, exhausted from the sun, and said, “Jikalle, bring us water so we can wet our throats.”
Rufaida pouted and said, “You want to finish our provisions already? We don’t even know when this truck will depart again.”
 
A young man who had been staring at Rufaida shamelessly said, “For the sake of Allah, give the old man water. What kind of wicked person are you?”
Cele said, “Respect yourself. We are on the way to Makkah; I won’t say anything.”
The young man widened his eyes angrily, “So today you want to insult me?”
Grandfather responded, “Mind your business! What concerns you?”
The boy continued, “You people should watch. She can cause your death.”
Grandfather said, “That’s my granddaughter, you useless boy!”
 
Suddenly the truck engine roared to life.
Rufaida screamed with joy, jumped in, and pulled her grandfather up with difficulty. After settling, she gave him water to drink, then drank some herself. They continued the journey, eating chin-chin and meat pie. If anyone stared too long, she stuck out her tongue playfully as if to say the food was too delicious for others to taste. After eating, she brought out fresh dates.
 
They traveled until deep into the night and reached a village but were told by the agent at the front of the truck that they must not stop—“This village is dangerous. Pray and let’s continue.”
Rufaida began reciting tasbih, asking Allah to take them safely to Makkah—even if inside a sack of pepper.
 
The Flood, the Mountain, and the Long Struggle
 
As they continued, they saw piles of corpses by the roadside. Cele panicked—she had never seen such a sight. They drove until nightfall and reached another village where it rained excessively. They could not stop there because water would swallow the truck; even the villagers lived on mountain tops.
 
They rushed to escape before the flood intensified. Many jumped down, some managing to carry their provisions while others couldn’t. A woman with a three-month-old baby struggled until the agent carried the baby. Cele’s grandfather fell; Cele lifted him and continued running. Thankfully she wore a shirt and trousers. After running a long distance, they reached a mountain top for shelter.
 
Then they remembered there was an elderly woman left in the truck. After the rain calmed, the driver and some men went back. They found the woman—only her head above the water. They smartly rescued her and returned.
 
They stayed two days on the mountain, freezing and exhausted, until the water dried. The men changed clothes using waterproof bags. The women hid behind rocks to change. When Cele tried to change, some boys peeked at her. She raised her shirt and locked eyes with Mustapha. She said, “May your mother show you! Mustapha, vulture-eyed idiot!” He quickly ran away.
 
They continued. Sadly, the old woman they rescued died. Locals helped with shrouding and burial. They struggled to pull the truck out of the mud and eventually continued the journey. Cele shouted with excitement, “Makkah—even if by wooden leg!”
Her grandfather complained he wanted to go home, but she insisted, “No retreat, no surrender! We must reach there and make money!”
Abdul joked, “InshaAllah, once I reach, I’ll drink tea until my voice becomes smooth!” They all laughed as the journey continued, stopping only for prayers.
 
Wise, Papa, and the Family Conflict
 
Wise was cooking when Papa entered quietly, watching her with a wide smile. She was still upset and ignored him. He hugged her from behind and whispered sweet praises into her ear:
“My game changer… my play maker… the hero in my book… my best goal assist… may Allah keep you for me. I made mistakes; forgive me and pray Allah forgives me. I love you, my wife.”
 
His words melted Wise’s heart. She turned to him and said she too was guilty for lying and entering his life incorrectly. She tried to confess more, but he silenced her gently.
“I don’t need to hear anything. I already know everything. I know you deceived me when you came, but I forgave you and married you anyway. I never want to hear the word prostitution again. The matter is over. May Allah forgive us.”
 
Wise thanked him with tears in her eyes. He teased her, “Why the tears?” She leaned on his chest, full of regret. He told her to finish cooking because he was starving.
 
After he left, she called Miracle and told her she felt shy—something she never thought possible. They laughed. She tried calling Star, who was busy with Malam. She called Seraline instead. After chatting, Wise hung up and said she needed to rest with her “old man.”
 
Her mother-in-law, Iyamami, who had just returned home after recovery, wandered into Wise’s section. Loud music was playing as Wise danced happily for Papa. Iyamami entered without knocking. Papa frowned at her lack of courtesy. Wise didn’t notice until Papa pointed her out. She was annoyed that the old woman kept barging in.
 
Iyamami insulted Wise harshly—calling her a prostitute, shameless, and disrespectful for sitting on Papa’s lap. She also scolded Papa for allowing it. Wise responded calmly:
 
“This is our generation, not yours. And I didn’t see you enter. You shouldn’t walk into children’s rooms unannounced. If we were unclothed, would that be proper? I wouldn’t even want to see where your son moves about. His body is mine alone to see.”
 
Iyamami screamed in anger, calling curses and saying Wise would never control her son. Papa begged her to respect herself. She burst into tears yelling, “You two want to kill me! This marriage has no blessing; divorce her!”
 
Wise looked at Papa, who sighed deeply—troubled.