Yar Gidan Tsohowa Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

A Secret Entrance and an Unexpected Encounter
 
Quietly and sneakily, she slipped into their compound’s corridor, playing hide-and-seek with her friends.
Suddenly she peeked around and gasped, tasting blood in her mouth from the shock, walking gently so that not even the sound of her footsteps could be heard.
 
Just as she was about to enter the house, she bumped into something right in front of her.
She froze instantly.
She moved to one side, pouting, because the corridor was dark.
 
She thought it was Grandfather, the troublesome old man Kwaishi.
She began mumbling softly, “Kai, this old man is full of wahala. How can you step on my feet? And when someone says you’re close to death, you’ll hold your head and say you’re not dying anytime soon.”
 
No response. Silence.
 
She hissed loudly and twisted her mouth, continuing to walk forward.
As she was about to enter inside, she stepped on someone’s foot again.
 
Her body began trembling, warm urine dripping into her clothes because of the hot slap that landed on her face.
 
She screamed loudly and fell to the ground, rolling.
“Wayyo my eyes! I’m finished! Grandmother come and save me!”
 
Mahmud, who was standing there full of annoyance, said,
“What kind of girl are you that doesn’t look where she is going? Since you entered this corridor I’ve been trying to avoid you, yet you still stepped on my foot.
 
So you thought it was Grandfather and that’s why you were talking carelessly?
Well, it’s not him — it’s me you stepped on, you foolish girl with no sense who doesn’t look forward or backward.
Today I will teach you manners before I leave this house.”
 
Grandmother, who had just finished praying, heard Dije’s cry in the corridor.
She quickly stood up and came out asking, “Dijama, which wicked person beat you?”
 
Immediately Dijama heard her grandmother’s voice, she opened her mouth wide, placed one hand over her eye and cried,
“Wayyo my eye! Grandmother, my eye has come out!”
 
Mahmud stood staring at her in disbelief — the girl wanted to accuse him right in front of him.
 
Dijama stood up still covering her eye, jumping, tripping, falling, until she got close to Mahmud and stepped on his foot again — hard — before running to her grandmother.
 
She cried, “Wayyo my eye, grandmother help me! Brother Mahmud has removed my eye!”
 
Grandmother shouted, “Good! Your wish has come true, Mamuda — you have removed one of her eyes!
Now pour water on the ground and drink it!
I don’t know the hatred you have for Dijama. You never want to see her happy inside or outside.
Now that you have blinded her, pack your things and go back to your home. Thank you for your visit — may Allah reward you.”
 
Mahmud turned to leave but hearing the nonsense Dijama was saying, he returned and stayed.
He said, “Grandmother, stop supporting this girl. She doesn’t listen, and she has no shame. Since I arrived in this town everyday someone brings her complaint to you, yet you always defend her.”
 
She snapped, “So because she annoys you, you removed one of her eyes?”
She pulled Dijama close, who stood like she wanted to merge into her grandmother, clutching one eye.
 
Grandmother gently removed Dijama’s hand from her eye and said, “Let me see this eye. If it’s serious, we’re going to the hospital. I will call his father anywhere he is to take us.”
 
Seeing nothing was wrong with her eye, grandmother turned and glared at Mahmud.
“So your wish hasn’t come true yet — you didn’t blind her.”
 
She held Dijama’s hand.
“Let’s go, Dijama. Drink water, find a place to lie down and leave that wicked boy alone.”
 
Dijama looked at Mahmud, seized the moment while grandmother wasn’t watching, and made faces at him — sticking out her tongue and twisting her mouth.
 
Mahmud pointed at her:
“I will catch you.”
 
He didn’t move.
Then someone entered with a young boy holding a bucket of ground millet soaked in dirt — he had spilled it.
 
The woman said,
“Where is grandmother? Come out! Today I swear I will not bear any loss. Every time I send my son to the grinding place, this Dijama will attack him and beat him and finally pour away my millet. Today, I won’t tolerate it! She must pay!”
 
Mahmud looked at the woman and said, “Raise your voice well. They’re inside. They’ll come.”
 
Grandmother came out with Dijama following.
She asked, “Abu Mai Waina, what are you saying again? What did Dijama do now?”
 
The woman repeated her complaint.
Grandmother too began shouting,
“No! Dijama didn’t do this!
People in this town watch her too closely. She’s the girl I sent to buy sugar. How could she have passed near your house?”
 
“What kind of useless boy do you have that he can’t talk back? Dijama beat him and poured the millet? Please leave this house immediately. I won’t tolerate nonsense.”
 
The woman exploded,
“So I should suffer losses and no one will apologize? Today no matter what happens, I must be paid back!”
 
Mahmud, tired of the endless quarrel, angrily pulled out five hundred naira and handed it to the woman with an apology.
She smiled immediately, collected it, and said gently,
“These children don’t listen. But Dijama needs to be cautioned; she has stopped the children of this town from enjoying themselves. Everyone fears her when she comes out.”
 
No one responded except Dijama who snapped,
“Just go and give people space. You’ve been paid. Stop disturbing us.”
 
She glared at the boy and said,
“You — Sale — if I catch you again, I’ll break one of your legs.”
 
Hearing this, the woman knew Dijama meant it, so Mahmud pleaded with her until she left.
 
Mahmud then angrily moved toward Dijama to beat her, but grandmother pushed the girl inside shouting,
“Don’t you dare beat her! What’s your business? If you hit her, I swear I’ll fight you in this house!”
 
Mahmud stepped back, pointing at Dijama:
“I’ll catch you. I must take back my five hundred naira from your body. I won’t waste money for nothing.”
 
Hearing grandmother’s scolding, he stormed out of the house.
 
Evening Glamour and the Queen of the Dandali
 
After the night prayer, as usual, every girl dressed up and headed to the village square (dandali).
Dijama too dressed beautifully, wearing an atamfa — matching top and wrapper with a different head tie — her face painted.
She was naturally beautiful, a Fulani girl whose Hausa accent wasn’t very deep.
She tied a shawl around her waist.
 
She ran out of the house singing loudly.
Her friends, hearing her song, rushed from their houses to meet her.
They shouted joyfully, “Here comes the granddaughter of grandmother!”
They surrounded her happily and followed her to the village square.
 
Dijama led the group — followed by her friends Suwaiba, Lantana, Ladidi, and Luba behind her.
She was the “boss” — anyone who tried talking nonsense, they defended her.
 
They settled near a fish seller.
 
When he saw them, he adjusted the lantern, looked closely, and sighed deeply:
“So today I won’t make any sales. These troublesome girls have come.”
 
Dijama widened her eyes and frowned fiercely:
“What is it? Why are you flashing the lantern in our eyes?”
 
The fish seller’s heart almost dropped. He knew she could scatter his fish and cause loss.
He forced a smile and said,
“Sorry, granddaughter of grandmother — I didn’t know it was you.”
 
He packed some fish into a nylon bag and gave her.
“Here, have some fish.”
 
She looked at it and frowned,
“Ya’u, keep your fish. I’m not in the mood for fish today.”
 
Her friends swallowed hard — all afraid of her.
 
Ya’u quietly packed his tray and moved far away.
 
Dijama didn’t notice.
Her attention was on a boy chatting with a girl — clearly a stranger in town.
 
She laughed, shaking her head, watching the boy behaving like a “big boy” adjusting his handkerchief and frowning proudly.
 
She pointed him out to her friends, and they burst into laughter.
 
Dijama said,
“Lantana, go and bring me that rubber snake your brother bought for you from Benin.”
 
Lantana ran home, brought it, and handed it to her.
 
“Good. Now come here — let me tell you what we’re going to do to that big boy.”
They bent their heads together, nodding as she explained the plan.