Zaman Tasha Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Encounter at the Motor Park
 
She sat calmly at the edge of the motor park, a large sugarcane in her hand, dressed in a simple Pakistani outfit—white trousers, an orange top, and a plain white hijab. With little makeup but striking natural beauty, she gave the impression of one who didn’t care much for glamour. Her sandals matched her outfit, and her carefree manner set her apart from the bustling crowd of the park.
 
“BIG, are you done yet?” she shouted, chewing her cane.
 
“One more person left!” BIG, her friend, replied. She sighed, still focused on her cane, when suddenly a luxurious car sped past, almost brushing her side. With precision, she hurled her sugarcane at it. The driver screeched to a halt.
 
Out came a tall, plump man—the driver. She confronted him boldly:
 
“You don’t value your work, do you? One day, your stubbornness will bring disaster.”
 
The driver snapped back. “Don’t lecture me! I’ve been driving for ten years. Who are you to teach me?”
 
Without fear, she pointed at the worn-out tyre of his car, warning it could burst anytime. Embarrassed, he tried to dismiss her, but she insisted on being paid back for the cane she had wasted. When he mocked her, she slapped him hard across the face.
 
“The biggest mistake you’ll ever make,” she hissed, “is insulting my father. Do that again, and I’ll show you I’m a true daughter of the streets.”
 
The Arrival of Irfan Khabir
 
As tension rose, the car window slid down. A refined young man stepped out—tall, fair-skinned, dressed in a crisp kaftan with a designer cap. His presence alone commanded attention; his sharp eyes and graceful walk silenced the park.
 
This was Irfan Khabir, a man whose reputation stretched far beyond the city. Even the driver, Bukar, bowed in respect. But Irfan’s voice was sharp:
 
“Bukar, do you lack sense? How dare you follow me into this park and let yourself be slapped by this street girl?”
 
The crowd murmured. The girl, unfazed, shot back: “Your father is not above mine. Insult him again, and I’ll deal with you right here!”
 
Irfan was stunned. No one had ever spoken to him so boldly. Curious and angered, he tried to intimidate her with money, throwing a wad of cash at her. She picked one note, bought another sugarcane, and threw the change in his face.
 
Humiliated before the crowd, Irfan’s pride burned. But before he could react, she struck his car tyre with a sharp metal, deflating it instantly. “This is the price for disrespecting my father,” she declared.
 
Then BIG shouted from afar, “Cara’s! We got the last passenger!” Without a backward glance, she vanished into another flashy car and sped away, leaving Irfan standing there with money on his face and anger in his chest.
 
Cara’s on the Road
 
Driving furiously, Cara’s—known across the park for her fierce temper and unmatched courage—sped toward Jibiya. Her skill behind the wheel shocked onlookers. Even an old woman by the roadside scolded her:
 
“Slow down, girl! You’ll kill someone one day.”
 
Cara’s laughed, stopped, and offered to drop the old woman at her destination. The woman complained bitterly, even accusing Cara’s of breaking her teeth with the rough ride. Cara’s only grinned, flashing her striking white teeth.
 
On the road, they encountered a pair of thugs. One, named Makashi, notorious for his cruelty, tried to intimidate the old woman. His bloodshot eyes and sharp voice filled the air with menace. But Cara’s was unfazed, mocking his threats as she sped away.
 
Her life was a constant battle between survival and defiance. She carried herself like a queen of the streets—respected, feared, and hated in equal measure.
 
Irfan’s Humiliation and Cara’s Legacy
 
Back at the park, Irfan stood frozen, the sting of humiliation heavy on his face. Money clung to his sweaty skin, his white kaftan stained by water splashed from Cara’s tyres. For the first time, the mighty Irfan Khabir had been silenced—not by power, not by wealth, but by the fearless courage of a girl from the motor park.
 
The crowd whispered: “She is no ordinary girl… she is Cara’s, the pride and fury of ZAMAN TASHA.”
 
And so her name spread further, carried by the stories of those who saw her stand against wealth and arrogance. For Cara’s, life at the park was not just survival—it was a battlefield where respect was earned, not bought. Her rule was simple: anyone who insulted her father paid the price.
 
As she disappeared into the horizon, the legend of Cara’s grew stronger, her fiery spirit etched into the heart of the streets.