Zuciya Da Kuna Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Paris night was bitterly cold on that Monday, with a piercing wind blowing across the Boulevard Périphérique, one of the city's most congested thoroughfares. The sky had turned a dull grey, with clouds completely blotting out the sunlight, as cars sped past one another in the usual rush of fast-paced city life.
But on this morning... everything changed. A horrific accident occurred in the middle of the highway when three cars violently collided with one another, causing people to stop dead in their tracks. The screeching of brakes, shattering of glass, and screams echoed all at once, throwing everyone present into a state of panic. Within seconds, a crowd began to gather. Some were calling for help, while others tried to rescue those trapped inside the vehicles. Blood stained the asphalt, and chaos filled the air as the blaring siren of an approaching ambulance drew closer from the distance. Without losing a moment, the victims of the crash were pulled out, hastily laid down, and rushed to the Hôpital Européen Georges-Pompidou, one of the major hospitals in Paris.
It was there that the struggle to save their lives began. Doctors and nurses immediately leaped into emergency action, each doing everything they possibly could. But...
destiny had already passed its judgment.
After some time, a female doctor walked out, looking at the waiting crowd. In a calm but heavy voice, she announced, "They didn't make it..." The words fell like a heavy stone. No one survived... except for a single baby boy. He was also injured, with a severe wound to his hand, but he was breathing. Instantly, they began checking their phones, searching for a close relative to notify.
On the other side of Paris, in the upscale and quiet neighborhood of Neuilly-sur-Seine, silence enveloped a spacious bedroom within a luxurious mansion. The soft glow from a bedside lamp gave the room a warm, serene comfort. On the lavish bed, Haroon Kareem lay peacefully, locked in a deep sleep, looking like someone without a single care in the world. On the nightstand, his phone kept ringing... once... twice... three times... until it had rung more than twenty times.
Near him, Fatima was sitting on her prayer mat. She had finished her prayers, but her eyes could not break away from the phone that kept illuminating the dim room.
Slowly, she stood up. She walked over to the bed and gently nudged him. "Haroon... your phone has been ringing since."
He stirred slowly, opening his eyes. Wearily, he reached out, picked up his glasses from the nightstand, and put them on. A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Subhanallah... Fatima, you’re still awake?"
She smiled faintly, but behind that smile lay hidden pain. She wiped away the small tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. Haroon noticed.
Compassionately, he stroked her head. "Fatima... stop worrying yourself. Having children is entirely up to Allah's will. We have prayed, and we have done our best... if it hasn't happened yet, then that is what is best for us." He paused briefly.
"Please..." Her weeping grew a bit louder.
"Alright... I'll stop, Habibi..."
He picked up his phone. His eyes fell upon the screen—it was Umar. The call had come through numerous times. In a sudden panic, he bolted upright.
Without wasting any time, he called back.
Someone answered on the other end. "Sir... we need you here at the hospital." The words echoed in his ears. Before he knew it, he grabbed his car keys. Fatima followed him in a state of panic. They rushed out of the house in a frantic hurry. "Security..." A key was quickly handed to him. He got into the car. Without losing a second, they sped off in pure panic, the car tearing through the streets of Paris at high speed. When they arrived at the hospital... the entryway was packed with people. Chaos, crying, and absolute terror filled the air.