Zumuncin Mu A Yau Part 1 Complete Hausa Novel

The Act of Kindness
 
From inside the room, she heard the voice of the old man, confirming that he was indeed inside.
“Then tell her we are grateful, and go take twenty naira from the window of my room before you leave.”
Gently, she untied the wrapper that held her food, bringing out the fresh tuwo and soup. Removing her scarf, she said, “Thank you, Baffa, may Allah reward you,” then took the twenty naira and left, her heart heavy with sadness.
 
On her way to the gate, she ran into Husna and her companions carrying large bowls, breathing heavily. She stepped aside to let them pass. As they got close, they burst into laughter, shouting,
“Nadiya the plastic girl!”
Badariyya dropped her bowl, ran her hand over Nadiya’s clothes, and said mockingly,
“Wow! This isn’t plastic—it’s real skin.”
They laughed again. “So, Nadiya, this year you’ve upgraded—from plastic Ankara to plastic shadda!”
Nadiya walked away quietly, ignoring their mocking laughter echoing behind her.
 
After about five minutes of walking, she reached the main road to look for a car that would take her home with the twenty naira she had been given. If she had to walk, she would arrive at sunset because of the long distance.
Her mind was filled with thoughts of how family love had changed over time. Since childhood, she had seen her mother suffer similar humiliation just because they were poor. Many times, she wondered if Baffa was truly her father.
 
Mockery, Greed, and Hypocrisy
 
Meanwhile, inside the house, Husna and Badariyya entered without greeting.
Baffa jumped down from the bed, smiling. “Welcome, my daughters, welcome!”
Badariyya threw herself into his arms. “Grandpa, where’s my Sallah gift?”
Excitedly, he dipped into his pocket and counted out ten crisp ₦500 notes for her.
She frowned. “Just ₦5,000? That’s not even enough for pizza!”
Laughing, he replied, “Alright, my dear, I’ll add more.”
He gave her another ₦5,000. Without a word of thanks, she said proudly, “You should have done that earlier.”
 
Husna stepped forward. “And me, Grandpa?”
He gave her ₦10,000 too. He knew his favorite daughter had told him earlier that she would send Musaddiq with some “Sallah gifts,” so he was expecting more money soon.
“Where’s your brother? Didn’t you come together?” he asked.
Badariyya said, “We saw him at the gate. He left before us—before even Nadiya.”
Baffa frowned. “He didn’t come in at all.”
Goggo interrupted, covering a bowl. “Maybe he forgot something.”
Baffa shrugged. “Perhaps.” He dropped the issue, and they continued eating and chatting, completely forgetting the food Nadiya had brought—because they knew it contained nothing special.
 
At home, Nadiya’s mother sat anxiously, waiting for her daughter’s return. She hoped she’d bring at least ₦500 as her share of Baffa’s Sallah money.
Her little daughter, Zainab, stood up holding an empty plate. “Mama, I want more food.”
Pulling her close, the mother said gently, “Be patient, my dear. Your sister will soon come home. You’ll even have milk later, okay?”
Zainab nodded, smiling and staring at the door, waiting for her sister.
 
When Nadiya arrived, exhausted, she sat down catching her breath.
Zainab ran to bring her water. “Did you eat?” Nadiya asked softly.
“Yes, but I’m still hungry. Mama said you’ll bring money to buy milk.”
Nadiya looked at her mother with weary red eyes. They exchanged a sad glance. Then she whispered, “Mama, I took the food there. Baffa gave me ₦20. Let’s thank him—at least it helped me pay for transport.”
Forcing a smile, Mama said, “Ah, that’s wonderful! May Allah reward him with paradise. Go and pray, my daughter.”
 
Just then, they heard a greeting from outside. It was Musaddiq.
Mama stood up excitedly. “Welcome, Musaddiq! You just arrived?”
“Yes, Mama,” he replied shyly.
“Sit, please,” she said, spreading a mat.
 
After exchanging greetings, Musaddiq pulled out about ₦200,000.
“Here, Mama,” he said. “Mummy said I should bring this to you.”
Before she could speak, he placed the money down and quickly left—afraid that if he stayed, they might find out what he’d done.
 
Mama stared at the money, too shocked to touch it.
“Could Musaddiq have heard the instructions correctly?” she whispered. “This is too much. Our gift never exceeds ₦5,000.”
 
The Awakening of Family Bonds
 
“Mama, please give me the phone,” she said to Nadiya, pointing at it.
Her hands trembled as she searched for her sister’s number. It rang several times before her elder sister finally answered with a proud, cold voice.
Mama stuttered nervously, “Good afternoon, Hajiya.”
A faint “Fine” came from the other end. Mama continued, “Musaddiq just brought the money, so I wanted to—”
Her sister cut her off sharply: “I know, Suwaiba. I’m busy. No need for thanks—it’s nothing,” and hung up.
 
Mama put the phone down slowly, staring at the money, her heart suddenly calm. For the first time, she realized her sister was beginning to understand the true value of kinship.
 
Outside, Musaddiq got into his car, switched off his phones, and drove off, deep in thought.
He was determined to make his mother and grandparents realize that family ties should not depend on wealth.
He felt great sorrow over how poor relatives like Mama Suwaiba and her children were despised simply because they had no money.
All he ever wanted was to see unity among their family—where the rich helped the poor sincerely, not for pride or reputation.
But in today’s world, that unity was fading away…