Kanwar Maza 1&2 Complete Hausa Novel

It was a modest house, located in a cluster of homes along a small street. At a glance, you could tell these were the houses of people with limited means: the walls were made of mud, some were tied with ropes, there were no proper drainage systems, no paved roads, and everyone’s house faced the street. Likewise, everyone displayed their homes however they pleased—some were well-maintained, others neglected, and some small houses seemed almost to be stacked on top of one another.

“Why haven’t you gone to do the errand yet? Must the fire burn out before you move?” said an older young woman, sitting in front of a small wooden stool, holding a pestle and stirring, with a silver plate nearby containing cornmeal.

A girl came out from a room behind the woman, one hand holding her hijab, the other wiping away her tears.

The woman looked at her and asked, “Why are you crying?”

As if she had been expecting the scolding, the girl replied softly, “It’s not Huzaifa… it’s not him…”

“Be quiet! That’s all you can say while crying as if you were blaming someone else. If I forbid you from going, you won’t go. Now, take this money and go fetch it at Laure’s house. You will take sixty coins of yaji, forty of daddawa, and one hundred naira of palm oil, and make sure you prepare the soup before Maghrib.”

The girl pouted and muttered, “Must there be soup today too? Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un…”

The woman opened her mouth to glare at her. With a sharp tone, she said, “If I tell you to fetch it, you better take the money and go, or shall I punish you right here?”

The girl knelt, took the money, put on her hijab, and headed out, thinking to herself that it would have been better if there was nothing to eat today. Even this cornmeal felt like a ritual.

With a warning, the woman said, “If you see an opportunity, sit down, but don’t be hasty and see how I’ll handle you, or obey the children and start fooling around in the street.”

Without another word, the girl went on her way, glancing around cautiously.

When she reached her friend Habiba’s house, she found Habiba’s mother in the courtyard fixing hair. She knelt to greet her and asked for Habiba.

Habiba came out of her room, smiling as she saw her. The girl asked, “Ruma, am I going?”

In a hushed voice, Ruma replied, “Please, Habiba, can I borrow your mare Sani? Mama sent me; I want to go quickly and come back.”

Habiba said, “Ruma, you know Sani is stronger than one person alone. Don’t let her overpower you. From me to you, we’ll handle it together.”

Confidently, Ruma said, “I swear she won’t overpower me. Just lend her to me—I want to run quickly and return.”

Habiba led Ruma to their pen, looked at the rooster’s cage in the small side hall, lifted Sani, and handed him to Ruma. “Please, Ruma, take care of him. Make sure nothing happens to this rooster. Hurry back after you finish.”

Ruma smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle him and return. I want him to know I left him here for just a little while. You’ll see I’ll be back.”

Habiba smiled and said, “Alright, hurry before he returns.”

Ruma patted the rooster, carried him, and ran like a boy, not a girl. She didn’t stop with the rooster until she reached Laure’s house. She finished her errands, then prepared the rooster to return home. There, she saw some schoolmates of theirs at the gate of Hanne’s house with their mare. Without remembering her mother’s warning, she left the errands and joined them with the mare.

Since she was skilled in handling the mare, chaos broke out immediately. As she rode freely, some of the schoolmates started a fight, which escalated into wrestling. At one point, Ruma struck one of the mare’s holders as if she were a horse. A man had to separate the fight. Ruma rounded up the other children and scolded them. The man even threatened to tell her parents, so she finally relented.

Seeing that some of their efforts were wasted and the fight ended, the girls grabbed the items they had been sent to deliver, opened the bag, and ran off, struggling to collect everything. Some of the items spilled and scattered.

Ruma collected the remaining items and walked home, thinking about what excuse she could give her mother to avoid punishment, for she never liked being scolded. At the same time, she thought about how much she would beat Safiya when they met at school because of what had happened.

By the time Ruma arrived home, it was already time for Maghrib prayers, and she felt her heart race with fear.

She quietly sneaked into the house and saw her mother at the well, performing ablution. Her mother glanced at her, then continued without saying anything.

Ruma carefully set down the remaining errands, performed ablution herself, and went to the living room to pray behind her mother.

After her mother finished, she went to the courtyard, inspected the items Ruma had brought, and saw the work Ruma had done. Returning to the living room, she waited for Ruma to finish her prayer so she could chastise her—but Ruma refused to complete her prayer, instead performing extra voluntary prayers quietly. Normally, for her mother, even voluntary prayers came with some scolding, but today, Ruma did them undisturbed.

When her mother realized Ruma’s prayer wasn’t over, she grabbed her by the back of the neck, seated her, and glared at her. “Whose house did you go to for the errands?”

Fearful, Ruma shook her head. “Nowhere, Mama.”

“You’re lying! Tell me, or I’ll twist your neck. I sent you since Asr, but you only returned at Maghrib. Whose house did you go to?”

Ruma’s eyes darted around nervously as she swore she was telling the truth. “I swear, Mama, I went nowhere.”

In a fit of anger, her mother said, “You will not tell me?”

“Mama, I’m serious!”

“Assalamu alaikum,” came a greeting from the courtyard.

Her mother responded calmly, trying to hide her irritation. A young man entered the room, saying…