Matar Taj Book 3 Complete Hausa Novel

As if her legs were being dragged, she wiped the tears from her face with trembling hands, boiling with anger, and headed toward Taj’s part of the house with a firm resolve in her heart. As usual, the section was open, so she entered directly, passed through the sitting room, and went upstairs without any fear.

When she reached the top, she knocked once, then twice. From inside, he answered, “Come in,” thinking it was the person who usually cleaned the apartment.

She opened the door immediately without greeting. He had just finished getting ready to go out and was sitting at the edge of the bed, trying to put on his wristwatch when he heard the knock. After granting permission to enter, he didn’t even look up to see who it was—until he heard Maya’s voice.

“I want to talk to you…”

Slowly, he looked up in surprise and saw her standing there. Her eyes were very red, and her body trembled.

He returned his attention to what he was doing, acting as though there was no one in the room. Seeing that, she began walking toward him.

“Stop right there.”

He halted her. “Say whatever you came to say from there.”

Something seemed to block her throat. So he would also show her her place? Angrily, she stepped forward, suppressing what was rising inside her and holding back her tears. At that moment he stood up and gave her a look that made her blood run cold.

What she intended to do, she couldn’t. Instead, she lowered her eyes, and tears began to fall. As he watched her sob softly, he looked at her in surprise.

“Please, don’t avoid me. If everyone else shows they don’t love me, don’t reject me. I swear I love you, Uncle Taj. I love you more than my own life. Please help me—marry me.”

She finished while looking at him. He stared back at her and felt a slight wave of pity. His anger had begun to rise, but when she started crying, it faded. He hated seeing women cry. With a weary look, he turned his eyes away and said,

“Stop… crying. Clean those.”

He gestured toward her face.

A strange relief filled her heart. Her plan is working, she thought.

“What’s wrong with you? Who hates you?” he asked calmly.

From the way he spoke, she realized he felt something about her tears, so she decided to play the victim to gain his sympathy.

She squeezed out more tears, lowered her head, and said,

“Everyone. They all hate me. They love that hypocrite instead. She’s separated me from everyone. Because of her, no one loves me.”

The moment she started talking about Sabeeha, his anger returned—stronger than before, even more than when she had entered his room without greeting. From the way she spoke, he sensed jealousy, bitterness, and even shamelessness in her words. She even dragged Anne into it, claiming she was never loved. Only her foolishness could make her say Sabeeha ruined her life and separated her from everyone. In fact, it was the switch that caused Sabeeha to live a life of hardship—her life had been ruined because she was separated from her real parents while Maya had been raised in her place.

She didn’t even notice the expression on his face. She kept talking, trying to make him pity her, until she touched a nerve she shouldn’t have.

“You’re ungrateful,” he said angrily.

She quickly looked up at him, and her heart dropped. His anger was obvious as he continued,

“Are you trying to blame her for what your biological mother did? Did Fatima hate you for being in her place all this time? Do you even know what she had to go through?”

He kept questioning her, trying to bring sense into her head, realizing her childishness was part of the problem—along with her selfishness.

“Instead of being grateful?”

Her lips trembled, tears falling.

“Yes! Because of her I lost everything. Everyone is always ‘Fatima, Fatima, Fatima!’ I hate her! I wish she had died long ago!”

He pointed toward the door without saying anything, furious. She knew exactly what he meant. Her body trembling, she looked at him, gathering the courage to speak again in that state.

“Why is everyone siding with her? Why do you hate me, Uncle Taj?”

He didn’t look at her again. He turned toward the door to leave. She quickly moved in front of him. Without thinking, she began removing the veil from her head and loosening the tie of her dress. She was afraid of him, yet some strange confidence pushed her to do whatever came to mind.

“I swear I can give you anything—even myself…” she said, trying to slip off her dress.

A sharp slap landed across her cheek. His face was filled with intense anger. There was nothing he despised more than seeing a shameless woman—especially one this young.