Masarautar Kamar Book 2 Complete Hausa Novel

She walked slowly, her head held high, until she reached her spot, where the supplies for her bean cake business (Awara) were ready. She started frying immediately, and business picked up as usual. Before long, she sold out her entire stock and collected her earnings.
She then found three children and asked them to help carry her remaining supplies. She walked slowly, almost as if gliding. She had four long braids reaching down her back, with pure black hair, and she wore earphones, listening to "Rush" by Ayra Starr. As she passed by a gathering spot, Zayyad spotted her and commented, "There's the demoness." Ja’afar laughed and replied, "Then go say hello to her." Zayyad responded, "Shut up, don't tempt me," to which Tareeq retorted, "Why do you all act so scared of her?"
Zayyad, laughing, teased, "I dare you to go and confess your love to her right now!" Tareeq, visibly irritated, walked over to her.
Hurriya, relaxed and enjoying her music, saw Tareeq approaching. Her beautiful eyes, which were so intense that nobody could hold her gaze for long, glanced at him as she raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "What's your problem?" Tareeq was left speechless. Mockingly, she asked, "Are you on guard duty, or do you owe me something?" This girl was not just beautiful but breathtakingly so, with flawless caramel skin like creamy milk, dark brown eyes, and an almost perfect figure. Her features were intimidating, but her elegance made her look more Ethiopian than Nigerian. Tareeq, unable to look away, thought to himself that she was as stunning as the Houri of paradise.
Hurriya looked at him and said, "I’d slap you, but that would be animal abuse," finishing with a mocking tone. "Get lost," she added, as Tareeq hurried back to his friends, who had been watching the encounter. As Hurriya passed by them, she looked back and scoffed, "Bunch of idiots," and walked home, her long hair swaying.
With a casual greeting, Hurriya entered her home, but Tabawa didn’t respond, which Hurriya ignored. As she was about to enter her room, she heard Tabawa mutter, "The way a person walks alone tells a lot about them." Hurriya, who had exceptional hearing, turned and, with a burning look in her eye, said, "At least my actions are out in the open. Unlike your 'righteous' daughter who is supposedly always covered up but secretly engages in shameful activities, going from one man to another. People think she's virtuous, and I’m the shameless one?"
"I don’t give a damn," she continued, "because people only believe what they want to see." She turned and went into her room, leaving Tabawa stunned, her mouth agape.
Hurriya took out her stove and boiled water for a quick wash. Afterward, she prayed, despite not knowing all the prayers well, and took out the earnings from her bean cake sales. She separated her spending money and her savings. Feeling hungry, she took a 200 Naira bill and went out. She was wearing jeans and a small maroon top, which caught people's attention, but she didn’t care. After buying a pack of noodles and cooking it at home, she ate and then, exhausted, fell asleep. 
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When they returned, the call to Maghrib prayer had started. Hurriya would struggle to stay beyond Maghrib at the bean cake frying stall. Bintu performed ablution and then entered the room, looking at Hurriya lying on the mat, listening to music with her eyes closed. Bintu admired her beauty—the long lashes that looked as if they were extensions, her long nose, and her cynical mouth. Besides her glowing, smooth, flawless skin, Hurriya’s face had no imperfections. Bintu glanced at her flat stomach that seemed as if she wore nothing over it. Hurriya was extraordinarily beautiful; anyone could tell by just one look, and spending a lifetime with her wouldn’t reveal a flaw because she only appeared more beautiful over time. She was the type who could compete in beauty pageants and win, and Bintu believed Hurriya could win any contest if she entered. People like her could become high-paid models in places like France or America. Everything about her exuded perfection, leaving nothing to criticize.
Bintu began her prayer, and even after she finished, Hurriya hadn’t moved. When Bintu finished her supplications, she looked at Hurriya and said, “Hurriya, get up and pray; time is running out.” But Hurriya didn’t hear her because she had her earphones in and the volume turned up. Bintu tried speaking again, and when it was clear Hurriya couldn’t hear her, she reached out and touched her. Hurriya startled awake and gave Bintu a furious look. Bintu, well aware of Hurriya’s dislike of being touched, could tell she had overstepped. Hurriya said, “Bintu, don’t ever repeat this mistake again.” Bintu replied, “Get up and pray; time is running out.” Hurriya nodded and went to perform ablution, then prayed quickly, and Bintu just watched her and shook her head.
Hurriya then asked Bintu, “Are you hungry?” and Bintu replied, “Yes, I am.” Hurriya tied her hair, as it was bothering her, and thought about trimming it since it had grown too thick. Once she finished fixing her hair, she looked at Bintu and said, “Let me get us some bean powder from the shop.” Bintu offered to go with her.
The two walked together, drawing attention wherever they passed, especially Hurriya in her pink crop top and black trousers, with her loose, shiny hair. When they reached the shop, they were greeted with a smile by the shopkeeper, who asked, “What would you like?” Hurriya asked him to add a hundred naira’s worth of bean powder, fifty naira of sugar, and fifty naira of groundnuts. Hamza, the shopkeeper, smiled and teased, asking if bean powder was what they’d be eating. Hurriya gave him a look, and he quickly complied, handing over their items. Bintu thanked him while Hurriya ignored them.
When they returned, they found Talatu and Tas’iu in the courtyard, laughing quietly, completely oblivious to Hurriya and Bintu’s arrival. Bintu felt uneasy, almost afraid, while Hurriya gave them a single glance and moved on. Tas’iu was whispering to Talatu, saying he had his eyes on a certain young lady who looked out of place, almost like a foreigner in her dress but who captivated him. Talatu laughed and remarked, “Hurriya? That one is nothing more than a skilled courtesan.”
Just then, Hurriya appeared in front of them, her face calm and expressionless as always. She looked directly at Tas’iu and, in a quiet but clear voice, taunted, “Why don’t you put your hand in my shirt too?” Tas’iu, taken aback, stood speechless under her intense gaze, embarrassed and unable to look away. With a mocking frown, she said, “Are you mad? Go look at yourself in the mirror.” Then, facing Talatu, Hurriya coldly asked, “What does ‘courtesan’ mean to you?” Talatu remained silent, and Hurriya continued, “I suggest you stop wasting time with young, broke men. If you’re going to be with a man, choose someone like Tas’iu’s father who can at least give you something to eat.”
Hurriya put her earphones back in and walked inside as if nothing had happened. She despised nonsense and knew she had to stand up for herself, regardless of who it was. She would look someone directly in the eyes and say whatever was on her mind without fear. Moreover, her unique gift allowed her to hear things from far away as though they were close by.
Bintu had already prepared the bean powder mixture and was waiting for Hurriya to drink it with her before they prayed and went to sleep. Bintu looked at Hurriya and asked where she had been. Hurriya replied quietly, “Outside,” knowing Bintu wouldn’t press further.
They drank together, though Hurriya took her time. When she finished, Bintu washed the cup, performed ablution, and began her Isha prayer. Just as she finished, there was a greeting.
Hurriya’s eyes were closed, but she heard everything. Bintu turned to Hurriya and said, “I’m leaving; Baba has called for me,” wiping away a tear that had fallen. Hurriya remained silent, almost as if she hadn’t heard her, as Bintu adjusted the curtain for her on her way out.
At the house entrance, Bintu’s heart sank, fearing what awaited her. She snuck into the courtyard, only to be greeted by Larai’s husband, Lalu, who had been waiting.
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