Darajar Yayana part 3 Complete Hausa Novel

Aliyu was running very fast, as if fleeing the town. His heart was broken, and he felt he might be suffering from a serious illness. He envisioned himself lying weak, covered with sores. He quickly grabbed his phone and called his doctor.
“Doctor, are you at the hospital?” Aliyu asked. “Yes, but I’m about to leave,” the doctor replied. “Please wait for me; I’m close to your hospital,” Aliyu pleaded.
They exchanged greetings hastily when Aliyu arrived. He asked the doctor, “Can tests be done now, and results obtained immediately?” “What kind of test?” the doctor asked. Aliyu hesitated before saying, “H.I.V.”
The doctor looked at him in shock. “Do you think you might have it?” “Yes,” Aliyu confirmed.
The doctor conducted the test, and after a short wait, he showed Aliyu the results. “For now, the result shows you don’t have it. However, one test isn’t enough to confirm. We’ll have to repeat it after three months and again after another three months. If all three tests show negative, then you are free of it.”
Aliyu closed his eyes. “So, doctor, there’s no certainty yet?” “Unfortunately, no,” the doctor replied, putting a reassuring hand on Aliyu’s shoulder. “Even if it’s positive, there are treatments available. Antiretroviral drugs can suppress the virus and help maintain a healthy immune system.”
Aliyu wiped the sweat from his brow and thanked the doctor. “What about my family? Should they also get tested?” The doctor explained, “H.I.V. isn’t transmitted through casual interactions like sharing utensils or talking. If they don’t engage in risky behaviors, they should be fine.”
Aliyu sighed in relief, thanked the doctor again, and headed home.
At home, Sadiya was sitting on the bed, her eyes swollen from crying. She was praying fervently for her brother. When she heard his greeting at the door, she jumped up to meet him. Seeing his distressed expression, she asked, “Does this mean you have it?”
Aliyu shook his head and reassured her. “No, I don’t. The initial test was negative, but we have to wait for confirmation after further tests.”
Relieved but still emotional, Sadiya remarked, “When someone strays from God’s path, they always regret it.”
Aliyu embraced her, apologizing for the pain he might have caused. “Even if I do have it, I believe you’re safe because I haven’t wronged you in that way.”
Sadiya, with tears in her eyes, responded, “You’re my husband, and I love you. Whatever affects you also affects me.” She then went to pray, seeking comfort from her Creator.
Aliyu joined her in prayer, and afterward, they both felt a sense of calm. As they lay on the bed, facing each other, Aliyu apologized again, promising to do better. Sadiya forgave him, and they spent the night together, finding solace in each other’s presence.
The next morning, Aliyu received a call from his family, informing him of an issue with his mother, Iya. When he arrived, he found her upset, having heard complaints about him from the children.
Iya expressed her disappointment, saying, “Sadiya will not return to your house if this continues. I won’t allow my daughter-in-law to endure such humiliation.”
Aliyu was distressed, but Usman, his friend, intervened to mediate. After much discussion, Iya softened her stance, advising Sadiya to prioritize her well-being and ensure her children didn’t harbor resentment towards their father.
Later, Aliyu apologized sincerely to Sadiya for his mistakes. Sadiya, in turn, reassured him of her love and willingness to support him through any trial. Together, they resolved to rebuild their relationship on a foundation of trust, love, and faith. 
That night, apart from showing patience, Aliyu offered me nothing else. But that wasn’t my main problem—how would the issue of HIV and that girl be resolved?
I turned to look at him from where I was lying; he was also lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. There was enough space between us for another person to lie. I called out, “Brother!” He didn’t respond. I raised my voice, “Brother!” Still no reply; it seemed his thoughts had wandered far.
I sat up and switched on the room light. Brightness filled the space as I fixed my gaze on him with a pounding heart. My breath hitched as I saw tears streaming in twin lines down his face—one tear trailing his cheek, the other rolling past the corner of his eye.
I exclaimed out loud, “Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihir raji’un! Brother!” I called out, moving closer to him and laying my head on his chest. My ears caught the sound of his sobs, muffled against his chest.
It seemed like he was trying to suppress the crying, but the emotions refused to stay contained. Hurriedly, I placed my hand on his chest, rubbing it gently, hoping to console him. With a trembling voice, I asked, “What’s wrong now, Brother? Whatever you’ve done, I’ve forgiven you already. I’ve promised you a life better than the painful one we had before.”
His hand pressed lightly on my back, gripping my shirt slightly, as his voice cracked with suppressed sorrow. “Sadiya, my pain isn’t about what you think. My grief comes from the possibility of being sick…” He couldn’t finish as the tears overtook him.
I interrupted, crying myself, “Even if you’re sick, Brother, I will stay by your side. Even if I have to catch it, I’ll accept it because I love you.”
He hugged me tightly, whispering, “Sadiya, I won’t harm you. May Allah protect you. I am the one who has harmed myself. Anyone who strays from Allah’s commandments, follows their desires, and abandons the teachings of our Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him), and emulates the ways of Jews and Christians, will surely regret it when it’s too late.
“When that girl visited me, I shouldn’t have followed my lust, even though she didn’t force me. I’m not crying because of the sickness I may have or the continuation of my life. I cry because I’ll leave you to handle my illness and care for our children. I also cry about the reckoning I’ll face in my grave, not knowing what to tell my Creator.”
He fell silent amid his sobs, and my tears increased. “Brother, insha’Allah, you are not sick. Continue seeking Allah’s forgiveness—He accepts the repentance of His servants.”
He sat us both up, lifting my face to look directly into my eyes. “Sadiya, am I too late?” I shook my head, “No, Brother. You’re not too late. Stop thinking you’ll die and leave me. Insha’Allah, you will bury me first.”
He embraced me so tightly it felt as if he wanted to put me inside his chest. “I love you, Sadiya. I love my children, and I love my mother. But if it happens that I leave you all…”
His phone interrupted him. It seemed like he didn’t want to answer, as if everything around him had concluded his life was over. I picked up the phone and handed it to him. It was Adewale, his driver, calling.
“Brother, answer the call,” I urged. Reluctantly, he greeted Adewale, who replied and said, “Sir, Madam is at the hospital and isn’t feeling well. She asked me to call you.”
“What?” Aliyu exclaimed loudly, “Mujidat is sick?” My heart sank, as if I were the one who had picked up the phone. My eyes widened as I asked what had happened to her. Aliyu, at a loss for words, repeated my question to Adewale.
“I don’t know, sir,” Adewale answered. “She’s here, but let me pass her the phone.”
Aliyu yelled, “Don’t give her the phone! I don’t want to hear her voice, the deceitful woman.”
I quickly interjected, “Brother, let her speak so we can understand what’s wrong with her. Could she really be sick?”
Aliyu fell silent, looking at me with unease before ending the call. “Brother, for Allah’s sake, call her back and let her explain. Please,” I insisted. Though begrudgingly, he did so because of my persistence.
Aliyu put the call on speaker. Adewale picked up, saying he would hand the phone to her. A faint voice on the line said, “Hello.” Aliyu cut her off angrily, “What do you want? Didn’t I tell you I don’t want anything to do with you? You’re deceitful. You knowingly carried HIV and tried to ruin my family and me.”
She screamed, “No! No! I don’t have HIV unless you gave it to me!”
Aliyu and I exchanged glances, and he asked her sternly, “Then what sickness do you have that you claim isn’t HIV?”
She replied, “I’m carrying your child, and it’s making me unwell. But I don’t have HIV.”
Before she could finish, Aliyu shouted angrily, “Don’t you dare insult my father! This child isn’t mine. Go and find its father.”
With a trembling voice, she said, “This is your child, and I’ve never been with anyone else. If I have HIV, it’s from you, just like this pregnancy. And I won’t abort it. I’ll give birth to my child, and I’ll come to your family to prove it.”
Aliyu angrily dismissed her claims and ended the call. I stood up to leave, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his arms, apologizing and trying to calm me down.