,MAI SONA COMPLETE HAUSA NOVEL

She sat down watching the bright moon that illuminated everywhere… she gazed at the atmosphere, which brought her immense comfort. A breeze blew gently, and she closed her eyes, feeling a sense of calm, but alas! The absence of her beloved beside her was her biggest problem at this moment. Slowly, she muttered, “Oh God! I wonder if my lover is still alive? If he is, I’m sure he’s married and living with his wife, having forgotten all about me.” A thin tear rolled from her eyes just as someone touched her shoulder. Startled, she turned slowly to see the old woman sitting beside her, a smile on her face. “My granddaughter, be patient and continue to pray. One day, God may reveal your beloved to you if it’s destined that you’ll reunite.” She rested her head on the old woman’s shoulder, sobbing quietly. After much effort, the old woman consoled her by telling stories of their own time, making her forget all her worries for the moment.
In the morning, she got up and cleaned their house thoroughly, washed the dishes, and bathed. Coming out of the bathroom, she met her father in the living room with the old woman. She sat down and greeted him respectfully, and he responded warmly. "Abba, when will you return to your school?” "Abba, we are going for IT (internship), not returning to school.” "Alright, that’s good. May God make it easy for you and grant you success.” "Ameen, thank you.”
From there, she went into her room and dressed in a beautiful atampa (traditional attire). After spraying perfume, I paused to observe her… She was tall but not excessively so, her height perfectly matching her slender frame. Her skin glowed, her features refined—a long, elegant nose, small lips, shiny eyelashes, and dimples that complemented her beauty. She was undeniably attractive, masha Allah. She added a hijab and stepped out. Her father was still chatting with the old woman as she passed. Entering another section of the house, she met a beautiful woman holding a tea flask coming out of the kitchen.
"Good morning, Umma." "Morning. How are you and how’s your grandmother?” "We’re fine, alhamdulillah.”
From there, the woman went into the living room. Another young girl came out of a bedroom, holding a cup with water, a brush, and toothpaste.
"Good morning, Anti Maryam."
Maryam didn’t respond and instead went outside to brush. Afterward, she returned to the living room, glaring at her.
"I don’t even know what kind of creature you are. Do you have to wander around the house wearing a hijab? Honestly, Umma, they only sent her to Islamiyya (Islamic school) and nothing else. Abba should stop wasting his money on her because she doesn’t even resemble a modern girl.”
"Hmm, it’s your father who spoils her. Honestly, I can’t understand Ruhaimat. You’re so different from my other children."
The one they called Ruhaimat lowered her head, listening quietly. Maryam’s voice rang out again:
"I don’t understand how someone speaks before brushing their teeth."
They suddenly heard their father’s voice: "Easy, city girl. Maryam, you better respect yourself. I always tell you to stop treating her this way, but you don’t listen. Fear God and change your attitude.” He turned to Umma:
"What is your issue, too? I’ve never seen a woman who spoils her own daughter except you. Just treat her gently.”
"Hold on, Alhaji. I don’t hate her. I’m just trying to enlighten her because I see that she’s living in ignorance. And this problem started because you refused to name her after my mother and instead chose your own mother’s name.”
He smiled and replied: “May God guide you, Halima. Er Abba, come, let’s go eat.” She stood up quietly and followed her father while Umma and Maryam glared at her.
<hr>
Alhaji Abubakar Hammawa was his real name. Their parents had three children. The eldest, Alhaji Ahmadu, worked as a government official in Kano with two wives and eight children. Then there was Hajiya Maryam, married in Yola, a senior nurse at FMC Yola with four children. Finally, there was the youngest, Alhaji Abubakar, who ventured into business after his education. He married Halimatu from their hometown, and they were blessed with six children: Mohammed (Hamma), Ahmadu, Zainab, Yusuf, Maryam, and Aisha (Ruhaimat).
<hr>
After breakfast with her father, she cleaned up and headed to Hajja Dada's side.
"My dear, you’re back?" "Yes, my namesake." "Have you eaten? I kept some for you. That rude elder sister of yours brought it, and when I asked for you, she didn’t answer me.”
"Hmm, Anti Maryam is always in a hurry.”
"I wonder where she’ll find a husband with that attitude.”
Ruhaimat laughed heartily, and just then, her phone rang. Seeing the name “My Lover” on the screen, she answered with a smile.
"Oh dear, I miss you so much.” "Ruhi Nah, you couldn’t even flash me for two days?” "Forgive me; you know I can’t do much when I’m with Hajja Dada.” "Uhmm, so you’ll forget everyone, even your lover?” "No, don’t say that! If I forget my lover, then I’m not breathing in this world.”
"Hmm, Ruhi, you’re still obsessed with the man you don’t even know whether he’s alive or dead?”
"Insha Allah, he’s alive. I can feel it, and we’ll meet soon.”
"Alright, Juliet. May God reveal him to you.” "Ameen, thank you.”
They chatted a while longer before saying goodbye.
<hr>
Around 4:30 PM, a boy entered, announcing that someone was asking for Ruhaimat. Maryam laughed:
"Go on; she’s coming."
Ruhaimat hesitated: "Who is it?"
Maryam rolled her eyes: "How would I know? Maybe it’s your Ustaz (teacher). Who knows?”
"I didn’t invite anyone.”
"Your business. Who would even want to see you anyway?”
Hajja Dada intervened: "Go and see who it is.”
Reluctantly, she removed her hijab, threw it on, and went outside.
The young man stood next to his motorbike, well-dressed and smelling of perfume. She greeted him.
"How are you, Malama?" "Fine, alhamdulillah. How’s everything?”
"I’m fine… Ruhaimat, I’ve been in love with you for a long time. My name is Aliyu.”
"Aliyu, thank you, but I already have someone.”
"Someone? But I checked, and you don’t have a suitor.”
"That’s true, but I have someone I’ve promised to marry. I’m sorry.”
He handed her a large bag, but she refused and returned inside.
<hr>
That night, lying on the mat outside, she gazed at the sky, imagining her beloved’s face.
"Oh God, my lover."
"Every night, it’s lover this, lover that. Are you alright?”
"Please pray for me, Hajja, that God fulfills my dream.”
"Hmm. May God ease your worries.”
She smiled, not saying another word.