Bagidajiya 1 Complete Hausa by Haseena

Farouk didn’t hesitate; he hurriedly grabbed his car keys and went to the market in search of a block of sugar cubes. He had to park by the roadside and walk in.
As he entered the bustling market, he began navigating through narrow, slippery paths, grimacing as he stepped into puddles of water left by the market sellers performing ablution. Disgust was etched on his face.
With difficulty, he located the sugar sellers. In haste, he pulled out ₦1,000 and handed it to a woman selling the sugar blocks. “Hmm, please give these to the beggar children,” he said, pointing at a group of beggars with his finger.
The next thing he saw was chaos he hadn’t anticipated. The beggars swarmed him like bees, trampling on his polished shoes. He barely managed to extricate himself from the crowd, leaving the market in frustration. Furious and tired, he abandoned the rest of the shopping and headed home.
<hr>
Indo had retreated to her room, her heart leaping with excitement as though it were a festive day.
She approached her mirror and meticulously powdered her face with bright-red powder. She painted her lips with black lipstick, layering on red lipstick underneath, and applied rouge liberally to her cheeks. Her face, caked with excessive makeup, looked like a palette of disorganized colors.
She wore mismatched clothes and strutted into the main living room, planting herself on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. She exhaled confidently, as if saying, “I’m the epitome of beauty.”
Hassana and her sister, watching a movie in the living room, quickly scattered, knowing that an encounter with Indo could lead to unexpected drama.
Farouk entered the house, starting his routine with greetings. His eyes landed on Indo. Shocked, he recoiled, muttering prayers: "Indeed, this is from Solomon. There is no deity but Allah!"
He rubbed his eyes as if to clear a supernatural illusion caused by Indo’s appearance.
Indo burst into laughter. “Honey, this is Indo the diva! The slayer of men! The one who commands legions of spirits with three horns, ruling over kingdoms.”
Terrified, Farouk bolted out of the house, clutching his chest. As he dashed out, Baba the gardener was entering the house with a flowerpot. Startled by Farouk’s hurried exit, Baba fell, the flowerpot landing on his head.
With a dramatic gasp, Baba cried, “Oh Lord, Azrael (Angel of Death), please make my transition gentle! Surely, death is near—Paradise, prepare for me!” He sprawled on the ground, clutching his chest and gasping heavily.
Farouk glanced at him, indifferent to his plight, muttering angrily, “If you want to get up, get up; if you want to lie down, stay there. I have no time for your nonsense.”
Farouk stepped over him and left.
<hr>
Indo, meanwhile, began feasting in the living room. A carton of yogurt sat by her side, and a large box of biscuits lay before her. She munched and mixed the biscuits with the yogurt in a bowl, eating with relish.
When Farouk returned, he handed her the items she requested, his face calm but resigned.
“Here are your items,” he said respectfully. Indo grabbed the package, took five sugar cubes, and popped them into her mouth, crunching them loudly. With her mouth full, she dismissed him, waving her hand, “Go on; I’ll call you when I need you.”
Farouk didn’t hesitate—he left immediately.
<hr>
Indo’s antics weren’t lost on Hassana and her sister. They watched her from a distance, whispering about her strange behavior. Indo, unbothered, continued her carefree existence, indifferent to the opinions of others.
Meanwhile, their father, a jovial man who loved to make jokes, continued to show Indo extra attention. Whenever he went shopping, he made sure to buy her the same items as his daughters but noticed she rarely used them. She preferred staying in her old ways, wearing the same clothes repeatedly.
Indo’s sisters decided to confront their father, trying to convince him that Indo’s attitude would only embarrass the family, but their father waved them off. Instead, he registered Indo in the same school as them, determined to give her the same opportunities.
<hr>
One day, Farouk returned home and found Indo in the living room. She was dancing flamboyantly to a Hausa song, pointing at him dramatically as if he were her dance partner. Her antics left Farouk fuming, while Aliyu Haidar, who was present, burst into laughter, enjoying Indo’s comedy-like performance.
Farouk stormed off, muttering, “What a clown!” Meanwhile, Indo continued her playful dance, unbothered.
<hr>
Indo’s mischievous ways often caused chaos in the household. She had little regard for decorum and always managed to create trouble wherever she went. Despite this, their father remained steadfast in his affection for her, believing that with time, she would mature into a responsible young lady.
<hr>
One day, Indo’s sisters succeeded in passing their entrance exams to secondary school, achieving impressive results. Indo, on the other hand, barely passed but was grateful nonetheless. Their father ensured that all three girls were enrolled in the same school, much to the dismay of Hassana and her sister, who felt that Indo didn’t deserve the same privileges as them.
Indo’s antics continued to baffle the family. She seemed determined to remain carefree and playful, often mimicking her sisters’ behavior for amusement. Despite their frustration, the family couldn’t help but laugh at Indo’s unpredictable nature.
Would Indo ever mature and adapt to her new environment? Only time would tell. 
Today, Monday, Indo was supposed to start school. Hassana and Hussaina were the first to get ready in their uniforms with short skirts. After fully preparing, they packed Indo’s school items and took them to her room. Indo, however, was still peacefully asleep.
Irritated, Hussaina raised her hand to look at her wristwatch. It was 7:15 AM.
“Twinny, we’ll be late if we keep waiting here. Just look at the time! Assembly starts at 7:30 AM. Honestly, I’ll go ahead even if I have to take a motorcycle; it’s better than sitting around.”
“Oh, come on, sis. They won’t do anything to us since today’s our first day. Let’s just wake her up, and she can quickly get ready. We’ll manage to make it.”
“Alright then, go ahead and wake her. Let’s see if she’ll even bother to get up,” Hussaina retorted, walking off in frustration.
Hassana, however, gently woke Indo up. Indo opened her eyes to see Hassana in her uniform. Indo quickly jumped off the bed and stood there scrutinizing her.
“Goodness, Hassana! Or is it Hussaina? Where are you going dressed like someone headed to catch fish? Look at that tiny beret perched on your head, like a half-sewn hat. And those shoes! They look like they’re made for climbing mountains.”
Hassana responded calmly, “Aunty Indo, didn’t Dad tell you yesterday that we’re starting school today? This is the required uniform for all proper students. Yours is in the bag—go on and get dressed so we’re not late.”
Indo chuckled sarcastically. “So, you and Hassana now wear this absurd outfit? Walking around looking like show-offs? Wow, this is truly arrogance for women. Why can’t we wear a hijab instead?”
“Aunty Indo, it’s just the rules. Besides, don’t you want to learn to speak the language we’ve been practicing with Mr. Umar? What did you call it again?”
“Oh! That one where you all keep saying ‘Miss, Miss.’ I called it the language of beggars, right? Yes, I want to learn it.”
Hassana called out to Hussaina, who was already downstairs in the dining area, “Hurry up, Indo! Mom’s calling us.”
Indo finally got out of bed, went to perform ablution, and prayed. While applying lotion, Hassana came back into the room, now 8:00 AM. Hassana found Indo applying bright red powder to her face and exclaimed in shock:
“Indo, are you okay? What’s with all this makeup? Do you think this is a fashion show? This is school, not a mental asylum! Look at your disheveled hair, sleep-filled eyes, and smelly armpits. Please, for God’s sake, take a proper bath. Even the driver has errands to run after dropping us off—don’t waste everyone’s time!”
“Look here, don’t insult me. Are you saying all my efforts to get ready were in vain? What’s wrong with my makeup? It’s just a little powder. Well, if you’re not satisfied, then I’m not going anymore. I didn’t even sleep well!”
Indo got up and put on long trousers, topped with the school’s short skirt and shirt, and then covered her head with a beret that looked like a cooking pot. Hassana, now on the verge of tears, sat on her bed, stunned at Indo’s appearance.
With a sigh, Hassana wondered if Indo was mentally stable or just being intentionally difficult. Indo broke her train of thought.
“Are you done staring? Let’s go—I’m ready.”
When they got downstairs, Mom immediately noticed Indo’s outfit. “Indo, are you serious? Hassana, couldn’t you fix Indo’s appearance before coming down? Is this how she’s going to school?”
Mom was at the dining table with Dad, who was amused but managed to keep a straight face. Hassana and Hussaina had woken up early in excitement for their first day of school, but now, Hussaina was visibly upset.
“Mom, I can’t do anything about Indo. Honestly, Dad should transfer her to a public school. This is too much.”
Dad tried to suppress his laughter as he began speaking. “Why are you girls so hard on Indo? Aisha, go remove those trousers under your uniform. But honestly, your makeup looks fine. No one will say anything—don’t worry.”
“Alhaji, you’re embarrassing us,” Mom replied. “Let’s not start this way.”
“Okay, okay, Aisha, go change, but know this—raising a child is different from controlling their personality. Hassana, well done! Keep up the good work. We’re already seeing progress with Indo.”
Mom rolled her eyes and laughed. “If this is progress, then we have a lot of work to do.”
Indo reluctantly changed her outfit before they all headed to school. On the way, the driver kept glancing at Indo’s sweaty face. She looked completely out of place and defiant, like a troublemaker.
When they got to the school, everyone stared at Indo as they walked to the Vice Principal’s office to submit their documents. Indo strode confidently into the classroom like a boss. The class atmosphere immediately changed from calm to chaotic.
The teacher, confused, told Indo to sit down, but she retorted, “Look at this old man. Do you think with your oversized head and cheap suit you can teach me? Find me a seat that can hold my weight first!”
The class erupted into laughter and chaos. Hassana burst into tears while Hussaina hung her head in embarrassment. The teacher, baffled, asked, “Can someone translate what she just said?”
The class went silent—no one dared to explain. Indo scanned the room and spotted a chubby girl sitting on a sturdy chair. Marching over, she stomped her foot loudly, startling the girl.
“That chair is mine. Get up now!”
The girl burst into tears. “But it’s mine!”
Indo snapped, “Shut up and give it to me!”
The teacher left to report Indo to the Principal’s office. Though reprimanded, Indo became infamous. Students started calling her Oga Senior, and she wore the nickname like a badge of honor. Indo quickly dominated the school, instilling fear in students and staff alike.