ZEE-BABY-1-AND-2 COMPLETE HAUSA NOVEL

<p>In the city of Mecca, Saudi Arabia, around three in the morning, I heard a loud noise and music. Startled, I rushed toward the source of the sound, wondering who would be making such noise at a time when most people were either sleeping or in prayer, seeking closeness to Allah, the Most High. But here, some people seemed to be indulging in what I could only describe as shameless behavior. Most Saudis, both young and old, do not sleep until they’ve performed the morning prayers, but not Zee Baby.</p>
<p>Zee never seemed to sleep. I entered an extravagant parlor decorated with elegance, passing by it to approach the room where the music was playing. There, I saw a beautiful woman, an Arab around 35 years old, holding a rosary in her hand, her head resting on her knees, speaking in a trembling voice. I stopped to listen to what she was saying and heard her, in Arabic, pleading, “Oh Lord, look upon me and relieve me of my burdens. Please guide my daughter Zainaba. Should I be more concerned about the absence of my husband, my parents, or my two sons? My father has influenced them to despise me, and now my daughter rejects me too. I chose Zainaba above all else, and we left everything behind in Jeddah to come to Mecca, yet nothing has changed. My father’s words haunt me, and now my daughter rebels against me. I must take matters into my own hands to stop her.”</p>
<p>Then I moved on to where the music was coming from, shocked at what I saw: a girl, around 17 years old, dancing with intense energy, spinning like a whirlwind. She wore very tight black pants, and her top was barely more than a bra. The two Arab boys with her, though of darker skin, clapped loudly, encouraging her with shouts of “Go, Zee Baby!” She intensified her moves, shaking her body with skill. She looked every bit the part of an Arab beauty but with a hint of something more, her features likely a mix of backgrounds that made her stunningly unique. Her long hair fell to her back in layers of three colors—red, pink, and blue. She wore five gold earrings on each ear, with small golden studs in her nose and lips, accentuating her face’s beauty. Her figure was well-shaped, with full curves despite her petite frame, a classic "Coca-Cola bottle" figure.</p>
<p>Her large, slightly closed eyes gave the impression she was squinting, though it was just her natural look. Her eyes were like deep pools, with lashes that framed them perfectly, adding to her allure. Her nose was elegant, and her small mouth was naturally pink, as if she had applied lipstick. Her skin was flawless, her actions bold, and she seemed to have no fear, with a stubborn streak and a tendency to lash out at anyone who disrespected her.</p>
<p>Her phone rang, and her friend Jannat, who was nearby, brought it over to her. Jannat was also dressed boldly, and Zee reluctantly paused her dance to take the call, “Hello, my love, Qalbi. Why haven’t you come yet?” The voice on the other end replied in frustration, causing Zee to sigh and almost hang up, but then she heard, “My baby, Zee, I was talking to my family about us. I’m afraid of all the young Hausa men who keep pursuing you; I hope you won’t leave me for them.” She laughed and sent him a kiss over the phone, smiling slyly. He suddenly broke into tears, and Zee, annoyed, responded, “Qalbi, a grown man like you crying? Fine, if this is how you want to be, I’m done with this.” She dismissed him with a sigh and headed back to her friends, determined to continue dancing until dawn.</p>
<p>Back in Nigeria, around ten in the morning, I saw a young man around 28 years old in an elegantly designed office. He was on the phone, speaking with a calm, measured tone, his hand running through his sleek hair. He had a broad chest and was handsome with a dimple on each cheek, adding to his charm. His deep, almond-shaped eyes looked as if he were in a daze.</p>
<p>Someone knocked on the door, and a nurse entered, saying, “Doctor, everything is ready; they’re waiting for you in the operating room.” With a warm but reluctant smile, he acknowledged her and turned to his brother, Mahabeer, who had just entered with a smile. “Dr. Sardauna, your mother has been trying to reach you. She asked me to come and check on you,” Mahabeer said. “Oh, I’ve been busy. Please tell her I’ll call her later.”</p>
<p>Mahabeer left, knowing his brother’s aversion to the arranged trip to Saudi Arabia.<br><br></p>
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<p>…he headed towards the <em>Kofar Marusa Lowcos</em> neighborhood. I saw him approach a large gate, where Mahabeer stood honking until the gate was opened for him to enter. Inside, he parked quickly as he was in a hurry to get back to work. Walking calmly towards the house, his steps exuded confidence. This was the first time I noticed his build—he was tall, though not as tall as Dr. Sardauna, who was more muscular. Mahabeer was not very muscular but was of an average build, with moderate facial features, not too fair or too dark. He had thick hair and expressive eyes, giving him a handsome look. Although he might not match Dr. Sardauna's striking appearance, Mahabeer had a unique charm. If Dr. Sardauna wasn’t nearby, one might think Mahabeer could easily be mistaken for him. Mahabeer was known for his calm and approachable demeanor; he was always cheerful and enjoyed being around people, rarely letting anger get to him, unlike Dr. Sardauna, who was known for his fierce and stern nature, often keeping to himself unless something directly affected him. Despite his tough exterior, Dr. Sardauna was generous and respected everyone, yet he didn’t tolerate disrespect. For this reason, children in the family feared him and tended to gravitate toward Mahabeer, drawn to his warmth and friendliness.</p>
<p>When Mahabeer opened the parlor door, he greeted Ghaysha, who was on a call, laughing and chatting with a young woman lying beside her, about 22 years old. She returned Mahabeer’s greeting, glancing away in modesty. Mahabeer sat close to her and asked, "My bro, how are you?" "Alhamdulillah," she replied, "and you?" He nodded without saying more, waiting for Ghaysha to finish her call.</p>
<p>When Ghaysha finally looked at him with a smile, he asked, "Ghaysha, where’s Daddy?" She smacked him lightly. "Don't you know he left? He hasn’t been gone an hour! What do you need him for when you live in the same house?" He sighed. "Ghaysha, you know how persistent Ummi Raiyan has been about this trip, right?" She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. "Your dad has spoken. You’re leaving the day after tomorrow; stop fussing. By the time you’re in Saudi, he’ll have returned by the evening."</p>
<p>He smiled, stood up, and said, "Alright, I’ll head back and check in later." Aunty Amarya entered, holding Nanah, who was fussing. "Ah, Mahabeer, where are you headed looking like that?" He laughed, picking up Nanah, and tried to calm her. After he managed to settle her down, he gave Ghaysha a playful kiss, making her laugh alongside Khalisat as he left.</p>
<p>At around three in the afternoon, Mahabeer was seated in his office on a plush chair, having a calm conversation in Arabic, speaking respectfully. "Ummi, don't worry. I’ll keep a close watch on her, inshallah. She won’t continue her defiance here; there’s a way to set her straight. Please, don't let it stress you to the point of illness." He smiled as he reassured her, and they hung up. Lighting a cigarette, he exhaled thoughtfully, looking troubled at the thought of the girl arriving soon. He disliked the idea of her being there, fearing her poor behavior would impact the family's reputation.</p>
<p>Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. He allowed the visitor in, his friend Dr. Sardauna entering with a smile. "Mahabeer, what’s this between you and Mashakurah? What happened?" Mahabeer sighed, annoyed, "I don’t know why she’s coming here. It’s making me anxious."</p>
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