Auren Huce Haushi Book 1 Complete Hausa Novels By Maman Fatima

A Plea for Patience and a Marriage Proposal

Since Alhaji began speaking, Malam Bukar kept shaking his head. The matter had deeply troubled him; he knew that the girl’s situation involved enemies from within. But seeing the wide gap that had developed between them, he assumed the issue had gone too far.

With sorrow, Malam looked at his friend and said, “Please, Alhaji, be patient. Don’t act out of anger by saying you will marry her off, so that we won’t end up regretting it later.”

He sat down on the chair next to him and let out a deep sigh.

“I swear I’m not angry at Allah’s decree. I’m just tired of this drama—always being belittled. I remove my IV bandage only for them to say it’s been cancelled. Some even insult me, saying I’m not Fatima’s real father, and I just stand by watching her being humiliated. Honestly, if I hadn’t vowed to stop arranging family marriages, by today or tomorrow I would have given her to Abdul Hakeem. But even now it’s not too late—seek the opinion of Mahmud who is with you. If he agrees, I’ll give her to him in marriage.”

Startled, Malam Bukar looked at Alhaji Jafar and said, “Which Mahmud? Surely not the one with me?”

Nodding, Alhaji Jafar replied, “Yes, that’s the one I mean. Or is there another Mahmud with you?”

Malam shook his head and said, “No. But Alhaji, Mahmud’s situation isn’t hidden from you. We don’t want the world to mock us.”

Adjusting his seat, Alhaji faced his friend squarely. “By Allah, Malam, I’m not afraid of whatever people may say. I admire his calmness. If it doesn’t happen, then perhaps Allah has not destined him to be her husband. But for a long time, I’ve wished him for my daughter.”

Malam simply nodded. The whole matter had long been clear to him. He had reflected deeply on Fatima’s issue and always felt her husband was not someone nearby; rather, he sensed something great concerning her future husband—a man surrounded by a certain light. Yet even in jest, he had never mentioned this to Alhaji. Instead, he frequently asked his students to pray for her.

They discussed back and forth for a long time, until finally they agreed that Malam would ask the young man for his opinion—if he was willing, then there would be no problem.

Zahra’s Grand Entrance

Slowly, she descended the stairs like a peacock. She wore exquisite makeup and a gown of breathtaking beauty, with a small purse in her hand. Behind her were two young women, each elegantly dressed in her own style. Even before they finished coming down, her soothing fragrance had filled the entire hall.

The hall was crowded with guests; everyone you saw was chanting her praise except for a few children.

Quickly, a woman approached them, clapping joyfully and saying, “Masha Allah! O bride, may Allah protect you from harm and grant you a peaceful marriage. Hajiya Zahra—look at this pure beauty! Granddaughter of the Fulani leaders of Mubi, descendant of the Arabs of Jordan and of Madinatul Munawwara—see her noble origin! O bride in Mushahu’s house, may Allah’s blessings reach you!”

One of the seated women stood up and signaled for money to be given to the praise-singer, who continued showering Bride Zahra with compliments.

Aunty Hasana emerged from a small corridor and walked over, gazing at her younger sister while glorifying the One who created such stunning beauty.

She held Zahra’s hand and looked at Baba Tabawa, her worker, who was energetically chanting praises like a beggar.

Smiling slightly, she said, “Masha Allah. Baba Tabawa, when did you become a beggar without my knowledge?”

Laughing, she replied, “Even if I didn’t know how before, I’ve learned now! This is our madam’s wedding—you know a wedding of a fair hen is no small gathering. It’s not an ordinary invitation; it’s like preparing for the grave itself! You can’t stay inside among the shy ones—you only came out after you were fully dressed!”