It was the rainy season. The atmosphere of the town was always cloudy, with lush green grass covering everywhere the eye could see. The farmland was very productive in this area, which was a small village crowded with people of different backgrounds. Everywhere you looked, people were busy on their farms, working hard.
A fair-skinned man was busy cutting millet with a sharp knife. From time to time, he glanced at the road and at the three young girls helping him with the work. When he didn’t see what he was hoping for, he fell silent, stood upright, and held his lower back as if in pain. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked at the girls, saying:
“Aishatu, where exactly did your mother stop? She still hasn’t come, and we’ve done such heavy work. Is it that fever again today?”
He asked as he sat down, extremely tired. Just one look at him was enough to know that poverty had completely settled into his life. Aisha, the one he had called, lifted her head. She was soaked in sweat too, clearly exhausted and hungry, and replied:
“Wallahi, Baba, I don’t know. By the time we left, I didn’t see her. But maybe Asma’u saw her.”
Asma’u shook her head and said, “No, I didn’t meet her either.”
The man nodded his head and said, “It’s the will of Allah. May Allah grant her good health. I’m worried because of that stubborn fever that refuses to go away. All the little money I had is finished—nothing at home, nothing outside. When you don’t have money, people just look at you as if you don’t exist. May Allah cover our shortcomings.”
He spoke with deep worry, then stood up, picked up his knife, and returned to work. His children followed him with pity in their eyes, because they knew their father—whenever he had something, he never deprived his family and always provided for them. But now, there was simply nothing.
A tall, beautiful, radiant young woman of about twenty-two years old was walking along, carrying a basket on her head. She wasn’t looking at anyone or anything, only focusing on the narrow grassy path she followed. Suddenly, from behind, she heard someone shout loudly:
“AMATULLAH! AMATU, STOP!”
She stopped without turning around until the caller caught up, breathing lightly, and said, “Amatu, have you started going deaf? I’ve been calling you for a while now.”
With a beautiful, gentle smile on her face, Amatu turned, revealing her large white eyes, and replied in a sweet voice, “Haba Fatima, you know I wouldn’t ignore you.”
Fatima sighed and said, “But I want to ask you something.” She looked at her closely, surprised by the glow and smile on Amatu’s face. “This smile shows that something made you really happy—am I right?”
Amatu laughed softly and said, “You see, I’m in a hurry. I’m going to Baba’s place. Leave it—when I come back, I’ll tell you.”
Fatima nodded. “Actually, I came to walk with you.”
“Alright then, let’s go.”
They walked on together. Fatima’s curiosity only grew as she watched the excitement on her friend’s face. Unable to hold it in any longer, she said, “Amatu, please tell me, what made you this happy?”
Amatu sighed and said, “Do you know what surprised me? I had a strange dream that I can’t explain. What should I even call it? Tell me, Fatima. I can’t fully believe it—I thought it was just a joke, but it’s beyond my imagination. Almost every dream I have looks the same. Please advise me, I need help.”
Fatima frowned slightly and said, “Amatu, I don’t really understand you. You’re speaking in riddles. Calm down and explain properly—it’s like you’re in some kind of state.”
“Yes, Fati, I am in a state. Last night, I dreamt—”
Fatima interrupted her with wide eyes. “A dream? May Allah make it a good one!”
They were close to Amatu’s farm when Amatu said, “My friend, you don’t let a conversation flow. I haven’t even said anything yet.”
Fatima laughed. “True. I’ll keep quiet and listen.”
“No, we’ve already arrived. Let’s go in—when we leave, I’ll tell you.”
Just as Fatima was about to speak, they heard Baba’s voice calling out, “My daughter, where did you stop? You left me worried. I even thought your fever had come back.”
Amatu looked at him briefly, then turned her face aside as tears threatened to fall. With a trembling voice, she said, “Yes, Baba, I feel better now. Umma sent food for you.”
“My daughter, may Allah bless you. Aishatu, come quickly—there’s food. Leave the work for now.”
They gathered under a mango tree in the farm and sat down. Amatu stayed aside, watching them and wiping away tears of pity for her father and siblings, making sure they didn’t see her. After they finished eating and were about to return to work, she stood up to help them, but her father stopped her.
“My daughter, what do you want to do?”
Respectfully, she replied, “I want to help you finish the work.”
He shook his head. “No, my daughter. Go home, you’re not well. May Allah ease things for you. Don’t worry.”
She sighed softly and said, “Alright, Baba. I’ll be going then.”
“Okay, my daughter. May Allah bless your life.”
Feeling happy at his prayer, she replied, “Amin, Baba. Thank you.”
She turned toward Fatima, who was waiting, and together they left the farm, walking down the path.
Impatiently, Fatima said, “Amatu, I’m tired of waiting. You still haven’t told me about the dream.”
Amatu looked at her. “I said I’ll tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
Amatu took another deep breath before slowly beginning:
“Fatima, I dreamt that I was in a very beautiful place filled with plants and flowers of many colors. I was wearing a bright white cloak, my feet decorated with henna, and I had beautiful, expensive shoes on. I wore a gold necklace, my face fully made up. On both sides of me were attendants, and behind me were more servants, all standing before I arrived.
He was standing in front of a place where water was flowing, surrounded by colorful flowers. I reached him quietly from behind without him noticing. I stepped onto a stone to match his height and placed my hands over his eyes. I heard him laugh softly before he held my hands, opened his eyes, and turned to me. He lifted me up from the stone and placed me on a soft, decorated carpet filled with beautiful ornaments and drinks I had never seen before.
We sat down. He embraced me and, in his sweet voice, said, ‘Among all the women I love, there is none like you. I wish we could be together.’
I smiled, and my smile caught his attention so much that he touched my beauty spots. As I opened my mouth to speak, he leaned forward and placed his lips on mine. That was when I heard Umma waking up, and the dream ended. I couldn’t continue it. After the dawn prayer, I went back to sleep hoping to continue from where it stopped, but it was in vain—I didn’t see the dream again.”
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-920512585989.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-523353161230.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-108728368255.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-949891906361.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-596280087818.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-173293332745.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-880926466422.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-893168548926.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-936868186146.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-734427937651.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-885497082027.webp)
![<? $row['name']; ?>](https://hausanovels.net.ng/Public/thumb/225x325/ebook/2026/01/thumb-898860904759.webp)
It was the rainy season. The atmosphere of the town was always cloudy, with lush green grass covering everywhere the eye could see. The farmland was very productive in this area, which was a small village crowded with people of different backgrounds. Everywhere you looked, people were busy on their farms, working hard.
A fair-skinned man was busy cutting millet with a sharp knife. From time to time, he glanced at the road and at the three young girls helping him with the work. When he didn’t see what he was hoping for, he fell silent, stood upright, and held his lower back as if in pain. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked at the girls, saying:
“Aishatu, where exactly did your mother stop? She still hasn’t come, and we’ve done such heavy work. Is it that fever again today?”
He asked as he sat down, extremely tired. Just one look at him was enough to know that poverty had completely settled into his life. Aisha, the one he had called, lifted her head. She was soaked in sweat too, clearly exhausted and hungry, and replied:
“Wallahi, Baba, I don’t know. By the time we left, I didn’t see her. But maybe Asma’u saw her.”
Asma’u shook her head and said, “No, I didn’t meet her either.”
The man nodded his head and said, “It’s the will of Allah. May Allah grant her good health. I’m worried because of that stubborn fever that refuses to go away. All the little money I had is finished—nothing at home, nothing outside. When you don’t have money, people just look at you as if you don’t exist. May Allah cover our shortcomings.”
He spoke with deep worry, then stood up, picked up his knife, and returned to work. His children followed him with pity in their eyes, because they knew their father—whenever he had something, he never deprived his family and always provided for them. But now, there was simply nothing.
A tall, beautiful, radiant young woman of about twenty-two years old was walking along, carrying a basket on her head. She wasn’t looking at anyone or anything, only focusing on the narrow grassy path she followed. Suddenly, from behind, she heard someone shout loudly:
“AMATULLAH! AMATU, STOP!”
She stopped without turning around until the caller caught up, breathing lightly, and said, “Amatu, have you started going deaf? I’ve been calling you for a while now.”
With a beautiful, gentle smile on her face, Amatu turned, revealing her large white eyes, and replied in a sweet voice, “Haba Fatima, you know I wouldn’t ignore you.”
Fatima sighed and said, “But I want to ask you something.” She looked at her closely, surprised by the glow and smile on Amatu’s face. “This smile shows that something made you really happy—am I right?”
Amatu laughed softly and said, “You see, I’m in a hurry. I’m going to Baba’s place. Leave it—when I come back, I’ll tell you.”
Fatima nodded. “Actually, I came to walk with you.”
“Alright then, let’s go.”
They walked on together. Fatima’s curiosity only grew as she watched the excitement on her friend’s face. Unable to hold it in any longer, she said, “Amatu, please tell me, what made you this happy?”
Amatu sighed and said, “Do you know what surprised me? I had a strange dream that I can’t explain. What should I even call it? Tell me, Fatima. I can’t fully believe it—I thought it was just a joke, but it’s beyond my imagination. Almost every dream I have looks the same. Please advise me, I need help.”
Fatima frowned slightly and said, “Amatu, I don’t really understand you. You’re speaking in riddles. Calm down and explain properly—it’s like you’re in some kind of state.”
“Yes, Fati, I am in a state. Last night, I dreamt—”
Fatima interrupted her with wide eyes. “A dream? May Allah make it a good one!”
They were close to Amatu’s farm when Amatu said, “My friend, you don’t let a conversation flow. I haven’t even said anything yet.”
Fatima laughed. “True. I’ll keep quiet and listen.”
“No, we’ve already arrived. Let’s go in—when we leave, I’ll tell you.”
Just as Fatima was about to speak, they heard Baba’s voice calling out, “My daughter, where did you stop? You left me worried. I even thought your fever had come back.”
Amatu looked at him briefly, then turned her face aside as tears threatened to fall. With a trembling voice, she said, “Yes, Baba, I feel better now. Umma sent food for you.”
“My daughter, may Allah bless you. Aishatu, come quickly—there’s food. Leave the work for now.”
They gathered under a mango tree in the farm and sat down. Amatu stayed aside, watching them and wiping away tears of pity for her father and siblings, making sure they didn’t see her. After they finished eating and were about to return to work, she stood up to help them, but her father stopped her.
“My daughter, what do you want to do?”
Respectfully, she replied, “I want to help you finish the work.”
He shook his head. “No, my daughter. Go home, you’re not well. May Allah ease things for you. Don’t worry.”
She sighed softly and said, “Alright, Baba. I’ll be going then.”
“Okay, my daughter. May Allah bless your life.”
Feeling happy at his prayer, she replied, “Amin, Baba. Thank you.”
She turned toward Fatima, who was waiting, and together they left the farm, walking down the path.
Impatiently, Fatima said, “Amatu, I’m tired of waiting. You still haven’t told me about the dream.”
Amatu looked at her. “I said I’ll tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
Amatu took another deep breath before slowly beginning:
“Fatima, I dreamt that I was in a very beautiful place filled with plants and flowers of many colors. I was wearing a bright white cloak, my feet decorated with henna, and I had beautiful, expensive shoes on. I wore a gold necklace, my face fully made up. On both sides of me were attendants, and behind me were more servants, all standing before I arrived.
He was standing in front of a place where water was flowing, surrounded by colorful flowers. I reached him quietly from behind without him noticing. I stepped onto a stone to match his height and placed my hands over his eyes. I heard him laugh softly before he held my hands, opened his eyes, and turned to me. He lifted me up from the stone and placed me on a soft, decorated carpet filled with beautiful ornaments and drinks I had never seen before.
We sat down. He embraced me and, in his sweet voice, said, ‘Among all the women I love, there is none like you. I wish we could be together.’
I smiled, and my smile caught his attention so much that he touched my beauty spots. As I opened my mouth to speak, he leaned forward and placed his lips on mine. That was when I heard Umma waking up, and the dream ended. I couldn’t continue it. After the dawn prayer, I went back to sleep hoping to continue from where it stopped, but it was in vain—I didn’t see the dream again.”