Mummunan Zato 1 Complete Hausa Novel

He entered the house full of joy, saying, “Where is the mother of the children of this house?” From inside, she answered, “Here, sir.” He went into the kitchen. She was standing, preparing the sorrel drink, while Aisha was arranging bowls to serve the food. She greeted him, “Hello, Father.” He replied, “Ah, the friend of their mother,” then looked at Umma and said, “I have an important guest.” She looked at him attentively, asking, “From where?”

He widened his smile. “You’ll be surprised if I tell you it’s Alhaji Sadiq Usman K.T.” She laughed in astonishment. “Indeed, we have a very important guest today. I will make sure to welcome your Alhaji Sadiq properly.” He turned and said, “Come, let’s go to my living room.” She replied, “Okay.”

She took the portion of food from Aisha’s hand and said, “Bring it here so I can serve them. Bring them something cool to drink before I serve the food, alright?” Aisha replied, “Okay, Umma,” and went to prepare the items on a tray—some slightly chilled sorrel and four glasses of chilled soft drink.

She greeted Father in the living room. They were busy chatting about when they last met, answering her warmly. She went to the table, placed the tray, and gently pulled the table closer to them. She knelt on the floor and poured the sorrel into the glasses, saying to the guest, “Uncle, how are you?”

He looked at her. “I’m fine, young lady.” He frowned slightly and asked, “How is your study?”

She said, “Alhamdulillah. How about your journey?” He replied, “It was fine. What’s your name?” She stood, handed them the sorrel, and said, “My name is Aisha.”

He looked at Father and asked, “Now, how many children do you have, Mustapha?” Father replied cheerfully, “We have four.” Aisha left and returned with the food. Umma followed her happily as they entered, greeting Alhaji Sadiq Usman, a respected man of K.T. She sat down to serve them food, saying, “Today I see Alhaji Sadiq K.T. himself.”

Alhaji Sadiq looked at Father and said, “Friend, you always keep me informed, don’t you?”

“Very much so,” Father said, “You are truly unforgettable.”

They laughed.

Lying in the guesthouse in Dutse, Alhaji Sadiq was deep in thought. There was no doubt in his mind that Aisha, Mustapha’s daughter, was the girl he always saw in his Istikhara dreams. Malam Mamuda had told him that she was the mother of his children.

Now he remembered a conversation with Malam Mamuda, who informed him that the girl who would bear his child was in a town far from Katsina. In his Istikhara, he thought there would be obstacles there, but he knew the problems would not go beyond what fate had destined for any woman he married. He also knew that no one would agree to give their daughter in marriage to him unless they knew who Alhaji Sadiq K.T. was.

He stood up and returned to his room in the guesthouse. Should he tell his trusted friend about his problem? If he did, would his friend agree to give him Aisha’s hand in marriage? What should he do now? He performed ablution in the toilet, came out, removed his sleeping clothes, put on his jalabiya, and sought Allah’s guidance in prayer, asking for a solution to his concerns. In his sleep, he had seen the girl sitting with two other children who looked good and resembled him.

In the morning, he left wearing a white Boubou (broad robe) and a slightly oversized white cap. His shoes were inside-out white, and his scent already filled the air.

Alhaji Sadiq was a handsome Hausa man, tall, well-built, and charismatic. His skin had a healthy glow from regular care, and his presence exuded authority. He headed toward his friend’s house, which was not far from the mosque by the roadside.

Aisha, dressed in a long hijab, stopped at the roadside. He lowered his car window and asked, “Where are you going, Aisha?” She looked toward the car and smiled slightly.

“Good morning, Uncle. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Aisha. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Hadda.”

“Where is your father?”

“He’s home. I just heard he said he’ll come to your place.”

“Alright, come in, I’ll take you.”

“It’s not far, Uncle, and the place is in a narrow area; a car can’t get in—only a motorcycle.”

He handed her a new five hundred naira note. “Take the motorcycle.”

“No, keep it. Abba gave it to me.”

“Okay, accept it,” she said, then added, “Thank you.” He started the car and drove off.

She was traveling, but her mind was full of thoughts about the gift he had given them yesterday—fifty thousand naira—yet he hadn’t brought them sweets. Truly, Uncle was kind and had impressed her, especially with the help he gave her father. May Allah bless him with children. She considered his intentions carefully, noting how he had shown interest in helping them.