Harijin Miji Complete Hausa Novel by Maman Shakur

Description

Vacation and the Journey to Kukawa

Time flies quickly in the eyes of the Almighty. It feels like just yesterday we entered the university, yet here we are, having completed our first semester. We began preparing to return home for the holidays, filled with joy as we said goodbye to our roommates. Everyone went their separate ways, and Chudunma and Blessing traveled back to their respective hometowns.

We arrived home in high spirits. Hajjiya Iklima was ecstatic to see us and expressed how much she had missed us. We hugged her tightly, mirroring her happiness. Daddy was also deeply pleased to see how settled and focused we were on our studies. That day, we were treated like royalty, with everyone catering to our every whim.

After spending a week at home, we informed Hajjiya Iklima—whom I now call "Mummy" because she has shown me the kind of care and affection that only a biological mother could give—that I intended to visit our village, Kukawa, to see Gwoggo. Without making any prior phone calls, Shareefa and I abruptly set off on our journey to the village of Kukawa.

Arrival in Kukawa

The weather was overcast, threatening rain, as we entered the village. The wind howled softly as we walked, carrying our traveling bags and handbags. We looked stunning, both dressed identically in black abayas paired with white shoes and matching bags. Shareefa has a beautiful chocolate complexion, while I am naturally very fair. I had gotten even lighter, gained some healthy weight, and looked radiant—the kind of beauty that catches everyone's eye.

We walked along, chatting happily, until we neared the street where Gwoggo lived. A black car was about to pass beside us, so I stepped aside, but the vehicle pulled over. The driver rolled down his window and said:

"Hello, young ladies. How are you? It looks like you just arrived in town."

I turned to look at him and replied sharply, "What is it, mister? Is everything okay that you're stopping us with all these questions? Do you even know us?"

He smiled, revealing his bright white teeth, and said, "You are exactly as you've always been. I thought you might have changed. Oh, you have changed because you've grown up, but that sharp tongue of yours hasn't changed at all!"

Shareefa interjected, "We just arrived in town and we are in a hurry, but it seems like you know her?"

"Yes! Very well, actually. She is our Deejee, the daughter of Gwoggo. The type who bites back when provoked, so it's best to leave her in peace!"

I looked at him again, smiled, and said, "You certainly seem to know me. But let's leave that aside until we get home. It looks like this storm isn't going to clear up up there."

"Alright, no problem. I am also just heading in," he said, driving down the street. We followed on foot but stopped in our tracks when we noticed that our old family house had been demolished and replaced with a modern two-story building.

Seeing us standing there, a man stepped out from near the building, grinning widely.

"Ah, welcome! A very warm welcome to the city dwellers!"

I turned, looked at him, and immediately recognized him. "Salisu! Why does our house look like this? Where is Gwoggo?"

Hearing my question, he flashed a wide grin like a stallion and said, "Ah, a big dispute happened. You know it’s an inherited family property, and suddenly the rightful owners came..."

I raised my hand to cut him off and said, "You haven't changed at all; you love gossip. I didn't ask you to give me the history of other people's houses. I simply asked: where is Gwoggo?"

He scratched his head, smiling sheepishly. "Deeje, so you're still as fierce as ever! Gwoggo moved to the doctor's house; she is staying there with the men."

I turned to Shareefa and said, "Let's go, she is at Ya Auwal's house."

We left him standing there and headed to Ya Auwal's residence. As we called out our greetings at the entrance, Gwoggo recognized my voice instantly. She was just coming out of the bathroom holding a plastic kettle (buta). Overjoyed, she exclaimed:

"Whose voice am I hearing? It sounds just like Deeje's!"

I stepped forward, laughing, and hugged her tightly. "Welcome back, my dear old woman!"

She laughed along with us, saying, "So it's really you! Welcome, welcome... Come inside, girls. How is Hajjiya?"

Shareefa stepped forward and said, "She is doing well, Gwoggo. They all send their warmest regards." We walked onto the veranda just as Ya Auwal's wife emerged. Seeing us, she welcomed us warmly:

"Ah, city people! Welcome, welcome. Please come inside." She ushered us into the living room, laid out a mat for us to sit on, and brought us water. After drinking and resting, I asked Gwoggo, "When did you move to this house? We went to the old house and saw a new building there."

"The landlord's son evicted us, Deeje. He claimed it was his inherited property. So, Auwal insisted I move in here with him and gave me that room over there to stay in."

Oh, poor Gwoggo. It broke my heart to know that all these hardships happened because of me, but no matter—one day, this will all just be a distant memory.

Just then, we heard Ya Auwal calling out as he walked in. "So the city people arrived without any notice! Really, Deejee, you didn't do well by keeping it a secret."

I smiled and replied, "Ya Auwal, we just decided to come suddenly on a whim. I hope everyone is doing well?"

"We are perfectly fine, Deeje. How are your guardians at home? I hope they are well."

"They are doing great, Ya Auwal."

Ya Auwal allocated a separate room for us, where our bags were kept, and that is where we spent the night.

The Return to the City

We spent a week in Kukawa visiting various places. I even took Shareefa to the village head's orchard, where I recounted some of the silly things I used to do back then, making her laugh heartily. After walking around extensively, we headed back. As we approached the house, we found the same man from the other day standing outside Ya Auwal's door. Seeing us, he smiled warmly. We walked up to him, and he said:

"Hello, young ladies."

"Hello," we replied. I added, "I hope all is well, mister? Or did we commit an offense that made you follow us here?"

He smiled. "Everything is fine, you haven't committed any offense. I was just surprised that you didn't recognize me, even though I recognized you instantly. But I know you couldn't have completely forgotten Bello, the son of the Yoruba man, whom you used to treat so dismissively whenever he came to buy bean cakes (kosai)..."

My eyes widened in shock as I stared at him. Only then did it hit me—it really was him! Of course I hadn't recognized him initially; he had grown fairer, stouter, and had even developed a prominent potbelly.

"Oh wow! I recognize you now. So it's really you, Bello!"

He smiled, folding his arms across his chest. "Yes, it's me, Deeje."

"Well, we are just returning from a stroll and are heading inside now. Extend our greetings to your family," I said, grabbing Shareefa’s hand as we went into the house.

Bello stood there for a moment before walking away, marvelling at how beautiful and physically mature Deeje had become. He realized that this time around, she was truly stunning, though it seemed she still harbored her old aversion to romance.

Part 2: The Royal Palace of King Ahmadu

Meanwhile, at the palace, Prince Maheer prepared to visit Princess Yusrah. Dressed in magnificent royal attire, he was flanked by twelve royal guards (dogarai). They set off in a convoy of eight luxury cars loaded with extravagant and high-end gifts. By royal custom, whenever a prince goes courting a king's daughter, such premium gifts are presented as a sign of deep respect.

The cars drove in an orderly line onto the highway, embarking on a four-hour journey to the Kingdom of King Shua'ib. Upon their arrival, the palace guards opened the massive gates. "Masha Allah!" the guards whispered among themselves, awestruck by the sheer opulence of this stunning, highly decorated palace. The court attendants were uniformly dressed in beautiful green and maroon attire.

As Prince Maheer’s car parked, a luxurious carpet was rolled out, stretching all the way to the pavilion prepared for his reception. The outdoor seating area was beautifully adorned with white and blue flowers, creating a truly spectacular sight.

Prince Maheer stepped out of his vehicle with an elegant, aristocratic posture. He glanced around the venue and shook his head lightly, realizing the extravagant setup was entirely intentional. Deliberately bypassing the rolled-out carpet, he walked straight into the palace court to pay his respects to King Shua'ib. This gesture surprised many, as high-ranking visitors usually skipped the main court until after their scheduled meetings, but Prince Maheer prioritized paying his respects first. He was then escorted back to the beautifully arranged pavilion. However, none of the opulence impressed him; to him, the material world and its contents meant very little. He looked at the gifts one by one, smiling inwardly, knowing that a kingdom of this stature was capable of doing even more.

Presently, Princess Yusrah approached, walking with an arrogant air as though she disdained the very ground she stepped on, keeping her gaze strictly upward. She was a tall, striking "black beauty," radiating a polished glow born of immense wealth and power, with medium-sized eyes and a well-sculpted nose.

A car brought her directly to the pavilion. She stepped out and walked up the steps to meet him. Glancing at the seating area, she spoke with a faint, reluctant drawl, as if it pained her to open her mouth:

"What kind of disrespect and incompetence is this? Am I expected to sit on a chair covered in filth and dust?"

Before she could finish her sentence, one of her personal guards rushed forward to clean it. She stopped him instantly, commanding:

"Take off your shirt and use it to wipe it clean. That is the only way you will escape the punishment I intend to give you."

As the guard began to strip off his shirt to clean the chair, Prince Maheer stood up, thoroughly displeased.

"What kind of cruelty is this? How can you force him to wipe a chair with the very clothes he uses to perform his prayers?"

Princess Yusrah raised her hand toward the Prince, dismissively turning her head away. "Do not raise your voice at me. Learn to stay in your place."

Without uttering another word, the guard wiped the chair clean with his shirt, put it back on, and bowed deeply.

"May Allah appease the anger of Princess Yusrah!" he muttered.

She sat down with immense arrogance. Prince Maheer gestured to his guards to present the gifts he had brought. As they laid them out in front of her, she merely glanced at them and looked away. Prince Maheer watched her, shrugged, and said:

"Just as we did not bestow royalty upon ourselves, these people did not choose to make themselves servants. Every human being possesses inherent dignity. Treating others with contempt will never lead you down a good path."

"Just say whatever brought you here instead of preaching to me. This is who I am, and I will not change."

He flashed a bitter, tight smile. "If you pride yourself on power, know that those who held far greater power in the past are now long gone. If it is wealth you pride yourself on, wealth can only take you so far. Drop your arrogance early and follow the path of Allah..."

He suddenly fell silent as he remembered the mysterious village girl who had once spoken those exact words to him. He sighed deeply. Overwhelmed with frustration by the encounter, he abruptly stood up and walked back to his car. His guard rushed to open the door, and the convoy quickly exited the palace.

After driving for about an hour, the Prince ordered the convoy to stop so the crew could eat and rest before continuing the long journey. Joyfully, the guards pulled over at a rest stop; they ate and drank near the cars, while Prince Maheer declined any food, stating he only wanted to rest.

Leaning back with his eyes closed, Prince Maheer sank into deep thought. The mysterious girl had been absolutely right—power was nothing but a burden and a source of constant anxiety. Power could easily lead a person to ruin if not handled righteously. Where can I find that girl whose name I don't even know? he wondered.

After resting, they resumed their journey, arriving back at their kingdom just as the Maghrib prayer approached. The Prince immediately went to see his father. The King welcomed him warmly with a bright smile.

"I thought you would spend the night there. I didn't expect you back so soon."

Forcing a faint smile, Maheer replied, "Yes, Father."

"I hope everything went well?" the King asked.

"Alhamdulillah," Maheer muttered, standing up to take his leave. He returned to his private wing, deeply vexed by Princess Yusrah's behavior. He wondered if this was exactly how that mysterious village girl felt when she spoke the truth to him. Closing his eyes as memories of their encounter washed over him, he softly whispered to himself:

"Impossible."

He stood up, went into the bathroom to freshen up, performed his prayers, and then went to visit Diddi (his grandmother). She welcomed him joyfully. He sat down near her, and she asked:

"I'm glad you're back, Maheer. How was your day?"

"Fine. Just a bit exhausted from the road. I hope you liked the girl?"

He scratched his neck and wrinkled his face playfully like a spoiled child. In front of Diddi, he was always relaxed, prone to whining and acting simple; but the moment he stepped out of her room, he instantly reverted to his serious, regal princely demeanor.

"Honestly, Diddi, I didn't like her character at all. She lacks good manners."

"Hmmm, I knew it would turn out like this, Maheer. May Allah guide you. I honestly wonder when you will ever get married!" Diddi said, thoroughly displeased. She turned her back on him in frustration.

He moved closer and gently touched her shoulder, realizing he had genuinely upset her. In a soothing tone, he comforted her:

"Diddi, it's not that I don't want to get married. I am simply looking for a virtuous woman—someone who understands the sanctity of marriage, respects human dignity, and will never tire of taking care of you. You know how much I love you, my sweet Diddi!"

Her expression softened slightly, and she murmured, "Well, Maheer, I just want to see your offspring before I leave this world..."

He cut her off quickly. "Please, Diddi, don't talk like that. You will definitely live to see my children, by God's grace." He continued to soothe her until she was completely calm, after which he left her room and headed back to his quarters.

Meanwhile, Hajjiya Ummah emerged from her hiding spot where she had been eavesdropping.

"We shall see about that!" she muttered maliciously. "As long as Abdul Maleek does not return to take his rightful place in this palace, there is no way the Prince will get married. Maleek must be served first!" Hissing loudly, she walked back to her wing, plotting how to deal with Diddi. She was entirely fed up with the old woman's constant shielding of Maheer, which allowed him to do as he pleased. Soon, I will untie this knot, she thought to herself.

Back in his room, Maheer lay on his massive bed, closing his eyes as he drifted into a sea of thoughts about the mysterious village girl. He wondered what condition she was in and prayed she had reached home safely. Wrapped in those thoughts, he fell asleep.

Part 3: Academic Excellence and Medical Emergency

Back in Kukawa Village:

I was lying down in our room after we had finished our morning chores and eaten breakfast. Ever since we arrived, Shareefa and I had taken over all the household chores from Ya Auwal's wife. She initially protested, telling us to rest, but eventually gave up and let us be. I turned to look at Shareefa, who was busy chatting on her phone, and said:

"You know, we really should start heading back to the city to prepare for the resumption of school. The holidays are almost over."

"Yeah, that's true. Yesterday, when Daddy called, he even jokingly asked if we planned to settle down permanently here in Kukawa village," Shareefa replied without looking up from her phone.

"By the way, what was Fauziyya telling you yesterday?" I asked, sitting up.

I smiled and teased her, "Do you want to hear the story? But you're busy chatting. Choose one: the gossip or your phone!"

She sat up instantly, abandoning her phone. "What choice do I have? I have to drop the chatting to hear the juicy details!"

I laughed and explained, "She was telling me that we are completely at peace with each other now, since whatever happened between us was just childhood drama. She said it's all in the past. She also told me that most of our childhood friends are married and have relocated to the city. She herself is getting married soon and moving to the city as well. I wished them a peaceful marriage."

"Wow, God is great! That's life for you. I honestly thought she was trying to start another conflict," Shareefa said, shrugging her shoulders.

I smiled. "Tell me about it..." Shareefa burst into a fit of laughter, clapping her hands.

"Do you know something?" she asked.

I smiled. "May Allah guide you, Shareefa. I don't know unless you tell me."

"Hmm, it's Salisu. He cracks me up with the way he is trying so hard to show he is in love with you. Did you see how ridiculously overdressed he was yesterday? He looked like a madman!"

"Humph, Shareefa, if it's Salisu, he is capable of doing worse than that."

We continued our banter until a neighborhood boy came in to inform me that I had a visitor outside. I stood up, walked to the front door, and found Bello standing there with his hands folded behind his back and his head lowered. He hadn't brought his car this time. I walked up to him and asked:

"Are you the one who sent for me?"

He slowly raised his head, a warm smile gracing his face. "Yes, Deejee. I came to get my answer. Will you accept me as your lover?"

I sighed softly. "Bello, you know I am currently a student, and I cannot divide my attention between my studies and a relationship right now. My advice to you is to find someone else."

Bello wasn't surprised; he knew that if it was Deeje, she was capable of giving an even harsher rejection. He looked at me and said, "It's alright. I will keep calling and waiting for you until you finish your education."

I smiled politely. "May God spare our lives until then."

"Ameen," he replied, taking his leave.

I returned inside and told Shareefa, who remarked, "Well, he seems determined..."

Just then, Gwoggo walked into the room. After we greeted her, she said, "Deejee, Auwal is at his shop. He said you both should meet him there."

"Alright, Gwoggo." We got ready and went to see him. He gave us some money to buy provisions for school, mentioning that the Principal had sent word that we were expected back the following day. We accepted the money gratefully, even though we didn't really have anything left to buy, and returned home to pack our bags.

At night, I went to Gwoggo's room and found her lying down. I sat beside her and asked, "Gwoggo, why are you turning in so early? Are you feeling unwell?"

Gwoggo sat up and looked at me. "Deeje, I would honestly prefer it if you got married and continued your education from your husband's house. That way, your mind would be at ease. You know, Deeje, we have no one in this world except Allah and this blessed boy, Auwal. If it weren't for him, we would have been thoroughly humiliated and destitute by now..."

My heart grew heavy, and I said, "Gwoggo, I am terrified of history repeating itself. I promise you that won't happen. Besides, I don't have a suitor right now. My main focus is my studies, and I made a solemn promise to the Principal. I will never disappoint you or him. Just keep me in your prayers. Once I graduate and secure a job, I will bring you to live with me in the city."

Gwoggo sighed. "A child will always be a child. May Allah protect you and grant you success. It is well; may God spare our lives to see that day."

"Ameen, my Gwoggo." We chatted until she drifted off to sleep.

With a heavy heart, I stepped out into the courtyard and saw Ya Auwal standing there, gazing up at the bright full moon. Hearing my footsteps, he turned to look at me. As I tried to pass by quietly, he called my name. I walked over to him and asked, "Ya Auwal, is everything alright? Why aren't you asleep yet?"

In a calm, measured voice, he said, "Deejee, we are here today, but tomorrow we might be gone. This world must be navigated carefully, and we must sow seeds of goodness if we wish to reap a bountiful harvest. As a young woman living under the care of people who are not your biological parents, you must be focused, deeply reflective about life, and mindful of your words. Remember, anyone who did not give birth to you will never truly love you like their own child!"

Ya Auwal’s words pierced my heart. A cold shiver ran through me as I turned his words over in my mind, unable to fully decode the riddle behind his cryptic, bundled advice.

I asked anxiously, "Ya Auwal, did I do something wrong?"

He took a slow, deep breath. "No, Deeje. It’s just words of advice. The cry of youth is a message that only the wise can fully comprehend." With that, he turned and went to his room, leaving me to return to my room with a heavy heart.

The Next Morning

We had to catch the early morning commercial bus, so we woke up very early to ensure we didn't miss it. After getting ready, we sadly said our goodbyes to the household. Ya Auwal escorted us all the way to the bus station, saw us safely onto the vehicle, and we began our journey back to the city.

The journey took roughly two to three hours. Within fifteen minutes of arriving in the city, we were back home. We ran to sit next to Hajjiya Iklima, overjoyed to see her. She was equally thrilled, welcoming us warmly and setting up a magnificent reception feast on the dining table. However, we chose to rest and take a shower before eating.

When the Principal returned home, we went to his private wing to greet him. He asked about the well-being of the people in the village, and we assured him they were doing well and sent their regards. Afterward, I went back to our room and called Ya Auwal to inform him that we had arrived safely.

We didn't spend much time at home before returning to campus to resume our studies. This time, we girded our loins and buried ourselves in our books, completely eliminating play. Chudunma, Blessing, Shareefa, and I became inseparable, going everywhere together. Since Chudunma and Blessing were the top students in the Department of Nutrition (N.U.T.), I learned a vast amount from them. By the time we completed Year 1 and transitioned to Year 2, I had become highly skilled in medical nutrition and preparing dietary plans for patients. By Year 3, I had completely outpaced the other students, taking the lead in all academic activities. Since the majority of the students in the Nutrition Department were Christians and the few Muslims were mostly men, I stood out prominently among the female students.

By graduation, my name was on everyone's lips—any academic event or acknowledgment prominently featured Khadeeja Ibraheem. At that point, we embarked on our three-month mandatory Industrial Training (I.T.) at various hospitals. We were split up; some were posted to hotels, including Blessing. Chudunma and I were posted to the same hospital.

I returned home alone this time because Shareefa was still at her campus. After staying at home for a week, I began commuting to a nursing home hospital. It was quite a distance away, but I persevered for a month before being reassigned to the Umar Shehu Hospital. It was there that I finally began practicing my profession with utter peace of mind and tranquility.

Back at the Royal Palace of King Ahmadu

Hajjiya Zulai arrived at the palace to meet with Hajjiya Ummah. Together, they plotted a strategy to force Prince Abdul Maleek to return and permanently reside at the palace. They confidently asserted that with his arrival this time around, Prince Maheer would be utterly ruined and humiliated, to the point where he would curse the day he was born. Hajjiya Ummah handed a massive sum of money to Hajjiya Zulai to travel to the southern part of the country, specifically to procure powerful dark magic from potent witch doctors, as their previous spiritualists had failed to deliver the desired results. With the funds secured, Hajjiya Zulai departed.

Ever since Prince Maheer woke up that morning, he felt completely drained and unable to leave his room. He remained curled up under a massive duvet on his bed, trying to stay warm while brooding over the toxic demeanor of Princess Yusrah—how she was consumed by materialism, arrogance, and vanity.

"Tchah!" he hissed in disgust, throwing off the covers. He marched into the bathroom, took a shower, and dressed in simple, casual clothes. Skipping breakfast entirely, he walked over to Diddi's quarters.

The moment he walked in, he froze in shock. Diddi was in a terrible state. Terrified, he rushed to her side and asked what was wrong. Struggling to breathe, she gasped out painfully:

"My body... I feel completely empty... I couldn't sleep a wink last night..."

Before she could finish her sentence, her voice failed her, and she began gasping wildly for air. In a panic, Maheer scooped Diddi up into his arms, rushed out of the palace, and placed her into his car. He quickly alerted the King about the emergency, and the King assigned a security detail to escort them.

While speeding down the road, Maheer called his close friend, Dr. Kamal, frantically asking if he was currently at his private clinic or a public hospital. Dr. Kamal informed him that he was currently on duty at Umar Shehu Hospital and urged them to bring her there immediately so he could personally attend to her.

They arrived at the hospital in record time, and Diddi was rushed directly into the Emergency Room for immediate life-saving treatment. After a thorough medical examination, Dr. Kamal discovered that Diddi’s blood sugar levels had spiked dangerously due to a severe diabetic crisis, caused by her consuming foods that had been strictly prohibited by her doctors. He warned that if she did not strictly adhere to her dietary restrictions, she could lose her life.

Upon hearing the prognosis, Prince Maheer was deeply shaken and filled with immense distress. When he relayed the gravity of the situation to the King, the King frantically suggested flying Diddi out of the country for advanced medical treatment. However, Dr. Kamal reassured them, stating that there was no need to panic; the hospital was fully capable of managing the crisis and stabilizing her. He urged them to remain calm while they continued...

2. Summary

The narrative focuses on the parallel lives of Khadeeja (Deejee) and Prince Maheer, highlighting themes of academic perseverance, the burdens of royalty, and an impending collision of their worlds at a hospital.

Khadeeja's Journey: After completing her first semester at the university, Khadeeja and her friend Shareefa return to the city. Khadeeja later visits her village, Kukawa, to see her grandmother, Gwoggo. There, she discovers that family disputes led to Gwoggo's eviction from her ancestral home, forcing her to live with a relative, Ya Auwal. During her stay, Khadeeja encounters childhood acquaintances—Salisu, who loves to gossip, and Bello, a former bean-cake customer who has grown wealthy and unsuccessfuly proposes to her. Upon returning to the city, Khadeeja dedicates herself entirely to her studies in Medical Nutrition, graduating at the top of her class. She eventually begins her clinical practice at the Umar Shehu Hospital.
Prince Maheer's Royal Disillusionment: Prince Maheer travels to the kingdom of King Shua'ib to court the arrogant Princess Yusrah. Horrified by her cruelty—such as forcing a guard to clean a dusty chair with his prayer clothes—Maheer rebukes her and leaves. The encounter reinforces a lesson previously taught to him by a mysterious village girl (implicitly Khadeeja) about the emptiness of power. He returns to his kingdom disheartened, finding comfort only in his grandmother, Diddi.
Palace Intrigue and Medical Emergency: Within Maheer's palace, the villainous Hajjiya Ummah and Hajjiya Zulai plot Maheer's downfall by funding powerful dark magic from the South to bring back a rival prince, Abdul Maleek. Meanwhile, Maheer faces an immediate crisis when Diddi suffers a severe diabetic emergency due to poor dietary choices. In a frantic rush, Maheer transports her to the Umar Shehu Hospital, where his friend Dr. Kamal takes charge of the case, setting the stage for Maheer and Khadeeja to cross paths once again in a medical setting.