A Duniyata Book 2 Complete Hausa Novel
“Hustle until you no longer need to introduce yourself, push yourself because no one else is going to do it for you.”
Those were his last words to the gathering of prominent businessmen at their final meeting, where he intended to secure their shareholding in his new company, which was only seven days away from its launch. His words gripped the attention of everyone present, and with them the session came to an end.
As he exchanged farewells, more than half of his attention was fixed on his phone, which had been glowing for a while now. When the place thinned out, leaving only himself and four of his guards—this time traveling with him, though still at a distance—he calmly reached for his phone, exhaling warm breath as he did. Each movement carried a quiet joy, for the progress of his company’s launch filled him with gleaming hope and unmistakable signs of success. Never before had he tied his heart so firmly to anything. He didn’t even know why every thought, every ounce of his focus, was devoted to seeing this dream fulfilled.
For two straight hours he hadn’t had proper rest—except when night forced him to snatch a few hours of sleep. Every minute mattered to him. He had always been a man who valued time dearly.
Suddenly, the name Farouq flashed on his screen. Adjusting his posture, he muttered softly:
“Ya salam…” His face broke into that rare, enchanting smile that few ever had the privilege to witness. His smile carried a mystery—an elegance and aura that amplified the natural beauty God had blessed him with. He knew Farouq would only complain again, as he had promised countless times to call him back yet never did. In fact, he couldn’t even remember when last they had spoken on the phone.
“Don’t you have anything more important in your life than your business?” Farouq’s opening words came sharp.
He let out a hidden smile, stretched his long legs, and placed them on the polished table before him. Their bond was built on deep familiarity, so much that they could sense each other’s mood even without seeing one another’s face. He knew Farouq had more to say—his firm tone already hinted at annoyance.
“If you exclude my family… honestly, nothing matters more in my entire life.”
“What about your marriage? That young woman—where does she fit in your priorities?” Farouq pressed, unrelenting.
“Marriage? Young woman?” he repeated, genuinely puzzled, as if seeking clarification.
“Yes,” Farouq cut in, his voice carrying irritation, for he couldn’t believe this man had almost forgotten the wedding right before him.
Fu’ad chuckled faintly, running his hand through his hair. At that moment, his mind replayed what he had left behind in Nigeria, memories buried beneath his overwhelming focus on business.
“I’m sorry, you know how I—”
“…how men bewitched by a jinn behave,” Farouq interrupted sharply. “But alhamdulillah, this time we’ve got the upper hand. And God willing, my brother, you won’t die unmarried.”
That made Fu’ad burst into genuine laughter, something he hadn’t done in a long time. He couldn’t understand why everyone seemed so invested in his marriage. He noticed how seriously they all took it—yes, even MAAMAH, though he still doubted her sincerity. He knew well: a vulture never circles for nothing.
“Check your email. I’ve sent you something important. Look urgently.”
“Alright,” Fu’ad replied, ending the call.
He knew himself well—if he didn’t check now, he’d forget. So, without delay, he opened his email. Skipping over the new messages that caught his eye, he went straight to Farouq’s mail.
One by one, he viewed the images Farouq had sent. They were exquisite collections of men’s luxury ready-made outfits, produced by one of the world’s most prestigious fashion brands. Clothes only the wealthy and powerful could afford—those considered untouchables in wealth and influence.
The outfits were undeniably elegant, yet he didn’t know what to do with them. Still glued to the images, he called Farouq.
“I’m coming,” Farouq’s voice came, distracted by someone around him.
“Have you seen it?”
“Yes, I have. But what do I do with them? Or… have you already started preparing to launch a garment company?”
Farouq nearly choked in disbelief. Was this man truly forgetting that he had a wedding approaching? He had entrusted him with everything, but Fu’ad barely remembered or asked about it.
“By Allah, if you were close to me right now… have you really forgotten you’re marrying someone? You’ve already given her dowry! Is this memory loss or what?”
Fu’ad’s laughter echoed again. “Calm down, dude… is it really that serious?”
“It’s more than serious,” Farouq replied, his frustration clear.
“I’m sorry. But you know how it is… I’ve got too many important things ahead of me. You’re my representative everywhere. Whatever decisions need to be made—handle them. I’ve given you knife and meat together.”
Fu’ad’s calmness annoyed him even more, but he breathed deeply, letting the anger pass. They never held grudges for long. Once Farouq vented, it was over.
“Talk to Abdulghafar. For now, they should ease the tight security around the girl.”
“For what reason?” Fu’ad straightened, curious.
“I think she needs some breathing space. Of course, she’ll still need guards—given the country’s insecurity. But she’s part of us now. Anyone linked to us deserves protection.”
“Forget it, Farouq. She’ll be fine…” Fu’ad trailed off, clicking his tongue. He had never truly trusted her. Since her appearance at MAAMAH’s gathering, his suspicions had only deepened.
“Do you suspect her actions?” Farouq pressed.
“Forget that… let’s leave it. You’re not going to ask me about anything else?” Fu’ad redirected, clearly more at ease discussing business.
“Anything else? You mean your business—that’s all you care about?”
“What else is there to care about more than this?”
Farouq sighed heavily. He feared Fu’ad’s neglect might lead to disaster. His carelessness was dangerous. For a moment, he wanted to hang up, but he restrained himself—cutting Fu’ad off was the last thing he ever wanted.
Their discussion shifted back to the company’s progress. The endless talk of victories and what remained to be done only proved one thing—business ruled above all else. They spoke for nearly an hour before ending the call.
As he minimized the email, his eyes caught sight of a new address containing three fresh messages. He almost ignored them, but curiosity pushed him to open.
DUNIYATA – BOOK 2 – HUGUMA – PAGE 2
The messages demanded his full attention:
> Mr. Muhammad Jadda, you are hereby warned to stop all activities related to launching your company.
Calmly, he scrolled to the next:
> Not heeding this warning may put your personal and professional assets at risk.
Then the third:
> Ignoring this warning may lead to financial losses and reputational damage. Proceed with caution, as this may have unintended consequences.
His heart jolted. What kind of grave threat was this? From where did it emerge? Who stood behind it?
He had long known the truth: his line of business attracted rivals, adversaries—both visible and hidden. It was a position God had granted him at a young age, one many older than him had pursued for years without success.
Straightening his posture, he exhaled deeply. He could investigate the source, though it would be difficult to trace. And besides, this wasn’t the first time he’d received such warnings. Usually, they amounted to nothing.
Still, this one felt different. Perhaps because it had come at the very moment his dream was about to be realized.
Yet, just as he stood unshaken in stature, so was his heart unwavering. Nothing frightened him, nothing made him retreat from what he had set his mind to achieve. This message, too, he tossed into the pile of meaningless threats—irrelevant, weightless in his eyes.
