Abban Sojoji Book 3 Hausa Novel Complete
The ringing phone jolted Aunty Babba from her sleep as she lay on the bed, too groggy to move her fingers. Her face was tight with the weight of sleep when Ishaq, adjusting his posture in front of the mirror, turned to her and said, “Madam, get up and answer that call! It must be important; it's been ringing for a while.”
Aunty Babba groaned in frustration, dragging herself upright. She wore a purple sleep dress and pants, her face pale and weary. Reaching for the phone on the bedside drawer, her expression hardened as she saw the caller ID: Hayaam. Her pale face grew even paler. Picking up the phone, she sighed deeply and answered, “Why are you calling me, you shameless woman? Did you call to apologize for disgracing yourself and your father?”
On the other end, Hayaam's voice was calm. “Come on, Aunty Laila, I’ve already forgotten about our issues—”
Before she could finish, Aunty Babba cut her off sharply. “Forgot? Well, I haven’t! Tell the head of the house to call me, or I’ll hang up.”
Ishaq, observing her reaction, smirked and muttered, “Swearing like a witch—no shame at all. She’s always fighting for dominance. May God deliver me from this madness.”
Hayaam, now sounding worried, lowered her voice and said, “Aunty Laila, listen. Something serious has happened. All our plans have failed.”
Aunty Babba stiffened. Her tone softened slightly, betraying her anxiety. “What do you mean? What happened? What kind of problem are you talking about?”
“It’s about the girl who works in their house. She’s the daughter of their uncle, Abusufyan!”
The words hit Aunty Babba like a thunderclap. She gasped, her voice rising in disbelief. “What are you saying? Abusufyan? Married? Impossible! Who told you this nonsense? He’s a liar!”
Ishaq, puzzled by her outburst, turned to her. “Who’s this Abusufyan you’re yelling about?”
Realizing she had let too much slip, Aunty Babba looked away, visibly distressed. Forgetting Ishaq was in the room, she attempted to compose herself and walked toward the bathroom.
"Don’t take your phone into the toilet," Ishaq called after her.
Startled, she turned and headed toward the wardrobe instead, clearly disoriented. She slammed her forehead against it, snapping out of her confusion, and finally left the room in a flustered state. She descended the stairs and headed to an old storage room, locking herself inside as she continued the call.
"I swear, Aunty Laila, it’s true," Hayaam insisted. “I overheard their uncle telling Junaid everything. Even Aunty Azmee believed it. But here’s the shocker—the children are triplets. Beautiful, identical girls. There’s no doubt they’re his children.”
Aunty Babba clutched her head with one hand while gripping the phone with the other. Her voice trembled with anger and disbelief. “I will never believe this nonsense! A man who’s never been married suddenly has triplets? Impossible! You’re making up lies to scare me. If this is a joke, I won’t tolerate it!”
Feeling defeated and embarrassed, Hayaam hung up the call. Overwhelmed with sorrow, tears streamed down her face as her heart raced with regret.
Aunty Babba lowered the phone, muttering to herself, "She’s lying. I know she’s lying. She just wanted to rattle me." She shook her head in frustration.
Just then, Hafsat’s cheerful voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. “Mommy, you’re awake now!”
