Ajiya A Duhu Book 1 Complete Hausa Novel
The fates of life are like a PAINTING etched onto the paper of every human's life story. No matter how hard you try to erase or avoid them, it’s not guaranteed that you'll find the weapon to fight them off — let alone a SHIELD to protect yourself — whether they come briefly or repeatedly over the years. Sometimes we cry tears, but it's the silent CRY OF THE HEART that hurts the most, the kind that secretly or openly destroys our lives and achievements, and one we never seem to forget. Because sometimes, the scars it leaves behind are the kind we’ll remember again and again as time goes on.
From birth, our parents are our SHIELD, sacrificing everything they have just to wrap our LIVES in protection and love. They raise us with affection and certainty, and this is why their LOVE never fades from our HEARTS. It’s different from any other love that may come after. Even when they scold us and we cry from the pain, their love never changes in our HEARTS. They are one of a kind — like a thousand others — in everything surrounding us, whether in success or failure.
As we grow older, they age. While we’re surrounded by YOUTH, they are overtaken by OLD AGE. And that’s when you begin to grasp the meaning of BLACK and WHITE — of today and tomorrow. That’s when the book of your DESTINY starts, with the bold strokes of the lines defining your TRIALS. Life’s struggles become your companion or friend. But the battle isn’t just for the worldly life. It includes the hereafter — the fight to choose a good ending or otherwise. The beginning of adulthood starts with the balance of your deeds, both GOOD and BAD — all written and visible to your CREATOR. Our parents, after enduring the struggle of our youth, then move on to help us in our adulthood without ever tiring — because they are rare gems in our lives.
When one starts understanding themselves and affirming WHO THEY ARE, it’s rare to do so without the impact of young love creeping into your destiny. That love is not just a passing feeling or a separate entity for you or the person in your life. How did that LOVE BEGIN? Did it end? Does it still exist? Or does it continue to thrive? It becomes the mirror through which you evaluate your past and the silent witness of your story.
? Three young women were dressed in National Youth Service uniforms. They were standing by the roadside, each holding the handle of a rolling suitcase, clearly waiting for transport. They kept trying to stop a tricycle (Keke Napep), but most already had passengers, so it couldn’t carry all three of them at once. Slightly irritated, the one in the middle, who wasn’t very cheerful, raised her head to the sky, which was now cloudy. She was clearly hoping the rain wouldn't fall on them, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for her to handle. That’s why she was more concerned than the others about finding a ride — especially since their destination was far: they were heading to Kaduna State.
As the wind picked up, signaling incoming rain, she looked at her friends, her eyes filling with tears. Before she could say anything, a sleek car suddenly parked in front of them. All their eyes turned toward it. When the door opened and a young man stepped out, two of them smiled in surprise. The girl in the middle, however, tightened her facial expression and turned her face away. But the guy’s attention was all on her. He walked straight toward them, stopping right in front of her and said, “Even with all the speed I used, you still tried to run from me?”
Her face tightened more as she stepped slightly back. He scratched his head and gave a small smile. Turning to the other two with playful annoyance, he said, “This isn’t fair, friends. It’s like I’m with you but you’ve already agreed to gang up and run from me.”
They giggled in unison. The one on his right side, a little chubby, replied, “Please, there's no way we’d let that happen. Even if you ran, we’d bring you back from RK’s hideout. But seriously, it’s your girl here who’s making this trip so early. You know she barely slept last night from excitement — she couldn’t wait to go home and see her ‘Ammie’ (Mom).”
“Or maybe she’s just happy to be running away from Jos and her little boyfriend?” he teased, eyes fixed on the girl in the middle. Quickly, from her left side, she cut in: “Come on RK, you know that’s not true at all.”
“Hmm... Aneesa, you’re always defending her — I’ve noticed. No matter the angle, you’ll shield her. But for now, let’s just get in the car before the rain wets my queen.” Before anyone could respond, the girl in the middle started dragging her suitcase, intending to leave. He quickly grabbed the handle, making her stop abruptly without turning. He was about to say something when Aneesa quickly shook her head and gently took the suitcase from him. Without argument, he let go and stepped back.
As the girl tried to continue pulling her suitcase, Aneesa grabbed it again. This made her turn around angrily, expecting him — but it was Aneesa. She closed her eyes in frustration and bit her lip in annoyance. Aneesa smiled, knowing she had successfully triggered her. “Please, I’m begging you,” she said quickly, then continued without waiting for a reply: “Forgive us — it’s because of Maanal. Look at the sky, it’s clearly going to rain any moment now. You know how it affects you. And he promised to drop us only at the bus station, nothing more. Today’s our final day together, don’t let it end like this with him. RK doesn’t deserve that from you. Even if you’ll never accept him, don’t be cruel — not today. You’ve never disrespected him before, don’t start now. Let it end peacefully. Besides, he no longer has your number, and he doesn’t know your new location, so it’s not like he’ll bother you again.”
Slowly, she opened her teary eyes. Her lips parted to speak, but at that moment, the rain came pouring down. She was thrown into confusion. She didn’t even realize Aneesa had pulled her into the car and joined her. It wasn’t until she noticed the rain wasn’t hitting her anymore, just its sound, that she lifted her head, previously buried between her knees. When she turned, she locked eyes with RK, who was staring at her intensely. She quickly looked away, then turned to her friends. Zeezah quickly pointed to Aneesa, signaling it was her idea. Aneesa gave her a pitiful look, silently begging her not to say anything. She shot her a glare and looked away, wiping the rain off her face with a handkerchief.
From the moment the car started moving, no one said a word. The rain kept pouring like it came from a broken pot. Some vehicles had already parked by the roadside. When they passed the bus station, Zeezah tried to speak, but RK, watching them through the mirror, signaled her to stay quiet. She swallowed her words with a smile and glanced at Maanal, whose head was bent over a novel — clearly reading, unaware of the drama that had just occurred.
RK, however, was mentally split between driving and stealing glances at her. Maanal was a beautiful and composed young woman. She could be described as average in height — though in some places, people would just call her tall, even though she wasn’t lanky. She was slim and didn’t have a full figure. Anyone who knew her — especially recently — would put her among the most reserved people. She didn’t talk much, didn’t smile or laugh often. It was rare to even see a smile on her face, let alone laughter. Her face was almost always expressionless. Even when she spoke, it felt like she was forcing herself. Unless it was something important, you’d always find her with a novel in hand, reading. That meant she was a serious bookworm. In fact, you could say her constant reading is why she always had white-framed eyeglasses on — something many thought looked very good on her. She knew it too. What started as glasses for reading had now become part of her identity. If she wasn’t asleep or doing something essential, you’d always see her wearing them. But what people didn’t know was that there was another reason — a deeper one — why she always wore them, not just because of reading.
