Amani Book 3 Hausa Novel Complete
Amani and her parents watched the unfolding scene in stunned silence, as though they were witnessing it on a giant projector screen. Amani noticed that Mukhtar's demeanor had changed; his stride carried an unfamiliar air, one that was more commanding and regal. What was happening before her eyes? Who was this Mukhtar she thought she knew? What was the meaning of the emblem associated with him?
Jalan, who was pushing Alhaji Usman in a wheelchair, felt a jolt of shock. From the first time she had seen Mukhtar, she couldn’t shake the impression that he carried the aura of royalty—a noble son of high lineage. His every action and expression reflected the traits of someone born to lead.
Baba Idi and Baba Sahura were equally taken aback. Sahura, in her terror, even wet herself when she saw the enormous lion sitting before them. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t a living, breathing beast but a stunningly lifelike ceramic sculpture—an emblem of the Issouffou Massaoudou Kenan lineage, symbolizing Zaki dan Zaki, the Lion of Diffa.
Alhaji Usman quietly wiped away tears, concealing them from everyone. He was overwhelmed by a truth he had never anticipated: Mukhtar, the man who had served him faithfully for nearly a decade, was none other than the crown prince of Diffa, the heir to its throne!
In all those years, Mukhtar had displayed such humility and kindness, qualities unmatched even by Alhaji’s blood relatives. Never had he imagined that Mukhtar, who carried himself so modestly, was royalty. Perhaps Mukhtar’s reluctance to discuss his background stemmed from having no one left in his world, which explained why he resisted returning to his homeland.
But today, Mukhtar’s destiny could no longer be denied. The truth had surfaced, silencing lies, enemies, and doubts. God had brought Mainan Diffa—the Crown Prince of Diffa—back home. Calls of honor rang out as Mukhtar was offered a seat beside the Emir of Diffa. Yet, overcome with emotion, Mukhtar refused to sit. Instead, he collapsed to the ground, weeping tears of joy and gratitude to God.
As the King entered the palace, his royal entourage followed, cloaks flowing behind them. The massive palace doors were shut, and no one was allowed entry. The King approached Mukhtar, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Mon fils," he whispered, “Is this real? Am I truly seeing you?”
Overcome, the King staggered, nearly collapsing. Mukhtar rushed to catch him, embracing his father for the first time in his life. Their bodies touched, and they sank to the floor together, weeping in each other’s arms. It was a moment of reconciliation neither had ever dared to dream.
The palace guards, moved by the emotional reunion, discreetly wiped their eyes and were ordered to clear the area, leaving only senior guards within the chamber. Mukhtar knelt before the King, his head bowed, and said with reverence, “Forgive me, Abiy. I have returned, and I have nowhere else to go. I will live as you wish, for the rest of my life.”
The King, barely able to compose himself, ordered an honorific reception for those who had accompanied Mukhtar to the palace. Meanwhile, Umami, the King’s wife, was already inside the royal residence. She had heard whispers from the palace envoys about Maina’s return, but disbelief clouded her mind. Could it be true?
Unable to wait for confirmation, Umami made her way to the secret door of the palace, one reserved for the royal family. She entered, her heart pounding, and finally laid eyes on Mukhtar. For a moment, mother and son stood frozen, their gazes locked.
Then, as if to confirm the truth, Umami reached out and touched Mukhtar’s face. Her trembling fingers traced the features she had longed to see for fifteen years. "Mukhtar," she whispered, tears streaming down her face, "my son… my only son…" But before Mukhtar could utter a word, the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her, and she collapsed into his arms, unconscious.
"Umami, don’t do this to me!" Mukhtar cried, holding her tightly. “Don’t leave me now! We’ve just found each other. We haven’t spoken; we haven’t shared our hearts. I regret leaving without telling you what was in my heart, but I know now you had a better reason for everything than I ever understood.”
Water was sprinkled on Umami’s face, and she slowly regained consciousness. She clung to Mukhtar, her tears flowing freely as she wept for the years they had lost and the joy of finally being reunited with her beloved son.
