Kurman Baki Hausa Novel Complete
The scene began with her waking up in his room, moving back to sit down, yet still finding no relief. Despite leaving messages for everyone from Ruqayya to Saleem, nothing had changed. Sam seemed unbothered by the pile of dirt in her department, focusing instead on cleaning it. The rising sun signaled the time for tidiness, but her mind was elsewhere. Her greatest frustration lay in the money her father had spent—she had bought countless unverified drugs, including one called KAFI MALLAKA. These were supposed to give her control over Saleem and anyone around him, but they failed miserably.
She poured all her money into these treatments, but they were ineffective. The regimen lasted two days, and she had already wasted one night. With only one night remaining—Friday—her hopes dwindled. She regretted not starting sooner, perhaps on Wednesday. Their fallout made her doubt Saleem would ask anything of her tonight, and even if she humbled herself to beg, she knew he wouldn’t stoop to meet her. Still, her determination remained unshaken, spurred by the money she had invested, ostensibly to secure prayers and ensure the children’s well-being.
Like someone jolted by urgency, she reached for her locker, cluttered with scattered items—ledgers, debris, broken plastic, paper, and boxes. As she examined the chaotic contents, disappointment welled up.
“Why have I failed to push this black woman out of his life?” she murmured, her eyes scanning the mess. Every advertised beauty product or remedy she encountered—whether heard about in a salon or seen elsewhere—she made sure to obtain. Yet, despite her efforts, success continued to elude her.
She reached for a black leather pouch tucked at the side. Pulling it out, her cheek brushed the mirror as her hand skimmed over some broken wood pieces and other random objects—one brown, one black, one white, and one green. Frustration boiled over.
“Have I not tried more than half of what was recommended? I thought the remaining ones would finally deliver,” she muttered, shaking her head as she closed the lid.
On her untidy bed, she stretched out to retrieve her phone from under her pillow. Turning on her data, she opened WhatsApp, where a flood of messages awaited her. The previous night’s chats had kept her up until she closed her bedroom door.
She placed the phone on the bed’s edge as an urgent call of nature interrupted her. Rushing to the bathroom, she crouched over the toilet tiles, watching the urine flow. The sight of odd colors mixed with the liquid intensified her irritation.
"Look at this! All my efforts and these medicines are wasted. I must apologize to Saleem—there are things tormenting him," she thought bitterly.
Once done, she splashed water from the tap, not bothering to wash her hands thoroughly. She cleaned her damp underwear, now discolored from the pressure pills she had been using since the evening. Frustrated, she yanked it off and tossed it into the bathtub filled with her unwashed bras and panties.
A sudden notification buzzed from her phone. She glanced at it briefly, then ignored it, overwhelmed by her thoughts and the chaos around her.
