Ma'radams Book 2 Hausa Novel Complete
At eleven o'clock, my mother sat quietly on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide open and tears streaming down her cheeks. She was consumed with anguish. “This marriage was supposed to bring happiness to everyone, but it has destroyed my only son. He carries a fire of anger in his heart and soul now. What can I do with this turmoil that has engulfed his life?” she murmured to herself.
Prayers were all she had. She prayed for him more than she prayed for anyone, even more than her other children. Yet her heart was heavy with worry.
Deep in thought, she began to believe that the woman her son married was like a curse—a fairy who had bewitched and threatened his life. Determined to find a solution, she sighed deeply, lowering her head.
As she sat in this state, her three daughters entered the room. They had stayed back after the party and hadn’t yet returned to their homes. The sound of her muffled cries had drawn them in, and they immediately surrounded her, concerned.
“Mami, what’s wrong? Please tell us,” Aunty Khadija urged gently, though they already knew it had to do with their brother.
“Help me,” Mami cried out. “Adamcy’s life is in danger. My heart is breaking, and if his life continues like this, you’ll lose me too. Help me bring him back to normal. I can’t watch him destroy himself anymore. I won’t forgive that demon who has ruined his life until the day God holds us accountable!”
“Be patient, Mami,” Khadija comforted her. “Insha Allah, everything will be fine. We will keep praying for him. But where is Adamcy? I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
Through tears, Mami replied, “He’s in his room… drinking alcohol. That’s not like him. He’s not like this!”
Shocked, Aunty Shahida and Zabiba exchanged worried looks. Without hesitation, they stood up and left Mami’s room, heading to Adamcy’s upstairs bedroom with determination. Mami followed them, her heart heavy with fear.
When they reached his living room, Salim and Amar were there, waiting for him to wake up. “Salamu alaikum, Mami,” they greeted her.
“Wa alaikumus salam,” she replied. “Is he still not awake?”
“No, he’s still sleeping. We checked on him ten minutes ago, and he hasn’t moved,” Salim said.
“God bless you,” she whispered as she entered Adamcy’s bedroom. Her daughters were already inside, standing over him.
“He’s been like this since the last time he drank,” Shahida observed with concern.
“There must be something wrong with his blood,” Zabiba suggested. “Why else would he drink like this? What could lead him down this path?”
“We’ll endure it with prayers,” Shahida said firmly. “There’s nothing greater than God’s intervention.”
Suddenly, Adamcy stirred. His movements were slow, his body heavy, and he struggled even to open his eyes. The sisters called for Salim and Amar, who quickly entered the room.
“He’s moving,” they whispered, watching closely.
“Help him sit up,” Mami instructed. Salim and Amar lifted him gently, propping him against a pillow Shahida handed them.
Mami stepped into his bathroom and returned with a bowl of warm water and a towel. She set a chair beside him and began to clean him, removing all his clothes except his boxers. Despite her age, she didn’t hesitate. With care and love, she washed him herself, wiping away not only the physical remnants of his state but also some of her own heartbreak.
Adamcy opened his eyes slightly, barely able to focus on her. She dressed him in clean clothes and fixed his head on the pillow. Looking at him with a mixture of love and sorrow, she called her daughters back into the room.
When they entered, they were taken aback by what they saw. Mami had done it all herself—cleaning, dressing, and praying over him. Her devotion was unmatched.
“It’s only God who can restore him,” Mami said, her voice resolute. “That’s why I’ve done everything I can and placed him in His hands.”
The daughters nodded solemnly and joined her in prayer, their voices steady as they called upon God to heal their brother and bring him back from the darkness.
