Tantiriya Agidan Yari Book 2 Complete Hausa Novel

Annoor said, “Take us to court, I swear you’ll explain yourself!” Maryam’s body trembled as she pleaded, “For God’s sake, forgive me for lying. I wanted to trick you into marrying me.” A policewoman escorted Maryam and Mari away, detaining them. Annoor insisted, “Let the court detain her. I’ll reclaim my rights. This will only drag you into a forced marriage. Our house is no place for someone like her. Maryam, you’ve crossed the line—even Kawu Jauro is fed up with you for wronging his son!” The officers calmed him down, urging him to leave. He stormed out and headed straight home.  

Their large house in G.R.A came into view. Guards opened the gate for him. A young girl, no older than 18, dressed in a long silver gown, hurried out. She held an ice cream cone, licking it casually, her hair neatly styled. Spotting Annoor’s car, she rushed to open it. He stepped out smiling, and she hugged him joyfully, greeting, “Yaya, welcome back!” He replied, “Iman Sanabe, where’s my ice cream? Did you finish your assignment today?” She tilted her head, still eating her ice cream. “Check the car’s backseat—your chocolates are there. But Nabeela’s got hers soaked in syrup.” She laughed and followed him into their lavish living room.  

Habiba, Jauro’s mother, smiled. “You’re finally home, my son.” Annoor asked, “Mother, is Dad home?” She replied, “He’s here. Where are the children?” “Nabeela’s in her room studying. Did you forget she speaks English now?” Annoor said, “Assignment?” “Yes, they’re working on it. Your wife finished hers earlier while waiting for you. Oh, and don’t forget the doctor’s appointment!” Iman Sanabe blushed, covering her face. “God, please stop embarrassing me!” Annoor glanced at her. “Sanabe, did you fix my part?” Iman retorted, “Yes, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” Annoor raised his voice. “Follow me!” She pouted. “What did I do wrong now? You don’t want me anymore?” He ignored her and walked away. She sat sulking in the parlor.  

Kawu Jauro arrived, dressed plainly but exuding wealth—his cars alone betrayed his riches. The children rushed to greet him. Jauro eyed Iman and asked, “Whose daughter is this? She looks familiar.” Iman hid her face. “Uncle, why are you teasing me?” Nabeela smirked. “She thinks she’s better than me now. If she pouts again, she’ll sleep in the bedroom!” Iman frowned, unaware of Nabeela’s jab. Nabeel muttered, “Sanabe’s just being Sanabe.” Jauro waved them off. “Leave the girl alone. Let’s go, Iman. Albarka, stay here.” Iman asked, “Uncle, what did you buy us?” Jauro replied, “I forgot. Nabeel, bring the keys. The gifts are in the car.”  

Nabeel, a young man slightly older than Annoor, fetched the bags. Each item was wrapped in separate foil—a family tradition, even Jauro’s two wives had theirs. Jauro retreated to his room, checking each person’s whereabouts. He entered Rahma’s room—she was gone.