Tarayya Book 1 Hausa Novel Complete
The majority of the servants and royal courtiers were making their way toward her. She hurried straight to the room, finding the door slightly ajar. Inside, Nurat stood with a small smile on her face.
Sitting on the edge of the mat, Nurat was trying to remove her uniform pants to head to the bathroom. She glanced up and said:
“Come early today. I finally got a little break from Ammi Yanxu. Wash your clothes quickly, even if you don’t dress up afterward. I want to bathe too, but I doubt I’ll manage. It’s so stifling without any wind, and we’re still in uniform.”
Looking at Nurat, she couldn’t help but reflect on their shared reality. They were slaves—children born into servitude. Even though she had a mother, Rumana, her life wasn’t much different. Without a father, and essentially alone, she and Nurat were bonded by their circumstances.
Rumana moved into the bathroom and sat on the pomegranate-colored mat, covering her mouth with her hand as she spoke softly:
“I’ll take care of it later. I’ll wash for you—it’s part of my duties too. Afterward, I’ll fetch the fresh flowers to be prepared for the queen’s palo. That’s the first task to complete, along with changing the water.”
She rose with a mix of emotions and asked, “Did Mamani take her medicine before heading to work?”
Nurat shook her head, a twinge of sadness on her face. Despite everything, Pomegranate—her nickname for Mamani—loved her mother deeply, even when beauty and hardship shadowed their lives.
As if lost in thought, Rumana began speaking in a calm, steady voice:
“Nurata, my nation’s words echo in my heart and ears:
‘I am a trainer who holds on to God. No matter what station you find yourself in, if you hold on to Him and embrace the destiny He’s given you—whether good or bad—even if life feels unbearable, I won’t let it consume you. But if you stray from the guidance of your family, then…’
These words guide me, Nurata. My parents were slaves, and I too am a slave. I have no privilege or dignity to call my own. I cannot see myself as a valuable daughter or woman because my life is bound to servitude, just like theirs.
But once, I dared to hope. I glimpsed a world of freedom through liberation. I prayed to God for that release, but sometimes, freedom feels like nothing more than a reprieve before death. It makes me wonder if striving for a better life is even possible…”
Before she could continue, Nurat interrupted. “Life is never beyond the mercy of the Creator. Be grateful for every blessing, no matter how small. You’re a good person, Rumana, and the queen herself values you. That alone is a rare privilege. Her highest position, her favor—it all trickles down to you. Her faithful servant, her doctor—none of that is by accident. Be thankful to God for this blessing.”
Rumana nodded slowly, watching as Nurat combed her long hair. She said, “Take the soap, wash yourself, and return to work early. You can’t afford to linger here, not in the king’s household.”
Nurat stood and gathered the clothes she’d set aside. “I can’t bathe now. Time’s slipping away, and work in the queen’s quarters is relentless. Everything changes—her chair, her dress, even the smallest details. Even the dress bought yesterday might not make it through the day. And the queen? She barely leaves her chambers. For a year now, she hasn’t even stepped out of her bedroom. Only her sister is permitted to visit.
“The doctor… he went to the house of Princess Amatullah, gave her a birth control injection—just to ensure her next child is male.”
Rumana’s lips tightened. She glanced at the door and muttered, “If anyone finds out about us—about our closeness—it could mean prison.”
Her words hung heavy in the air as she glanced again at the door. A sudden noise startled her. Sweat formed on her brow, and her heartbeat quickened. If she left now, she might avoid whatever storm was brewing, but the kingdom was ruthless.
Power and ambition ran in the veins of its rulers. The king, fierce and unyielding, held absolute authority. Even his wives and children doubted their safety under his reign. No one dared to trust entirely—except, perhaps, the soldiers and governors who clung to their positions under his iron rule.
