Tunali Book 1 Hausa Novel Complete
The first time I stumbled upon his profile on TikTok, I decided to leave a comment. His posts carried a sense of pride and patriotism, and in one of them, he had written in the spirit of victory:
“Hey Riyyam-Nsra, you seem to know so much about Nigeria—you must be a patriot.”
Intrigued, I made a joke, suggesting he was pretending to be Ethiopian while claiming to be Nigerian. I wondered if his studies had taken him to Nigeria.
With a smile, he replied:
“A Nigerian is a Nigerian, but I am Ethiopian. However, Nigeria holds a special place in my heart because it is the homeland of my best friend. We studied together in the US.”
After seeing his video, Sumayyah remarked, “Oh, now I get it. Nasir Ahmad was his friend—the one who exposed his connection to Nigeria and where he learned Hausa. That explains a lot.”
Sulaiman, pausing briefly, added, “TikTok has completely consumed the youth. It’s supposed to be a tool, but instead, it’s turning into a distraction for those who should be the foundation of our community.”
Sumayyah laughed and said, “That’s what Rayyern keeps telling you—if you don’t step back from social media, you’ll waste all your time.”
Sulaiman frowned, closing his eyes in thought. “But Ibrahim must’ve known about this—there are just too many similarities between Rayyern and this boy.”
They continued to chat about the uncanny resemblances between the two.
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The Next Morning – Tuesday
At Alhaji Idi Sale Dakata's house, six men had gathered. Four of them were prominent businessmen, millionaires whose fortunes dictated whether the poor could even scrape by. The other two were high-ranking government officials, wielding influence from the state level to the national level.
Alhaji Yawale cleared his throat and said, “This boy is a problem for us. If we don’t act now, he will destroy everything we’ve built over the years.”
Alhaji Abdu Tababa, visibly frustrated, added, *"I’ve been warning you about him for ages. Removing him from the equation is our only option. Look at how his food market is flourishing, with branches stretching from the North to the South of Nigeria—and now even across Africa.
"He’s made food so cheap it’s like rainfall in the winter. Everywhere you go, the markets are dominated by his brand, ‘Mai-Nasara Race.’ At these prices, how can our products compete?"*
Another man stood up angrily. *"My question is simple: Where did this boy come from? What’s his background? When was he born? And what about our children? How did he amass this wealth that now threatens our businesses and hurts our companies?
"When did he manage to build everything at once? What’s the true extent of his power and influence?"*
He finished his rant by turning to Bala Tambari, the government official in charge of industrial development. “You’re the one who approves all his projects. Why did you give him the green light to build wherever he pleases?”
Bala sighed, visibly exasperated. *"It’s not my doing. This was an old agreement, approved long before I took office. His documents are flawless, with all the necessary signatures. I’ve tried to find fault in his operations, but everything he does is justified.
"Five years ago, when he started building that massive factory in Kano, I realized he’s not just smart—he’s relentless. And let me tell you, this boy is no pushover. He’s got the kind of sharp eyes that feel like daggers. If you confront him, he’ll give you undeniable proof of his right to exist, leaving you powerless."*
Dr. Lukman, shaking his head in frustration, interjected. “He’s not just a menace in business—he’s disrupting the medical field too. His so-called ‘simple hospitals’ are taking over, offering care at prices no private hospital can match. He’s systematically dismantling our industry, and I, for one, will make sure he’s blocked at every turn.”
