Mijin Malama Hausa Book 1 Compelet

Description

His Excellency Abu-turab could feel her cries piercing through every nerve in his head right to the center of his brain. Why was she crying so much? Did she not like him, or what? Or were they tears of joy for having him as her husband? He couldn't understand why she was crying, but deep down, his heart was racing. Slowly, he found a seat on the parlor chair and bowed his head slightly. He sat there for a long time, thinking about where to start.
He stood up, adjusted his grand flowing gown (babban riga), and headed to the main parlor. He found Uncle Isma'il and Jawaad sitting there. He sat down, bowed respectfully, and said, "Greetings, Uncle."
Uncle Isma'il replied, "Ah, Your Excellency, you are out? Hope all is well? Has she come out?"
He nodded calmly and said, "Yes, I was thinking we should leave now."
Uncle Isma'il shook his head. "I would love for you to leave with your wife, since there's no point in her staying under your authority here, but you know how women's traditions are; you will hear a lot of complaints. Personally, I would prefer we furnish her house with everything before she is taken there."
His Excellency looked at Uncle Isma'il and said, "No need, Uncle. I have fixed the part where she will stay, and added new furniture ordered from Turkey."
Uncle Isma'il paused, shook his head, and said, "I don't think that would be appropriate. It’s better you let her family provide her furnishings as is customary; it is our responsibility."
His Excellency just looked at Uncle Isma'il, not knowing how to explain it so he would understand. Seeing this, Aunt (Anti), who had just come out of the bedroom, sat down, smiled, and said, "We won't stop you from doing a good deed, but you know we women can be petty. I fear that one day she might be mocked for not bringing her own furniture, with people saying you did everything for her."
Abuturab said softly, "Come on, Aunt, even if I wasn't marrying Majeederh, I would do anything for her. Please, it's my intention."
She shook her head. "You don't know women, Your Excellency, especially the husband's relatives. Mockery is part of our nature."
He closed his eyes, opened them calmly, and said, "Alright, let me leave with her, and after that, you can bring her things since you insist."
Uncle Isma'il said, "Better. My mind is at peace with this."
Aunt added, "But do us a favor; come back around Maghrib (evening) to take her, not now."
Abuturab agreed, "If you are more comfortable with that, may Allah spare our lives till then." He stood up, and Uncle Isma'il stood too. They shook hands, and Abuturab said, "Thank you, Uncle."
He walked out with his eyes half-closed because he hadn't fully recovered, but he had forced himself to come. Before he even reached them, his P.A. Hammad and Jawaad were chatting like old friends—Hammad was a very funny, nice, and friendly person. The driver opened the back door for His Excellency Abu-turab, and he got in. Hammad said, "Jawaad, see you soon." Jawaad replied, "Okay dear, bye." The driver drove off slowly on Abuturab's orders, with Hammad in the front seat.
Meanwhile, Majeederh was still sitting behind the door. She felt she hadn't treated Abuturab fairly by locking the door, but she was entirely uncomfortable around him. Her heart couldn't accept him as her lawful husband. What should I do? Think, Majeederh, she told herself.
She bowed her head lower like a little girl, her heart breaking. She hugged her knees even tighter. Nothing hurt like people's words and gossip about her. How could she ever forgive Abraham? She hated him with everything in her; she couldn't stand hearing his name, let alone seeing anyone who looked like him.
Baby Khalil's cries made her stand up weakly. She went to him, picked him up, and found herself staring at him. Her heart skipped a painful beat because of his striking, maddening resemblance to Abraham. He was a replica of him in every way, especially how he sucked his lips and quickly pouted. She quickly shut her eyes, hugged Baby Khalil tightly, and whispered, "God will judge you. You will never see peace in your life. May God destroy your happiness just as you destroyed mine. May God deny you peace of mind just as you denied me mine. May God separate you from your parents..."
"Subhanallah! That is enough!" said Aunt, who had unlocked the door with a spare key, stopping Majeederh's terrible curse against Abraham. Aunt sat down, her eyes on Baby Khalil, noticing the strong resemblance to Abraham as well. "Why? What is the meaning of this evil prayer, Majeederh?"
"He destroyed my life, Aunt," she said softly.
Aunt shook her head, sighed, and said, "If Abraham is ruined, you are ruined too, because he is the father of your son, Khalil. Look at how much they look alike."
Majeederh frowned and looked down. Aunt continued, "What he did was wrong, very wrong. But that doesn't mean you should lay evil curses on him. If you say you leave him to God, that is enough. Anyone left to God is in deep trouble. There's no need for these curses, if only for the sake of your son Khalil. Please, Majeederh, you are an Islamic teacher (Malama); you know better than anyone what is right and wrong. God answered our prayers, looked at your situation, and gave you a husband beyond your imagination. In the entire Khan family, no one is as suited for you as he is."
She paused, shaking her leg slightly, and added, "I swear, you have no one closer to you right now than Abuturab. He loves you so much. Try to improve your relationship with your husband. You know the eyes of the world are on you, right? Do not give any room for problems between you and your husband; he is the one with authority over you now. Hold onto your mother-in-law and his relatives tightly. Ignore everyone else, and don't give me high blood pressure making my heart jump. The tragedy that befell you is trending globally—not just in Kano or Nigeria. If you check Google or Twitter, it’s the most trending news."
Majeederh's heart dropped, and she squeezed her eyes shut. How could she stop cursing Abraham? Her greatest agony was that the child she carried was the one who saw her nakedness. He raped her and disgraced her before the world; he saw everything of her despite how modestly she always kept herself. The sheer bitterness made her shut her eyes tighter, searching for tears but finding none.
Aunt continued, "And why are you cursing Abraham? Because you refuse to accept destiny? Do not prolong your hatred for him, because sometimes what you hate fiercely becomes something you love uncontrollably later. I am advising you as a mother, not just your uncle's wife. Never tell anyone your marital problems except someone you absolutely trust. Abuturab is better to you than Abbu (your father) right now. Abbu pushed you away, but Abuturab embraced you with both hands despite the tragedy that befell you. Now is the time to calm down and find peace with your husband, Majeederh."
Majeederh was speechless. Slowly she said, "Aunt, Abbu cursed me. I hope I don't end up ruined."
Aunt shook her head. "No, Insha Allah, we won't see that day. He will calm down. I wanted Abuturab to wait a bit so you could get yourself pampered and ready, but no, you are moving in even before your forty days of postpartum are over."
Majeederh quickly replied, "Is it as if I have no family, Aunt? I am moving in today of all days."
"We say Alhamdulillah for that. You have family support from all sides," Aunt said, standing up and taking the sleeping Khalil. "His name should be changed. Father Khalil, son Khalil?"
Majeederh frowned. "He only has a mother." Aunt didn't say anything else and left the room.
Grandpa was sitting in the parlor with some prominent men. He looked up slowly, his eyes landing on Abraham, who stood looking completely drained and staring blankly with discolored eyes. Grandpa looked at the men and said, "This discussion has come to an end. We will meet tomorrow morning at the office."
They stood up, gathered their documents, and left. Grandpa walked over to Abraham, examining him from head to toe. He had changed completely; his fiery temper was gone, replaced by a cold numbness. Grandpa had previously thought he had lost his mind and suggested a psychiatric hospital, but realized it was just severe depression.
Before Grandpa could hold his hand, Abraham said, "I want a plane that leaves in an hour to Germany."
Grandpa smiled. So, he had finally given up on Majeederh? Given up on marrying his 'Mami'? "Right now, my grandson." He picked up his phone, dialed for a few seconds, and said, "Done. The plane will take off in 30 minutes."
Abraham ignored his Grandpa and went straight upstairs. When he came down, Grandpa saw he was dressed normally, not his usual style—Camouflage-print cargo trousers and a Gymshark sports t-shirt. His hair was messy, but that didn't stop the strong scent of Boadicea The Victorious perfume from radiating off him. He walked down with his hands in his pockets, looking like a grown man whose life was ruined, even though he was barely 20 and hadn't even finished growing.
"Are you ready to go to Denial?" Grandpa asked. Abraham ignored him. Grandpa smiled, stood up, and followed him. They got into the back seat, and the driver took them to the airport.
Halfway there, Abraham spoke. "Grandpa."
"Yes, dear."
He frowned deeply, staying silent for a few seconds before asking, "About the Gang team... Where is Taj?"
Grandpa stayed silent, then shrugged and said, "I don't know where he is. After you left the country, the Gang team was gone."
Abraham remained silent. He needed to see Taj; where did he take the letter he promised to deliver? Where was the envelope?
They arrived at the airport, and Abraham didn't speak again. As soon as they reached the plane, which was about to close its doors, he didn't wait to hear what Grandpa had to say. He quickly climbed the stairs and went inside, shutting the door. Grandpa smiled, knowing Abraham was angry with him, but hoping he would find common ground with his father, Denial, this time. He stood there until the plane took off, then got into his car and left.
Alpha's mother, Aunt, and Yaya Bilkisu were sitting together. Alpha's mother spoke softly, "Everything that has a beginning must have an end. At least with Majeederh, we can see her and know the tragedy that befell her. But her brother? Nobody knows what kind of world Alpha has ended up in." She spoke with deep sorrow.
Yaya Bilkisu replied, "God does not oppress His servants; it is the servant who oppresses himself. God does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear. We are all praying that God restores Alpha's senses and brings him home. I think about him day and night; look how many years it's been now."
Alpha's mother fell silent with a painful smile.
Before they could speak further, Latifa Omar entered, looking troubled. After greetings, she said, "Aunt, please forgive me for the report I gave to the press. I was angry. Despite how much I trusted Majeederh and defended her in public, she still betrayed me. I assumed she knew about her pregnancy and hid it from me, which is why I was angry. Apparently, I made a misunderstanding without stopping to research the matter. Please forgive me."
Yaya Bilkisu said, "Alhamdulillah, since you realize your mistake. You are truly a good friend to Majeederh."
Latifa apologized again before heading into the bedroom where Majeederh was. She found her holding Baby Khalil, staring into his open eyes. Latifa smiled and said, "The nursing mother."
Majeederh remained silent. Latifa pleaded for forgiveness exactly as she had with the Aunts, even shedding tears. Seeing Majeederh still silent, Latifa said, "Please, Bestie, let bygones be bygones. It was the devil's work."
Slowly, closing her eyes, Majeederh replied, "No bad."
Deep down, Majeederh felt it was indeed the devil's work. She had trusted Latifa as a rare, genuine friend, to the point of giving Latifa the opportunity to marry her own suitor, Aliyu. Majeederh closed her eyes again. She had two major sorrows now: her father cursing and disowning her, which bothered her more than anything, and the trauma that the boy she practically raised with her own hands was the one who tore her dignity away. Her heart felt heavy, and she wished for death, though she was now forced to live. While they were in the room, the Aunts waited in the parlor for nightfall when Abuturab would come to take his wife.
(Flashback/Reveal)
She sat on the floor as if in prostration, a red veil over her head. The man in front of her barked, "You are cursed! You are wicked! You tyrant, what brings you back here after the conditions I gave you?"
She bowed her head lower, afraid to make eye contact with the terrifying man whose mouth literally smoked. She said, "As you know, from the very beginning, I came to you because of my best friend, my right hand. I didn't want any progress for her because I realized she was better than me in everything. She was beautiful, had undeniable charisma even with her face covered. That's why I asked you to destroy her aura. Her family loves her, she guards her chastity, and she is far more educated than me, even winning an international Quran competition. I made you turn her into an owl (undesirable) in the eyes of men.
"I didn't know she was pregnant; you were the one who alerted me. When I left here, I spent two hundred thousand on herbs to make her bleed so she would think it was her period. You used black magic to make her bleed every month. You sent Jinns to make her bedridden, and you made the Jinns mimic the baby's movements so no one would suspect, making doctors see false results that she was fine..."
The man interrupted sharply, "You cursed wretch, stop speaking English to me here or I will turn you into ashes or a goat!"
Trembling, she cursed herself and pleaded, "And I fueled her love for Abraham so she would loosen up around him. Don't forget, before this spell worked, I sacrificed countless pregnancies of my own. You made me sleep with my relatives just to fulfill the rituals to destroy Majeederh's life. You told me to make my husband marry her so I could better humiliate her..."
He stopped her again. "You absolute tyrant! God will not spare you. You will reap what you sow. Now, I see another pregnancy in your womb, and you must abort it."
Latifa's heart dropped. She held her stomach, closing her eyes, and said, "I will abort it, if you do what I want."
"After all the evil you've done to her, what more do you want?"
"Never let Abuturab be intimate with her, let alone get her pregnant and have an heir! They must never share a bed. And I want to know... who is the real 'Mijin Malama' (Husband of the Malama)?"
(Promotional content omitted for narrative flow)
"Tell me who the real 'Mijin Malama' is, the one whose stars align with hers. I repeat, do not let Abuturab ever touch Majeederh. She is so fertile, if you blink, she will be pregnant, and I don't want that. My life's goal is for her to stay at the bottom while I stay on top. I am envious of all her blessings. I swore that since she beat me in beauty, education, wealth, and lineage, I will never let her beat me in marriage. I will never let her have more peace and happiness than me. Turzum, do whatever it takes to ensure His Excellency Abu-turab never touches Majeederh, not even once."
Turzum looked at her in disbelief. He had seen all kinds of wicked people—women who drove their co-wives mad, those who destroyed their mothers-in-law or sisters-in-law for material gain. But he hadn't worked for someone so hellbent on destroying their own best friend. The killer was inside the house, wearing the cloak of Moses but harboring the heart of Pharaoh.
Turzum burst into maniacal laughter, lifting his leg and farting loudly. The sheer size of his mouth and bulging eyes were terrifying. He adjusted his posture and said, "It is done. It will be exactly as you wish, you wicked tyrant destined for ruin. We will put his 'tools' to sleep; we will remove his desire."
Latifa Omar, still kneeling in her red veil, said, "Excellent, father of sorcerers, Turzum. Tell me, how many millions do you want?"
He yelled at her, "You know my price! I don't take money for my work. As soon as that pregnancy reaches four months, abort it. The Jinns need the blood of the miscarried fetus to drink. And all the women you sleep with—the Jinns are right there collecting your filth."
Latifa touched her stomach, feeling its warmth. A sudden wave of love for the child hit her, but the devil quickly beautified her evil intentions. She hastily said, "As soon as it hits four months, I will abort it. I hope you will do the work now?"
Turzum lifted his leg, passed gas again, and said, "Without a doubt, we will finish it now. You just make the promise to the Jinns. Is this all you want?"
She adjusted her sitting position. "The problem is you said black magic wouldn't affect her directly. I wanted her to go mad and wander the streets, or be bedridden until death. You said it didn't work well on her, though making her look ugly to men worked. You also said whenever she gives birth, the spell breaks. That's why I didn't even know when she got pregnant. Since she was born, suitors have been chasing her, even my own husband Aliyu, and prominent men! That's why I wanted her to marry that infidel boy, to be 'Mijin Malama', since people think he is an orphan bastard wandering the streets. Now my plan failed. You told me you would do something quick, right?"
Turzum just stared at her unblinkingly. She continued, "I swear, I wanted Majeederh to marry a miserable husband who would abuse her and make her life hell. But if it's not too much trouble, just tie up His Excellency Abu-turab's wealth. Let everything he invests in collapse, so the EFCC locks him in prison."
Turzum said, "I will think about it after I finish this task. Go and come back. But do not press me on knowing who the real 'Mijin Malama' is forever. Do not press me, you dark, wicked soul!"
Latifa nodded. "Alright Turzum, let me go." She stood up, left the foul-smelling rag for him, and walked out of the small hut, swaying her hips. Turzum watched her with a laugh.
After Isha prayer, around 8:40 PM, Majeederh was kneeling before her father's older brother (Uncle Isma'il), her aunts, Innati, and Yaya Bilkisu. They were advising her heavily. Uncle Isma'il said, "Everything that needs to be said has been said, Majeederh. Marriage means patience; the reward for patience in a husband's house is great. You are sensible; at 35, you understand life. Calm down and give your husband his rights..."

Table 2: Summary, Description, and Analytics

Trauma & Resentment: Majeederh is depicted in a state of emotional agony, projecting her hatred for Abraham onto her innocent baby, Khalil. Her Aunt serves as a moral compass, urging her to forgive and accept her new, supportive husband.

Abraham's Escape: Abraham is shown in a state of numb depression, abandoning his "Gang team" and fleeing to Germany to escape the fallout of his actions.

The Betrayal (Flashback/Occult Scene): The narrative shifts to a dark, occult setting where Latifa consults the grotesque sorcerer, Turzum. It is revealed that Latifa has sacrificed her own pregnancies and committed unspeakable acts just to sabotage Majeederh's life out of an intense inferiority complex. She bargains her current pregnancy to ensure Majeederh's new marriage remains unconsummated. |
| Analytics | Character Motivations:

• Latifa: Driven by a toxic, pathological inferiority complex. She embodies the "enemy within," willing to sacrifice her own children and morality just to ensure Majeederh does not surpass her in societal status or happiness.
• Majeederh: Driven by profound PTSD. Her internal conflict stems from societal shame, her father's rejection, and the physical reminder of her assault (her child).
• Abuturab: Driven by duty, patience, and genuine affection, attempting to provide a safe haven for a broken woman.

Thematic Elements:

• Spiritual Warfare & Envy: The text heavily utilizes Hausa/Islamic cultural tropes of asiri (black magic) and Aljanu (Jinns) to explain sudden misfortune, anchoring Latifa's jealousy in literal demonic pacts.
• Societal Pressure: The fear of public perception ("what will people say", Twitter/Google trending gossip, family mockery) dictates the actions of almost every character, from the furniture arrangements to Majeederh's mental breakdown.
• Destiny vs. Resentment: A core moral lesson is delivered by the Aunt: one must accept destiny (Qaddara) rather than harbor self-destructive hatred. |