A RUBUCE TA KE KADDARATA Complete Hausa Novel Document by A RUBUCE TA KE KADDARATA

Description/Story:

A RUBUCE TAKE KADDARATA Complete Document Written By Safiyya Huguma

Description

She quietly opened the door of the bathroom, emerging wrapped in a large white towel. Her smooth, glistening skin caught her eye as she made her way to the dressing mirror in the room. Seating herself before the mirror, she couldn't shake the sense of unease that enveloped her soul and body. Her reflection stared back at her, the face before her seemingly familiar yet distant, unable to provide the solace she sought. She found herself awash with an array of thoughts, spiraling through the events of the day and the appearance of the mysterious cat, her mind churning without ceasing, attempting to decipher the enigma that had befallen her. Despite ruminating on the happenings from the time he had left until now, she could discern no apparent reason for the sudden shift in her circumstances.

As far as she recalled, they had parted ways that morning with affectionate words and warm feelings, their conversation over the phone brimming with the intimacy of lovers baring their hearts. He had regaled her with tales of his time spent with Mitra, teasing and jesting with her until they had bid each other farewell, their lips parting with fond expressions. What could have altered the course of events so drastically?

"There's something," she muttered softly, her lips moving as her gaze wandered away from her reflection.

Minutes passed, and she couldn't help but cast her eyes towards her phone, half-expecting his call. They had a routine; he would call her from wherever he was in Nigeria until he reached his destination. But this time, even though she hadn't seen a missed call, she refrained from calling him. She felt that whatever she was doing was the right course of action, convinced that he was about to arrive home.

"What's going on?" she asked herself once again, a tinge of anxiety weighing heavy on her heart.

In her effort to compose herself, she changed into a long dress that accentuated her natural beauty and figure. Despite the turmoil she faced, she stood before the mirror, gazing at herself as she reminisced about who she was in the past years. The woman she saw in the reflection seemed to be a different entity altogether, a remnant of a time long past.

Slipping into her soft slippers, she opened the door, stepping into the narrow corridor that led to the main hall of the house. Before she could finish her stride, she spotted her mother seated in the living room, a revered presence before her. It was a routine occurrence; whenever she returned home, she would make her way straight to her mother, seeking solace in her warm embrace. Her mother's world was one filled with joy and contentment, a world devoid of the shadow that now clouded her own.

Sensing her daughter's approach, her mother turned her head, meeting her gaze with a smile. Their eyes met, and they exchanged warm greetings, the tension in her mother's voice palpable as she lamented, "The burden of your bath is still here. Your brother just finished removing it." Her own sense of fragility and vulnerability grew with every passing moment, her heart momentarily frozen as she prepared to respond to her mother. Just then, her phone began to ring, and she hastily reached for it, her heart aflutter with the anticipation of hearing his voice, the person who was her everything.

A smile tugged at her lips as she answered the call, a small sigh of relief escaping her. "I'm coming," she assured her mother, her words revealing a sense of urgency as she held back from answering the call in her mother's presence. Only she knew the endearing words they exchanged, and she wasn't prepared to have her private sentiments laid bare before her mother's eyes.

Returning to her room, she settled in front of the mirror, steeling herself as she answered the phone. "Assalamualaikum," she greeted softly, tilting her head to the side, a gesture that always seemed to please him. Even now, his gaze was fixated on her in the mirror, as it had been in the years past. She hadn't changed in his eyes.

"Wa'alaikumus salam," came his response, delivered with a hint of reverence that softened his typically cool and composed voice. She couldn't help but notice the contrast; it was the same voice he used when dealing with criminals during his work or when communicating with his subordinates in moments of frustration and anger. It was a voice he had never directed at her before.

A chill ran through her as she struggled to regain her composure and inquired, "Are you safe? Have you reached home?"

"Why would you do this to me?" His voice, harsh and filled with rage, resonated through the phone. She could hear his heavy breathing, a clear indication of his anger and agitation, his question leaving her pondering the gravity of the situation.

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