WANI HASKE Complete Hausa Novel Document by WANI HASKE

Description/Story:

*JAN EAR* - I do not permit anyone to alter this narrative on my behalf. Those who attempt to modify or erase the author's name, or appropriate portions from God's narrative, are, in my view, unforgivable.

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In a quiet corner of a bustling church, young *GOODNESS*, no more than 23 years old, meticulously gathered her scattered documents from a table. The resonance of her footsteps mingled with the church's music that filled every crevice. A glance around revealed a congregation of numerous individuals, including the young woman herself.

She methodically placed her documents into a neat bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she headed towards the church exit. Dressed in a form-fitting black top and jeans, her hair neatly tied, she emanated a sense of elegance. Her nails bore a faint blue tint from a manicure. As she stepped outside, she exchanged a kiss with her boyfriend, Promise, who was attempting to enter.

He took her hand, and they walked together. He grinned and said, "Sweetheart, you're still awake?"

She waved before speaking, "Yes, I'd like to head home, but I know I can't right now. There's a night service tonight."

He wore a pained expression, almost on the verge of tears. "Please, dear, wait a little longer. There's somewhere I'd like you to accompany me."

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Promise. I need to work from home now. Dad is fasting today; it's Thursday. I want to get him a drink since Mom isn't here."

Releasing her hand, Promise assured her, "No problem, dear. We'll be back."

"Okay, bye-bye," she said with a clap and briskly walked away, eager to reach home early and prepare her father's beverage.

Around 5:30, she arrived at their home in a modest neighborhood. The house was empty when she entered. After placing her bag down, she proceeded to the kitchen. She played "There is no one like you" on her cell phone and, holding a potato, started to sing along with the song.

As if from the heavens, she heard Nura bid her farewell. "Yes, come in," she happily responded. Nura entered, dragged a white plastic chair, and seated himself, saying, "Where's your mom?"

"She hasn't returned from church yet. My father is fasting, and I won't be back either."

As she talked about Nura, he admired her father's commitment to their faith, his ability to live in accordance with his beliefs. He smiled and said, "Good news, today I bring you great tidings, my daughter."

"Hmm, Nura, you've piqued my curiosity, haven't you?"

He smiled and replied, "Today, there's no debate between us. Today, I'm here to collect your credentials. I have a connection with a prominent individual who is seeking someone with your qualifications for his office."

"Wow, thank you, God! I'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity," she exclaimed, clapping and jumping for joy. She abandoned the sweet potato she had been cutting and rushed to her room.

She hastily gathered her documents, saying, "I need to photocopy these."

Nura accepted the documents and promised to make the photocopies, then called her with updates.

"If I get this job, I'll save money to take my father to Mecca for Hajj. I'll also take him to Jerusalem. I'll perform Hajj with him, and I'll take Aunt Bilkisu to Mecca," she cheered, excitedly sharing her plans with her father.

As she prepared her father's meal, he returned. He had just finished his ablutions before entering. His forehead bore the mark of prayer, a testament to his devoutness.

"Welcome, Father," she cheerfully greeted him, adding, "*Ummi A'isha*," in reference to her mother, who was still at the church. She marveled at her father's serene demeanor, considering his strong devotion to his faith.

"You seem quite cheerful today. Did something special happen after you left?" her father inquired with a warm smile.

"Dad, I'm about to start a new job. Nura came to collect my credentials," she happily announced.

"Alhamdulillah, may God bless you. Where's your mother?"

"Dad, she hasn't returned from church yet. There's a night service tonight, so they might spend the night there," she replied.

"Ah, I see," her father nodded as he entered the living room of their home. Not long after, the call to the Maghrib prayer echoed. He performed ablutions and headed to the mosque, continuing the devout practice he had upheld for years.

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