Inda Rai Da Raabo Book 1 Compeleted

Description

 INDA Rai 

“You have 30 minutes, wake up.” Ya Muhammad said. With a lethargic tone, he said, “Okay, I am coming.” He nodded his head and went back inside. Realizing he truly wouldn't leave without her, she extended her hand toward him. Slowly, he brought the palms of their hands together, closing his eyes—which had changed color—and whispered from deep within his throat: “When I am with you, I feel like every desire I have in the world is right here with me. When I am away from you, I feel like I have no happiness. Aside from my parents, there is no face I look upon to feel joy other than yours. Seeing you right here makes me so happy, my new bride.” He finished speaking with his lips trembling as if he were cold. As for Ishmah, her body had already gone limp with shivers. Hurriedly, she withdrew her hand and tucked it into her veil. Taj slowly opened the car door and stepped out. She followed behind him. As they entered, he greeted Ya Muhammad and the children, then took Laylah's hand and walked toward the boarding area.

They turned back home, filled with a sense of loss and longing for Laylah and Uncle Taj.

At exactly one o'clock, their flight departed for Abuja.

Thirteen minutes before two, they landed in Abuja.

They performed the Zuhr prayer and ate the pepper chicken Ishmah had prepared for them, alongside fruit yogurt she also made. At two o'clock sharp, their plane began its roaring takeoff. Softly, he said, “Maeesha, the plane is taking off now. I am leaving Nigeria with a heavy heart, because I feel as though I am leaving all my happiness behind in this country.” Softly, she replied, “Taj, I also feel as though you are taking all my happiness with you. The pain of losing my Daddy has come back afresh.” With that, they said their goodbyes, and he boarded his flight to Ethiopia...

The next day, Monday, he was sitting before Yah Abana, Ummeey, Mom Amal, and Yah Hafiz, telling them about what Nigeria was like, the honors and the slights he experienced from the people—especially the Izala and Darika sects. Malam let out a heavy sigh, and with a contemplative heart, said, “My son, which states did you visit?” Adjusting his posture, he replied, “First Abuja, then Adamawa, Borno, Zamfara, Kano, and Bauchi.” Quickly, Malam asked, “Even Bauchi?!” Taj nodded and said, “It was there I met an elderly scholar, Sheikh Tajuddeen Usman Bauchi.” Then he recounted how their meeting went, adding, “Yah Abana, he even gave me his walking staff to bring to you, and he gave me his majestic gown (alkyabba) along with his turban.” Ever since he began the story, Malam had pursed his lips into a stern expression as if he had never smiled in his life. The brightness and warmth of his usual gentle affection were gone. His Ummeey gently said, “My son, won't you eat something?” Looking at the sudden change in his father's expression, he replied, “Ummeey, I just came from Addawa's house; I had breakfast there.” Then he looked at Mom Amal, who remarked, “Why didn't you bring Laylah along with you?” She finished with a sly tone. Adjusting his seat slightly, he said, “We were actually going to come together, but it turned out she woke up with a fever. I gave her medicine and let her sleep.” Mom Amal gave a sly, cunning smile and said, “It seems Laylah is your second self! Look at how, even before marriage, she has practically become a bag slung over your shoulder!” With absolute disgust and detachment from the phrasing—which hit him unexpectedly—and a heart filled with the profound weight of the role he had embraced for Laylah as father, mother, and relative, he spoke with absolute sincerity: “May God forbid! Laylah is not among the women whom you should describe in that manner. I have taken Laylah as my own biological child, and I feel her in my flesh as though I gave birth to her myself. I will be the father, mother, and siblings she has lost. Please, Mom, do not ever harbor such a thought in your mind!” He finished speaking with utmost earnestness. Mom quickly retorted, “Well, is it forbidden?” Malam raised his hand and said, “Come now, since he said we should drop the matter, let's drop it.” Then he looked at Taj and asked, “You said you are traveling to Qatar today, right?” Taj shook his head and replied, “No, I am picking up American passengers first. Once I drop them off, I will pick up the Qatar passengers, and from Qatar, I will head back here.” Malam nodded and said, “May God help you. What about the hospital project and naming it?” As he accepted an apple handed to him by his Ummeey, he said, “Yes, everything has progressed, and all necessary steps have been taken. The new equipment has even been delivered.” He finished speaking while gently rolling the apple, signaling that there was more he wanted to say. “It was named Tajmuh Hospital, right?” Mom Amal asked. Without looking at her, he replied, “AL-AHLI AFISHA HOSPITAL.” He gave her a brief answer. Quickly, she said, “So why does it bear Malam's name, and who is the 'Sha' part?” Yah Hafiz adjusted his sitting position and said, “Because it is his own personal hospital, strictly his own and not Malam's. There is not even an ounce of Malam in it. As for the 'Sha' part, well, that's his secret, since you already figured out that 'Afi' is the beginning of his name.” Mom Amal shot a fierce, sideways, venomous glare at Yah Hafiz. As for Taj, his entire focus was on his father's altered demeanor. Ummeey, on the other hand, smiled happily at Hafiz's explanation; it was far better that they knew the truth so they wouldn't saddle her son with unfair accusations or tear him apart claiming their father was favoring him. In her heart, she planned that once Kabeer finished his medical degree, she would make Taj hand over the reins of the hospital to him.

Meanwhile, at Adaya's house, in deep distress, Abpu looked at Adaya's mother, let out a heavy sigh, and turned to Ma'aruf, saying: “By now, I am beginning to lose patience with that man's behavior. He arranged Adaya's marriage to his son, and now four full weeks have passed and we are entering the fifth, yet there is no sign of him, let alone his son.” He then looked at Adaya's mother, who was releasing sighs that indicated she had been crying. “This is why I never wanted this kind of marriage; letting her choose for herself would have been better for us.” She spoke as thin tears fell from her eyes. “Oh come on, Ummi, it was sheer necessity that forced Abpu to arrange this unconventional marriage for Adaya, to prevent her moral ruin and the wild lifestyle she had set her mind on,” Ma'aruf interjected. With a soft voice, Ummi said, “Well, what has the wedding actually prevented? Just since yesterday when she went out with Asina and Izzin, she still hasn't returned.” Filled with worry, Abpu said, “You are also to blame. You were too lenient with her, which is why she has no fear of going out.” Quickly, she responded, “I swear to God, there was nothing I didn't do to try to stop her from going out. Adaya rebelled completely, telling me that she must go out because now there are only a few months left before the dance competition, and all these months are for rehearsals.” Filled with frustration, Abpu stood up and walked out of the parlour.

Slowly, Taj entered Addawa's parlour, sat down quietly on a three-seater sofa, leaned back slightly, and closed his eyes. All day since dawn, he had been calling Ishmah, but she didn't answer. He sent her a text message, but there was no reply. He messaged her on WhatsApp—a platform she knew he used exclusively for her—and though she opened and saw it, she did not respond. He let out a short hiss, turned over onto his stomach, and closed his eyes, yet a soothing, refreshing warmth washed over him at the thought of her. As for Addawa, who hadn't said a word since answering his initial greeting—nor had he spoken another word to her—she simply kept her eyes fixed on him. “Are you alright? Why do you keep hissing?” Slowly, he shifted up into a sitting position and quickly grabbed his phone when it rang, thinking it was her. Instead, it was Aunty Rashida. Gently, he answered the call, greeted her, and added: “Apologies, Aunty Rashida. We arrived late last night, and today, as you know, it is Ummeey and Yah Abana's turn [to be visited].” He paused briefly and said, “In sha Allah, I will come. But today I am flying to America; when I return, I will come over and we can also visit Aunty Maryam's house.” After a brief chat, he ended the call and sat up as he heard Addawa complaining: “You don't play mind games with anyone except me. You bring troubles here, refuse to tell me what your problem is, and leave me worried while you go badger your parents. I swear, I fear that this deep secrecy of yours will bring trouble into your life. Now, what were you hissing about?” Softly, he said, “It's Ishmah.” She wore a knowing smile and said, “What did she do to you this time?” He stroked his sideburns and said, “All day since dawn, I have been calling her; she isn't picking up my calls. I texted her and got no response. Ever since we landed last night, she hasn't called me back.” Addawa exhaled a calm breath and said, “Well, like I keep telling you, you cannot live without her, yet you treat it like foolishness or old age. Look at you—just one single day without hearing from her and you are completely distressed! You love her, she loves you, and you are both deceiving your own hearts. When I tell you this, you think I don't know love, yet you are the one who is clueless about it.” He twisted his face in a pout and said, “Well, if people love each other, do they refuse to pick up each other's calls? See, your logic is flawed; if that were true, she wouldn't refuse to answer my calls.” Quickly, she retorted, “Perhaps your failure to show her you love her is what made her angry with you. Tell me, when you two parted ways, did you offend her in any way?” Softly, he began to mutter to himself, unaware he was speaking aloud: “I didn't offend her in any way. I only gave her counsel that she should marry, if only to bring happiness to her father, because he confided in me that he isn't happy with her lifestyle.” He quickly looked at Addawa as she said: “Hmmm, may God help you. If things go sour, you'll end up casting her aside when you feel like she's about to drive you crazy.” Gently, he extended his hand toward her and said, “Give me your phone.” She handed it to him, stood up, and headed to the kitchen. Taking the phone, he dialed Ishmah's number and called. On the first ring—right into the second—she answered. “Assalamu alaikum, Addawa.” With a soft, melting voice, he said, “Please forgive me and do not punish me by distancing yourself from me. Do not deny me the joy of hearing your voice. Please, our friendship doesn't deserve this, Maeeshah.” She let out a gentle breath and said, “Taj, wasn't it you who advised me to get married?” Softly, he replied, “Yeees.” Closing her eyes tightly, she said, “Well, that is why I am beginning to distance myself from you, because once I get married, it won't be possible for us to continue our friendship.” With deep distress, he said, “You forgot that you yourself said you and I aren't just friends; we are siblings/family.” Quickly, she replied, “Even so, once I am married, the kind of conversations we have will become forbidden.” In a soft voice, he pleaded, “Please, leave this matter alone, Maeeshah. Let me promise you that once you get married, I will distance myself from you with my own hands—the kind of distancing where you will never hear from me or see me again.” He spoke those words feeling as though separating from her meant separating from life itself. Hearing the profound gentleness in his voice, she relented: “Alright, no problem. Now prayer time is here; we will talk later.” Quickly, he asked, “Do you promise?” Without expecting to ever truly be far from him, she answered, “Yes, Taj, I promise I will continue talking with my bestie.” With that, they said their goodbyes.

Realizing that Maghrib prayer time had arrived, he performed ablution and headed to the mosque. Whenever he was in town, he led the prayers at the mosque near their doorstep.

That night, Taj's flight departed for America.

The next morning, Meymey was sitting in the parlour supporting Laylah's shoulder as she vomited continuously, her whole body limp and weak. Showing deep concern, Meymey said, “I am so sorry. Get up, let's go to the hospital; this vomiting has gone on long enough.” Overwhelmed by exhaustion and the severe lethargy she had carried ever since returning to Nigeria, Laylah struggled and stood up. With Meymey's assistance, they went to AABET Hospital.

An hour after arriving, they came out and headed straight to Taj's house.

They sat down in Ummeey's parlour. After greeting Ummeey respectfully, Meymey asked, “Is Malam inside?” With care and warmth, Ummeey replied, “Yes, he is inside. Shall we go?” She finished speaking while looking at Laylah, who was sitting limply. Then Ummeey's eyes followed her as she suddenly stood up and rushed toward the dining area. Thick saliva was spat into the handwashing basin in the dining area. Then she came back and sat down. Filled with astonishment at the various changes she observed in the young girl, Ummeey extended her hand and said, “Let's go greet Malam.”

Meymey stood up while casually tapping on her phone.

In the parlour, they found Mom Amal, Aryan, and Kabir. As they entered, Mom Amal fixed her eyes on Laylah, studying her intently. As for Laylah, weighed down by the agonizing fatigue overwhelming her life, she kept her lips tightly sealed because saliva kept filling her mouth. She desperately wanted to tell Ummeey about Ishmah, Minat, and Rahma, but alas, she had completely lost her energy. She sat beside Ummeey and leaned against her body. With intense surprise, Mom Amal exclaimed, “Goodness gracious! Why does Taj's bag look like someone carrying a pregnancy?!” With a sinking heart, Ummeey gasped, “Subhanallah! What kind of remark is that, Mom Amal?!” She finished speaking while watching how Laylah recoiled. Aryan quickly chimed in, “Well, she really does look like a pregnant woman.” Then he looked at Kabir, who remarked, “And I think she's just gained weight.” Meymey twisted her face in annoyance and snapped, “Oh Mom, you are going to give me a heart attack and kill me with these wicked assumptions of yours about our beloved girl! It's just Nigerian malaria, 🦟 maybe even typhoid!” Right at that moment, Malam emerged from his room, clearly having heard everything they were discussing, as he asked: “So, did you take her to the hospital, my daughter?” Quickly, Meymey answered, “Yes, Malam, we are actually just coming from the hospital, and she got medications.” Satisfied, he said, “May God grant her healing.”

They all chorused "Amin."

Five days later. Adaya stood in the center of the large hall where they held rehearsal classes for the dance competition they were to attend in three to four months—her sole and greatest ambition.

A sinister, hypnotic song and rhythm—an Ethiopian girls' dance track—was played for her. As the leader of the troupe, she stood at the front. Asina was to her right, and Bititi to her left (who was a non-Muslim/pagan). Behind them stood Izzin right in front of her, alongside three other men. They began a vigorous shoulder and chest dance.

They danced as if they had no bones in their bodies. As for Izzin, he danced out of his mind with frenzy, driven by the way Adaya's chest was spinning his thoughts completely out of control. With every twist and vigorous bounce, her breasts seemed ready to break free from her chest and fall to the floor. Startled by their proximity, he changed the style of their dance, stepping closer from behind. He wrapped his right arm around her slim waist and placed his left hand right on her chest. The rest of them did the same. He gripped her waist with immense strength, leaping and breaking his shoulders while she matched his energy fiercely. Driven by a desire that made her unable to process what he was doing to her, she threw caution to the wind. The others danced similarly. Meanwhile, the coach and others cheered and clapped for them. Thus, they danced away the entire night in this sinful frenzy.

When dawn broke, she returned home exhausted. “So now, Adaya, you swear to ruin your life for nothing and throw away your dignity and honor as a woman and a Muslim?” asked her mother. Yawning sleepily, Adaya muttered, “Please let me sleep, when I wake up we'll talk.” She finished speaking and threw her phone onto the bed, heading straight into the bathroom. Seeing this, her mother walked out with a heart burning with fury.

Eight days after leaving, Taj returned. He headed straight to his house first because Ummeey had informed him that Meymey and Laylah were there.

With astonishment, he stared at Laylah, who had turned alarmingly pale—almost taking on a yellowish tint—especially her forehead, which possessed a strange sheen. She had also gained weight unlike anything he had ever known.

Stunned, he stared at her, then turned to look at Meymey, who was mixing tea for her. “Ya Salam! What on earth is wrong with her?” With a scowl, Meymey replied, “I should be asking you that question, since I am not a doctor.” Frowning, he retorted, “I don't want any nonsense. Weren't you the one who took her to the hospital?” He finished speaking by pulling Laylah's hand and saying, “Get up, let's go to the hospital.” Quickly, Ummeey intervened, “They just returned from the hospital now.” She then looked at Zakiya, who was handing Laylah a piece of fresh, sticky date fruit (dabino) which Laylah had requested. With alarm, Ummeey muttered, “Lord! This situation is starting to scare me. All these things Laylah is doing are signs of a pregnant woman.” He neither understood Ummeey's remark nor cared to dwell on it. Without wasting time, he lifted Laylah and drove off to the hospital. He ran various tests on her, but they found no illness besides a bit of Nigerian malaria. From the hospital, he took her straight to Addawa's house.

Around 10:00 PM, Meymey looked at Ummeey softly and said, “Hmm, look, he still hasn't returned.” Ummeey nodded and said, “Let me call him.” She gave him three missed calls, but he did not pick up.

As for Taj, he and Laylah had already returned home, and Laylah had gone straight to her room. He had retired to his own suite. Thinking Meymey had already gone back home, he tossed his phones onto the center table in his parlour, which was why he didn't hear Ummeey's calls. Feeling exhausted, weary, and heavily sleepy, he rubbed his face, sprayed some perfume, stripped down, and wrapped one of his soft sleeping towels around his waist. He sat on the edge of the bed, whispered a prayer, wiped his face, and lay down to sleep—just as he always lived, sleeping in nothing but a towel or a simple wrapper. The moment his head hit the bed, sleep snatched him away.

Softly, Meymey said, “Ummeey, maybe Kabir can drive me back, because I know once Yah Afif is with Laylah, he forgets everything else.” She finished speaking with a hint of irritation. Ummeey sighed softly and called Kabir to come drive her home.

Alhamdulillah, Laylah's fatigue had reduced significantly since Taj gave her medications, though the excessive salivation remained.

Two days later, in the morning. Laylah was sitting beside Meymey at the dining table. Meymey popped her medications, handed them to her, and gave her water. She took them and drank. Taj's emergence from his room made her fix her gaze on him with something closely resembling fear. “Masha Allah, Laylah, how is your health?” He finished speaking while placing his hand on her neck. Frightened, she lowered her head and stammered, “I... I... i... it's better.” With concern, he asked, “What's wrong, Laylah? Why is your body shaking?” Quickly, she replied, “N... no... not... nothing.” Meymey, on the other hand, stared at him with sharp eyes, trying to uncover something. Right at that moment, a call from Ishmah came through on his phone. He answered the call while watching Laylah, who remained cringing in her seat. “Laylah's health is much better, Maeeshah.” He spoke, moving closer to Laylah, and extended the phone toward her, saying, “Here.” Meymey shot him a look filled with hidden motives. “Hello, Aunty Ishmah.”

“Hello. How are you feeling, Laylah?” With the soft, melting weariness that had become second nature to her, she replied, “Much better, actually.”

“Masha Allah. May God grant total healing. Make sure you're eating well, okay?” She nodded and asked, “Aunty, where is Minat?” Affectionately, Ishmah replied, “She is at their house.” With that, they exchanged pleasantries and ended the call. Taj took back his phone and walked out. He headed straight to Tajmuh Hospital. Upon arrival, he immediately commenced a Cesarean section procedure for nearly five patients, completing everything with the assistance of Dr. Farida and Dr. Adey.

Ten days after his return, Taj embarked on another trip—first to Bangladesh, from there to India, and after five days, he returned to Ethiopia.

Today, right from the morning, Laylah has woken up vomiting once again.

2. Summary of the Text

This chapter/excerpt weaves together three main storylines:

• Taj and Ishmah: Taj departs Nigeria for international flights, leaving behind heavy emotional turmoil as both he and Ishmah struggle with deep feelings of love, mutual dependency, and the painful reality of societal expectations (with Taj counseling Ishmah to marry to please her father, while secretly agonizing over losing her).
• Adaya's Rebellion: In stark contrast, Adaya plunges deeper into moral corruption, rebelling against her parents to rehearse aggressively with Izzin and others for an upcoming dance competition, crossing severe boundaries of modesty and Islamic values.
• Laylah's Mysterious Condition: Laylah (who lives under Taj's care) suffers from persistent fatigue, severe vomiting, and physical changes. While friends and family—especially Mom Amal and Ummeey—increasingly suspect she is pregnant, Taj remains oblivious, treating her like a daughter and rushing her to hospitals and clinics where standard tests only show malaria, culminating in a fresh wave of morning sickness upon Taj's return from his latest international trip.

3. Description of Setting & Characters

• Taj (Afif): A dedicated international pilot and medical benefactor who carries deep emotional burdens, acts as a paternal figure to Laylah, and is deeply (though restrainedly) in love with Ishmah.
• Ishmah (Maeesha): Taj's emotional anchor, torn between her affection for him and the pressure to marry someone else.
• Laylah: A young girl under Taj's protection whose sudden physical symptoms (fatigue, weight gain, morning sickness) spark heavy family gossip regarding a possible secret pregnancy.
• Adaya: A rebellious young woman prioritizing a secular dance competition over her family's honor and religious morals, slipping dangerously into inappropriate physical familiarity with her dance partner, Izzin.
• Ummeey & Mom Amal: The contrasting mother figures in Taj's household—Ummeey being protective and gentle, while Mom Amal is sharp, suspicious, and prone to casting cynical assumptions.

4. Analytics

5. Comments

• The author effectively uses parallel storytelling to contrast the disciplined, emotionally complex lives of Taj and Ishmah with the chaotic, rebellious path chosen by Adaya.
• The subtle clues surrounding Laylah's condition create dramatic irony: the reader and secondary characters (Mom Amal, Ummeey) strongly suspect pregnancy, while Taj remains stubbornly blind to it due to viewing her strictly as a daughter.

6. Conclusions

This narrative segment serves as a crucial bridge building up tension across multiple subplots. Taj's constant traveling keeps him physically detached from the brewing domestic storms at home, while the mounting evidence surrounding Laylah points toward an inevitable, high-conflict revelation that will shake Taj's household. Simultaneously, Adaya's descent into unchecked vanity threatens to bring public disgrace upon her family.

7. Keywords

• Taj (Afif)
• Ishmah (Maeesha)
• Laylah
• Adaya
• Aisha Aliyu Garkuwa
• Hausa Novel (Inda Rai)
• Tajmuh Hospital
• Family Drama

8. Quick-Reference Table