Kanwar Maza Book 1 Complete Novels

Description

English Translation

Daji Ajiyar Allah! (The Forest of God’s Trust!)

Twilight set in as the sun began to fade, dipping toward the west to set. The darkness of dusk tried to creep in and replace the lingering daylight before the sun completely went down. A dense cluster of trees—tall and uniform—combined with wild grass from various roots, surrounded the forest. It might have seemed appealing to a tourist who did not know what the forest contained. But to anyone who knew its contents, it was a place of extreme terror, fright, and anxiety.

She was running between life and death, clutching a cloth tightly to her chest. From a distance, it was impossible to tell what she was holding so dearly as she ran at top speed. Her feet were bare, her body had no headscarf, and despite the mild weather, her lips were as dry as a rock that had seen no rain for years. She had no idea where she was placing her feet. Yet, through this harrowing ordeal, she held onto the bundle against her chest with utmost care.

Unknowingly, she tripped over something she couldn't even identify. The force and weight of the object caused her to fall hard to the ground, letting out a pitiful cry as blood began to bleed from the back of her head. At that exact moment, the bundle she was clutching burst into cries, startled by the fall. It was a newborn baby, fresh from the womb, with the umbilical cord not even detached yet. Its body was covered in dried birth grime—clearly, the baby was a couple of days old, but it had never even seen water to wash off the filth!

Inside Kano (Ɗorayi Tanga)

In the city of Kano, specifically in the Ɗorayi Tanga neighborhood, around four o'clock on a Thursday afternoon, sat an average house within a small row of similar houses. A single glance at the dwellings revealed they belonged to low-income earners, judging by the makeshift drainage ditches and the haphazard layout. There were no proper gutters or neat lanes; every house faced whichever direction it pleased, and residents dug their drainage paths as they saw fit—some maintained, some neglected. The houses were tiny, practically stacked on top of one another.

"Will you come out and run this errand for me, or are you waiting for the charcoal to finish completely?" asked a young elderly woman sitting in front of a hearth, holding a hand fan and fanning it, while beside her sat a silver tray containing ground corn paste.

A young girl emerged from a room behind the woman, holding her hijab in one hand while wiping away tears with the other. The woman looked at her and asked, "What are you crying for?"

As if waiting for an opportunity, the girl whined petulantly, "Isn't it because Huzaifa..."

"Be quiet! You two always fight as if you want to eat each other's guts. If I stop you from going to him, you won't stop. Quickly take this money and go to Laure's house. Let her give you sixty naira worth of kuka leaves, forty naira of daddawa, and one hundred naira worth of red palm oil. Bring me the change so I can quickly mix the soup before dusk."

The girl made a sour face and groaned, "Oh no, not kuka soup again today! Innalillahi wa innalillahi raji'un!"

Mouth agape, the woman stared at the girl in disbelief and snapped, "If I cook the kuka soup, you won't drink it! Now take the money and get out, or I'll throw you out myself!"

She crouched, picked up the money, threw on her hijab, and headed out, wishing inwardly that they had nothing to eat today rather than this burdensome tuwo.

With a stern warning, the woman added, "And don't dawdle! Don't take your time, or you'll see what I'll do to you. Don't go stopping on the way to play foolish games with other kids!"

Without looking back, she walked off, gazing around.

She first stopped by her friend Habiba’s house and found Habiba’s mother getting her hair braided in the courtyard. She knelt to greet her and said she came for Habiba. Habiba came out of their room smiling and walked over to where she stood. "Where are you heading, Ruma?" she asked.

In a whispering tone, Ruma replied, "Habiba, please lend me Sani’s tire. Mama sent me on an errand, and I want to go and return quickly."

Habiba gasped, "Kaii! Ruma, you know Sani is more useless than dung. If I lend it to you and you misplace it, we’re both in big trouble!"

With absolute confidence, Ruma said, "I swear it won't get lost! Just lend it to me. I just want to run with it and come right back."

Habiba pulled Ruma into their entrance porch, checked on top of the chicken cage in the narrow hallway, and retrieved Sani's tire for Ruma. "Please, Ruma, be careful. Don't let anything happen to this tire. Hurry up and go and come back."

Ruma smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll fly there and back. I want Sani's tire so bad—he should just give it to me permanently. You'll see, I'll be back in a flash."

Habiba smiled, "Alright then, hurry before he comes back."

Ruma grabbed the tire, rolled it, and sprinted through the alleys like a boy rather than a girl. She didn't stop rolling the tire until she reached Laure's house. She completed her purchases, came back out, and rolled the tire on her way home.

On the way, she spotted some Quranic school pupils playing games outside Hanne's grinding mill. Completely forgetting Mama's strict warning, she dropped her errand items, the change, and the borrowed tire, and joined the game.

Being an expert at street play and cunning maneuvers, the game quickly heated up. Seeing that she was easily defeating them, the game turned into a fight, and then a full-blown brawl. Ruma knocked down one of the girls who was as strong as an ox. A man eventually broke up the fight. Ruma beat up the other children, and the man had to threaten to report her to her older brothers before she finally backed down.

The girl she fought with, furious over the disrupted grinding and the beating, teamed up with her siblings to rip open Ruma's package of palm oil, spilling it. They stole the errand change, tore open the packaging, and ran off. Only a few scraps of daddawa were salvageable, and the kuka leaves were torn and scattered everywhere.

She gathered the remaining items and headed home, agonizing over what lie to tell Mama to escape her wrath, since she hated Mama's punishments more than anything. On the other hand, she was plotting how to deal with Safiya at the Quranic school later for what she did.

By the time Ruma reached home, the call to Maghrib prayer had already sounded, and some neighborhood mosques had already commenced the prayer. Panic and fear gripped her. She crept into the porch, peeking into the courtyard to see Mama performing ablution by the soakaway. Mama raised her head, shot her one look, and went back to her ablution without a word.

Stealthily, Ruma slipped in, watching Mama sideways, waiting for her to say something—but silence met her. She tiptoed to drop the remnants of the errand, rushed into the bathroom to perform ablution, and crept into the parlor to join Mama in prayer.

Once Mama finished, she got up, went to the courtyard to inspect the wrecked items Ruma brought back, and returned to the parlor expecting Ruma to finish her prayers so she could pounce on her. But Ruma refused to finish; she started performing endless supererogatory prayers (nafila) for no reason at all. Normally, Mama even had to beat her just to get her to finish her mandatory prayers, but tonight she was suddenly super devout.

When Mama realized Ruma's prayers were dragging on indefinitely, she grabbed her by the scruff of the neck from behind, dragged her to a sitting position, and asked with a scowl, "Whose house did you go to when I sent you on an errand?"

Trembling with fear, Ruma shook her head, "Nowhere, Mama."

"You're lying! Tell me or I'll twist your neck. I sent you out since La'asar and you're only returning at Maghrib. Whose house did you visit?"

With wide, rolling eyes, Ruma shook her head, swearing frantically, "I swear by God, Mama, I didn't go anywhere!"

In furious anger, Mama barked, "Are you not going to tell me?!"

"Mama, I swear I'm telling the truth!"

"Assalamu alaikum," came a voice from the courtyard.

Mama answered the greeting while panting. A young man walked into the room, saying, "Mama, I'm back."

Mama replied, "Welcome back."

He acknowledged it, then looked at Mama towering over Ruma, who was rolling her eyes like she wanted to curse a king. "Mama, what's going on?" he asked, wanting to know the root of the matter.

With bitterness, Mama explained, "Because of this girl's stubbornness, I sent her to Laure's house to buy soup ingredients right after La'asar, and she's just entering my house now. No errand, no explanation, and no change! I tried everything to make her tell me where she stopped, but she refuses and just keeps swearing."

He looked at Ruma and asked, "Won't you say where you stopped? And where is the change? Or did you go and spend her money like you always do?"

Defiant and insolent, Ruma snapped, "I don't know! And who asked you to poke your nose into this? You big-headed... you're not the one being spoken to..."

Before she could finish, Mama landed a heavy slap across her mouth, making her feel as though her lips had split.

Ruma recoiled quickly, clutching her mouth and wringing her hands from the severe pain.

The young man shook his head and said, "Mama, leave her be. Since she lacks manners, don't stress yourself. Wait until Baba's namesake or Haidar comes in; they will interrogate her properly."

Hearing that name made Ruma jolt in terror. She cried out, "Mama, I swear I'm telling the truth! For God's sake, don't tell them! The change fell on the way, I fell down, and the palm oil spilled. Please, I beg you, don't tell them!"

"She's lying, Mama! You know her lies are bottomless. Interrogate her properly when Baba's namesake returns—you'll get the beating of your life."

Convinced, Mama nodded, "That's exactly what we'll do since she has no respect."

Behind Mama's back, the young man made a mocking face at Ruma.

"Mama, look at him, he's laughing at me! Please have mercy."

Mama ignored her and gave Huzaifa money to go buy the provisions again.

Rumaisa sat in a corner with her chin resting on her hands, her heart pounding with dread at what fate awaited her if Baba's namesake or Haidar found out. Even if she were drunk, she knew she couldn't confess the full truth to Mama. She muttered endless prayers, begging God to shield her disgrace and whispering silent curses under her breath at Huzaifa for suggesting they involve Haidar and Umar.

While deep in thought, she heard Mama and Huzaifa chatting amicably in the courtyard as if no fight had just occurred, while Mama finished cooking her soup.

Another greeting echoed in the courtyard. Ruma panicked, as their voices sounded similar, though she calmed down slightly realizing this voice was softer and gentler.

She heard Mama say, "Fodiyo, you're back?" "Yes, Mama, how is the house?" "Alhamdulillah. Go wash up while I finish the soup."

Usman, whom Mama called Fodiyo, said, "Mama, take this," as he dropped a nylon bag.

Ruma stood up, peeking through the window, trying to figure out what was inside Fodiyo's bag. She thought to herself, “Please let it be fish. If it's fish, they better give me my share, because I'm not drinking that black kuka soup if there's fish!”

Before she could identify the contents of the bag, her eyes locked directly onto her grim reaper—who had walked into the house without even greeting. He gave her a terrifying, fierce look, or perhaps it was just her own intense fear exaggerating it.

It was Baba's namesake, Umar Faruk.

With his characteristic swaggering stride, he walked to the center of the courtyard and finally offered a greeting.

Ruma clutched her head, whispering under her breath, "I am finished! My bones are as good as dry kindling if he finds out what I did."

From the moment he arrived, he didn't speak to anyone. He simply dropped his bag of provisions for Mama and walked straight to their room. Shortly after, he emerged to perform ablution.

Ruma sneaked out like a culprit, bowed slightly, and whispered, "Yaya Faruk, welcome back."

He raised his eyes, looked at her coldly without a word, turned away, and continued his ablution.

Panic flooded her stomach. She grabbed a broom and rushed into Mama's parlor to sweep—though anyone could tell that sweeping was far from devout. Huzaifa sneaked behind Mama's back to peer into the parlor, bursting into silent laughter at her misery.

Normally, if she wasn't in such deep distress, she would have started a fierce brawl with Huzaifa right then and there. But she knew picking a fight with Huzaifa while Faruk was in the house was a monumental disaster that would end in bitter tears.

"Won't you come out and dish yourself some food to eat?" Mama shouted loudly enough for her to hear from inside.

From the room, Ruma called back, "Mama, I'm full."

Exasperated, Mama yelled back, "Full on what?! What did you put aside to eat? Are you coming out to eat or not?!"

Ruma pouted and stayed silent.

Usman chimed in, "Well, you know you cooked her enemy's meal, especially the kuka soup. If it were a different soup, maybe she'd eat."

Mama retorted, "I'm not going to cook a separate meal just for her. Is she going to starve because she won't eat tuwo?"

In a harsh, stern voice, Umar commanded, "Leave her be. Since it's her own stomach, let her go to bed hungry."

Mama nodded, "Alright then."

Hearing just his voice sent another wave of terror through her. She intensified her prayers, begging God to cover her shame so Mama wouldn't tell him about her offense.

The young men gathered around Mama, chatting away while Baba's namesake sat quietly checking his phone, ignoring them all.

Seeing them chat without Mama mentioning her misbehavior filled Ruma with hope. She hurriedly performed Isha'i prayers, spread her mattress, and lay down, continuing her silent prayers.

"Assalamu alaikum," came another greeting from the courtyard.

Everyone answered in unison, turning to look at the young boy and girl who had just entered. Despite the bright electric lights, Mama didn't recognize the children at first.

They greeted Mama and Umar. Mama looked closely and asked, "Habiba, what brings you here?"

Habiba replied, "Is Ruma here?"

Umar immediately intercepted, "Why do you ask?"

Due to his overwhelming aura, Habiba faltered slightly before explaining, "Actually, earlier today she was sent on an errand and came to ask me to lend her a tire because she needed to run Mama's errand. It was Sani's tire; she promised to return it immediately, but up till now, there's been no sign of her."

In shock, Mama exclaimed, "A tire?!" Habiba nodded.

Ruma had completely forgotten about the borrowed tire until Habiba brought it up, having abandoned it at the grinding mill during the street fight. She clutched her head in despair, "I am finished! Habiba, you have killed me!"

Mama shouted, "Where are you? Come out here, you unruly girl! I asked you over and over again where you stopped, and you swore you didn't stop anywhere. So you went tire-hunting instead?! Acting like a 'boyish sister'—what do you have to do with bicycle/car tires? Are you mad?! Come out here and return their property right now!"

Trembling, Ruma emerged and stood by the doorway of Mama's parlor, stealing nervous glances at Umar, who acted as though nothing was happening.

"Ma-ma-ma... Mama, I swear I just wanted to be fast, that's why I borrowed the tire. And I swear I forgot and left it outside Hanne's grinding mill!"

Mama held her chin in utter disbelief, completely speechless.

Huzaifa shook his head, "Girl, if you are destined to ever have sense, may God guide you! What business do you have with a tire when you're a girl?"

Mama looked at Habiba and her younger sibling and pleaded, "Please, you must forgive her. Ever since she left, I've been waiting for her myself; I never sent her to collect anyone's property. First thing tomorrow morning, God willing, I will send her to bring it back to you."

With that, Habiba and her sibling turned and left.

Mama sat down and began a relentless lecture, airing all her grievances, backed up by Usman. Ruma, knowing she was entirely in the wrong, retreated to her mattress, her heart hammering as she waited for Yaya Umar to speak. But he remained completely silent.

Eventually, everyone dispersed from the courtyard. Mama came into the room and found Ruma pretending to be fast asleep with her eyes squeezed shut. Mama continued her nagging until Ruma felt like fleeing the room, wishing Mama's tongue had an off-switch. Yet, deep down, she thanked God that her "Dodona" (Umar) hadn't spoken up yet.

A deep, blissful sleep finally overtook her. But right in the middle of it, without any warning, she felt herself being hoisted into the air with a single hand!

"Wayyo Allah na! Innalillahi wa innalillahi raji'un! My left arm is going to break, Mama!"

He dumped her unceremoniously right in the middle of the courtyard. Their eyes locked, and she saw who was responsible. Her body started shaking violently—just the look in his eyes when he was angry was terrifying.

In her heart, she thought, “That’s it, my time is up. May I die with faith and goodness!”

Summary

The story opens in a dark, eerie forest where a desperate, barefoot woman is running for her life while clutching a newborn baby tightly to her chest. She trips and falls, injuring the back of her head, which startles the newborn—an unwashed, days-old baby still attached to its umbilical cord.

The scene shifts dramatically to a bustling, low-income neighborhood in Ɗorayi Tanga, Kano. Rumaisa (Ruma), a mischievous and stubborn teenage girl, is sent on an errand by her stern mother to buy soup ingredients (kuka, daddawa, and palm oil). Disobeying her mother, Ruma stops by her friend Habiba's house to borrow a bicycle/cart tire to speed through her chores. Along the way, she gets distracted by children playing outside a grinding mill and joins a street brawl, where she beats up other kids and causes a scene. In the chaos, her errand money is stolen, her palm oil is spilled, her kuka leaves are scattered, and she abandons the borrowed tire.

Ruma returns home late at night just as Maghrib prayers are underway, terrified of her mother's wrath. She tries to hide her misdeeds and even prolongs her prayers with fake devotion to avoid confrontation. However, when Habiba arrives later to claim her borrowed tire, Ruma’s lies unravel completely.

The household's strict disciplinarian, Umar Faruk (Baba's namesake), is informed. After a night of intense psychological and physical interrogation—complete with holding her ears and enduring severe scolding—Ruma is forced to face the harsh consequences of her stubbornness and deceit, leaving her broken, exhausted, and regretful.

Description

• Setting: The narrative transitions from a dark, suspenseful, and terrifying forest on the outskirts to a cramped, chaotic, and vibrant low-income neighborhood in Ɗorayi Tanga, Kano. The family home is a typical modest Kano residence featuring a central courtyard, a shared parlor, an entrance porch (soro), and basic outdoor cooking setups.
• Atmosphere: The story balances high-stakes suspense and thriller elements (the opening forest scene) with domestic realism, cultural nuances of Northern Nigerian family life, teenage mischief, and strict disciplinary parenting.

Analytics

• Character Dynamics & Power Structures:
  • Mama: Represents the overwhelmed, hardworking traditional mother who relies on corporal punishment and nagging to keep her children in line.
  • Ruma: The quintessential "kanwar maza" (tomboy/rebellious girl) whose impulsive nature, defiance, and addiction to street play constantly land her in trouble.
  • Umar Faruk (Yaya Umar): The imposing, authoritative figure of the household whose mere presence commands absolute fear and respect, acting as the ultimate arbiter of discipline.
  • Huzaifa & Usman (Fodiyo): Supporting male siblings who either exacerbate Ruma's troubles through teasing or maintain neutral distance.
• Themes Explored:
  • Disobedience and its inevitable consequences.
  • The strict nature of traditional Northern Nigerian domestic discipline.
  • Childhood mischief versus adult accountability.
  • Contrast between eerie, life-or-death survival (the prologue) and chaotic domestic life.

Comments

• Pacing & Narrative Hook: The author (Aisha Adam / Ayshercool) employs a brilliant narrative hook by opening with a dark, cinematic thriller prologue that instantly grabs the reader's attention, before seamlessly transitioning into a relatable, humorous, yet tense domestic drama.
• Realism: The dialogue captures authentic Hausa household banter, sibling rivalry, neighborhood dynamics (such as borrowing tires to race, street brawls near grinding mills, and running errands for soup ingredients), making the characters feel vibrant and lifelike.
• Character Growth (Potential): Ruma’s persistent refusal to learn her lesson despite severe punishments highlights the classic stubborn adolescent trope, setting the stage for significant character development as the story progresses.

Conclusions

This excerpt successfully establishes a compelling dichotomy between high-stakes mystery (the woman in the forest with the newborn) and gritty, authentic domestic realism (Ruma’s chaotic day in Kano). It highlights the cultural realities of discipline, peer influence, and family hierarchy in a traditional Hausacord setting. While Ruma’s rebellious streak brings endless headache to her family, it provides rich comedic and dramatic tension, leaving the reader eager to see how her disciplinary arc with Yaya Umar unfolds and how the mysterious opening prologue ties into the main plot.

Follow-up Question

How would you like to proceed with the remaining parts or chapters of Ƙanwar Maza?