Kyalkyallin Kauna Book Compeleted

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Kyalkyallin Kauna Book Compeleted 

Because Abie was outside, it made him say nothing as he lifted her completely and carried her upstairs, with Aunty Mimi following closely behind. They headed straight to Mamie's room as Aunty Mimi had instructed.

A massive, heavy sigh of relief escaped her the moment he laid her gently on the bed. Ever since he had picked her up, she had held her breath, tightly closing her eyes while her heart raced uncontrollably. He, too, was struggling to suppress his own racing heartbeat, which hammered against his chest so violently that his breath practically seized. He released a matching sigh of relief, though his was exhaled silently. Mamie’s greeting cut through the air, forcing him to swallow whatever was churning inside him. He took the tray from her hands with a slight smile, saying, "Mamie, yourself?"

Mamie smiled back without saying a word, shooting a side-eye at Anam, who was lying flat, catching her breath. "Such dramatic whining—who’s enjoying this now? I really want to see how you're going to survive the pregnancy, let alone labor day. Your husband has truly seen things with you!"

Aunty Mimi burst into laughter, while Anam puffed out her cheeks in a pout. She stole a quick glance at Shareff and instantly locked eyes with him. His intense gaze trapped her, and it took a tremendous effort for her to tear her eyes away before a fit of choking coughs overtook her. A strange, uninterpretable emotion flickered deep within his pupils, making every hair on her body stand on end. The coughs refused to subside until Aunty Mimi gently pulled her up into a sitting position and patted her back. Acting as though he had nothing to do with her distress, Shareff nonchalantly handed the glass of water to Aunty Mimi. Aunty fed it to her, and she drank deeply until the coughing finally stopped, leaving her eyes flushed red. Mamie murmured words of comfort and moved to leave, wanting to give them space; since they were all trying to show care, it wouldn't do for her to linger.

He remained standing until Aunty Mimi instructed Anam to begin eating, placing the tray across her lap. Slowly, she began to eat, muttering quiet complaints internally about his presence in the room. Unbeknownst to her, he heard her, as he showed no intention of leaving. Aunty Mimi stood up and walked out after her husband called her phone.

Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the clinking of the spoon against the plate. She was barely eating properly, completely overwhelmed—she couldn't even tell if she felt anger or shyness, because what had happened earlier at her house refused to leave her mind. Believing he had finally left the room, she dared a glance upward to steal a look at him, only to lock eyes with him once more. She quickly dropped her gaze back to her food, her face tightening into a scowl.

(Just look at this stare), she thought to herself.

As if he heard her exact thoughts, he slid his phone into his pocket and let out a sharp, thin hiss. "You're good at nothing except staring at people—pure laziness."

Unable to hold back, she snapped her head up, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Me? When I wasn't even looking at you, how would you know I was..."

"What!" he interjected, his voice hardening as his eyes widened sharply at her. "Wait, since when did I become your playmate in this house?"

She refused to answer, her bottom lip jutting out so far it looked like it could touch the ceiling. Internally, she prayed desperately that Aunty Mimi would return before he started raining slaps across her face. Seeing him step closer, she blurted out quickly, "Well, your wife acted wild in front of everyone earlier and you didn't punish her—only me! And I will definitely avenge the blood of mine that was spilled." She finished the sentence as hot tears, carving a permanent path of grievance down her face, began racing down her cheeks.

He froze completely, staring at her. She was weeping bitterly, like someone who had just been struck, struggling for over a minute to regain her breath. Slowly, he shut his eyes tightly and blew a short breath from his mouth. There was no sign of him offering comfort; instead, he just stood in silence. She, however, allowed her tears to flow harder, fueled by a bitter anger and resentment toward him that reignited her frustration. If her foot weren't injured, she would have fled the room right then...

"K, how many times must I forbid you from mingling with that boy, yet you treat me like a fool? He is not a mahram to you, whereas she is my wife!"

For the first time since she started crying, she raised her bloodshot eyes and locked them dead into the center of his. He stared right back into the center of hers...

She was the first to pull away, muttering under her breath, "I will never be separated from my lover."

His words hit him squarely in the chest with massive force. But before he could make a move, they were interrupted.

"What is going on in here?" Aunty Mimi asked as she walked in, laughing.

Anam immediately averted her eyes, slid down without a word, and pulled the blanket over herself. Shareff drew a sharp breath, his shoulder hitching in a posture reminiscent of defiant embarrassment. "Nothing, Aunty. I'm heading home, goodnight." Before she could reply, he bolted out.

She watched him until he vanished through the doorway, then turned her attention back to Anam, who was exhaling heavy sighs. Without a word of inquiry, she helped her sit up, fed her the remaining meal herself along with her medication, and then fixed her with a direct, serious look. Straight to the point, she asked, "My child, do you love Shareff?!"

"God forbid, Ummie!" Anam blurted out, cutting Aunty Mimi off instantly.

"Sure?"

"Yes, Ummie."

The sheer confidence in her answer caused Aunty Mimi to narrow her eyes, scanning her up and down. Without a trace of joking, she asked, "Then IF THERE IS NO LOVE, WHERE ON EARTH DOES JEALOUSY COME FROM?!"

"Jealousy, Aunty? Why on earth would I be jealous of him?"

Aunty Mimi didn't offer a single reply; she simply locked her gaze on Anam as fresh tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes. Shrugging slightly, Aunty Mimi said, "Okay fine, go to sleep."

Anam curled up, whispering silent prayers to never fall in love with this man, though her lips moved without any sound escaping them.

★★

He drove slowly, acting as if he didn't want to drive at all or as though he were the only soul on the highway. Multiple cars had to honk before he would lazily swerve to let them pass, while Fadwa's relentless phone calls buzzed continuously. He ignored them past the seventh call, but by the eighth, he angrily snatched the phone off the charger and jammed it to his ear, though he remained completely silent because when his temper flared, he preferred speaking not a single word...

"My son!"

Aunty Mimi's voice caught him entirely off guard. He whipped the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. Sure enough, it was Aunty Mimi, not Fadwa. He swallowed hard, scrambling to compose himself. "Yes, Small Mom, or did I forget something?"

"It seems so, since you had to ask—you probably did."

He let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he angled the car toward the entrance of his street. "Oh, Aunty, it sounds like you're just looking for a debate."

"Pretty much, but I'll cut straight to the point, just like I did on the other end."

He smoothly parked the car right outside the gate, though he didn't honk. "Alright, I'm all ears, my mother!"

"My son, do you love Anam?!"

If he had been drinking water or eating food at that exact moment, he undoubtedly would have choked, because Small Mom's sudden question broadsided him. He swallowed hard, feeling his throat go bone-dry. Struggling to anchor his voice, he replied directly, "I got married just a week ago, Mom."

"I'm not asking about the history of your wedding; I haven't forgotten the calendar either. Just give me my answer."

He slammed his hand lightly against the steering wheel, biting down on his lips. Desperate to deflect any deeper thought from her mind, he answered with a steady, unyielding tone.

"Aunty, I only love my wife. There is no one else in my heart."

Aunty Mimi fell silent, then let out a soft, audible chuckle that he could hear through the speaker. With firm composure, she asked, "Sure?"

"Without a shred of doubt, Mom."

"Okay fine. But then... IF THERE IS NO LOVE, WHERE DOES JEALOUSY COME FROM?!"

"Jealousy?! If anything, it's just family kinship."

Aunty Mimi let out a light laugh. "Indeed." And she disconnected the call.

Like a man whose physical strength had been entirely sucked out of his body, he slumped backward, collapsing flat against the car seat. He closed his eyes, their color visibly altered, and left them shut for several long minutes. He couldn't muster the energy to honk the horn, let alone step out of the car. Meanwhile, his phone buzzed with calls—undoubtedly Fadwa—yet he remained utterly paralyzed. After a good twelve minutes passed, the gatemaker finally grew tired of peeking out with a face full of baffled concern and gave a short honk for him.

She practically sprinted out of the house, her anger from his ignored calls temporarily shelved because Sima's advice had provided her with a tactical workaround: she would no longer wear herself out fighting him head-on. Instead, she threw herself at him the moment he opened the door, clamping her arms around his neck. Ignoring his drained state, she crashed her lips onto his. He tried to pull her away, turning his head aside mindful of the gatemaker whom he knew could see them, but she blocked his every attempt. Forced to take charge, he shoved the car door open with his foot, hoisted her entirely into his lap after forcefully breaking their kiss, and collapsed back into the seat. Unfazed, she immediately re-anchored her lips to his. He didn't want any of this right now, but he refused to deny her what she felt was her due—even if they had been fighting—because he wanted zero external drama or friction with his family. That was a solemn promise he had made to himself, insha Allah; he would deal with her faults and mete out punishment whenever he was actually ready.

Even though he lacked a single ounce of enthusiasm, she danced to her own tune without a care in the world. Only when she was certain she had delivered her intended message did she pull back, gazing deep into his eyes with an expression saturated in love and adoration.

"I love you, my Soulmate."

He lowered his eyelids halfway, then opened them to stare at her. Without a single word, he reached out and pinched the tip of her nose. Then, his gaze swept across the tidy interior of the living room. Seeing everything neat and clean made his lingering irritation fade a fraction. He pulled her slightly closer into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her nose. "This is how I want to see you and this house looking at all times."

She nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. "You'll always find me doing my part."

"May Allah bless you. Let me go wash up quickly."

"Or maybe start by eating something."

He gave her a long, appraising look for a few seconds. "Are you sure it hasn't burned today?"

"Allah, it hasn't!"

"Okay, let's go."

Even though he had zero appetite, he forced himself to eat, because the meal was impeccably cooked without a single flaw. He ate simply to give her the positive reinforcement to keep cooking, praising her efforts and offering a blessing.

★★★★★

Days continued to slip by, and Anam steadily regained the use of her injured foot. Since that day, she hadn't laid eyes on Shareff during visiting hours. Occasionally, she'd hear word that he had stopped by when she was out, or Amrah would mention his visit. It seemed almost intentional—he timed his arrivals precisely for when she wasn't in the living room. She didn't mind at all; at this stage, she didn't want to see him anyway. She preferred keeping her distance so that Aunty Mimi's suspicions about her feelings would vanish for good.

After five days, her foot healed completely, and she resumed going to work. Every morning, she made it a point to visit the wives in the main house, adhering to Mamie's strict reminders. However, she limited her visits exclusively to Mom and Aunty Amarya, intentionally bypassing Mommy and Gwaggo’s sections. For work, she usually traveled alongside Khaleel; sometimes he brought her back, other times Yaseer did. She had grown somewhat comfortable around Yaseer because he displayed zero romantic inclination, treating her purely as a friend. Muzzaffar had also tried multiple times to pick her up from her office, but she gave him zero encouragement. Consequently, he shifted tactics and started coming directly to the house, determined to win over a married woman. Though she initially resisted, she began warming up slightly following Aysha's coaching. Still, she refused outright to accept his romantic overtures. She tolerated him out of respect for his father, who was Abie’s longtime childhood best friend—they had attended secondary school together and currently ran business ventures side by side.

Just like that, Shareff’s vacation days ran out, and Maheer had also returned to Katsina for his posting the previous week. Initially, Shareff wouldn't visit in the mornings; he'd only drop by after closing from work to greet them. On the very day he came to bid farewell to Aunty Mimi and the family before their departure back to Malaysia (since the children's school term was starting), he arranged for Yaseer to drop Anam off at the house. Yaseer walked right inside the main house to greet Mamie, and judging by the warm reception he received, it was clearly not his first time—he had practically become part of the household. Shareff didn't utter a word. When Yaseer offered a greeting, Shareff merely raised a hand lazily, then stood up and walked out before the farewells were even finished. Aunty Mimi watched him go with a quiet laugh, while Anam rolled her eyes and refocused her attention on Yaseer, laughing at one of Amrah's jokes as if Shareff didn't even exist. Even when he had walked in earlier, she had curtly muttered, "Yaya, good evening," and kept moving. He hadn't bothered answering her either, casting a hard glare down at her feet while keeping his head bowed over his phone.

The next morning, Shareff was part of the convoy that saw Aunty Mimi off to the airport, heading straight to his office afterward. Anam traveled with Khaleel, who hit her with a strict warning: if she ever dared take another car home, he would come pick her up himself, even if he had to leave work early. She didn't answer him, but she tracked him with a bewildered stare. True to his word, he showed up waiting for her before closing hours, and the routine repeated the next day, continuing for nearly two weeks until Mamie and the others began preparing for their own return abroad.

That was when panic set in for Anam. She broke down in tears, begging to accompany Mamie back, but Mamie put her foot down hard. Mamie tore into her verbally before switching to soothing counsel and lectures. Helpless, Anam had to watch as they departed, leaving her behind in Nigeria all over again. Back inside the family compound, she relocated to Mom’s section because her own house remained locked up. She spent the entire day moping around like a sick person, eventually running a fever that required Khaleel to fetch medicine for her.

Mamie’s flight left on a Friday, so Anam stayed put all weekend, preparing for work on Monday. She dressed in one of the flowing abayas Mamie had gifted her, slipping her National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) attire underneath because the morning chill was biting. Her subtle, gentle perfume drifted around her as she stepped out. Her skin was a rich, glowing black—the epitome of an authentic African beauty. She joined Mom at Mom's personal dining space for breakfast, nibbling on whatever she could manage, crafted tirelessly by Mom's endless care. Barely eating anything, she pushed the plate away and murmured, "Alhamdulillah."

"You're already full?" Mom asked, eyeing her.

Anam offered a soft, melancholic smile, shaking her head as she remained enveloped in a gloomy haze. "I really am, Mom. Today I just don't feel like eating anything at all."

"You'll probably get hungry later."

"Okay Mom, let me just take it with me to the office."

Mom packed the food into a sleek, insulated cooler without a fuss. Anam waited for Khaleel to finish his tea, planning to catch him outside as he stopped by to greet the household residents. Hoping to avoid stepping anywhere near Mommy’s section—where she hadn't set foot since before Mamie’s departure—she decided to wait for him out by the car.

Roughly four minutes after Khaleel walked out, she followed. She scanned the courtyard for his car, but there was no sign of it. Figuring he might have pulled up closer to the gate, she headed in that direction so they could just leave once he appeared.

Near the gate, she spotted Khaleel's car alongside a mechanic, parked right beside an unfamiliar vehicle. She paused, staring at the strange car parked next to Khaleel's. It looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn't remember whose it was or when she could have possibly seen it... A sharp honk cut off her train of thought. The mechanic working on Khaleel's car glanced up at her. "Hajiya, I think they're calling for you."

Her grasp of Hausa had improved significantly compared to when she first arrived. She simply nodded at him without a word. Initially, she didn't think to approach, but then she changed her mind, wondering if Yaseer had pulled some disguise stunt. A small smile touched her lips at the thought as she walked toward the car.

The slow, subdued grace of her walk riveted his eyes to her in deep analysis. Beneath the faint smile lingering on her lips, there was no real sign of joy or high spirits.

Convinced it was Yaseer, she walked up to the passenger side without a second thought, pulled the door open, and hopped in with a light laugh. "Really, Yaseer? You think a silly disguise is going to make me fail to recognize y—"

The rest of the words died instantly in her throat, choked off by the rich, distinct scent of cologne that she finally had the clarity to identify. She whipped her head around before she could even pull the car door fully shut. Panic pierced straight through her chest at her catastrophic blunder. Trying to maintain composure and swallow her terror, she stammered, "Oh, Yaya, I'm so sorry! I honestly thought you were Yaseer. Good morning!"

Silence stretched on as if he hadn't heard her. He didn't spare her a single glance. Instead, he lifted his bloodshot, reddened eyes and locked them directly onto her. Outwardly, she scrambled to suppress and mask her fear, raising a hand toward the door handle to yank it open and escape to fresh air, only to find it locked.

(Dear Allah, this man might actually devour me alive in this car—I better tread very carefully), she thought frantically.

Putting on a pitiful, pleading face, she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Yaya, please forgive me, Wallahi I didn't know it was you."

Without uttering a single syllable, he slammed the car into gear and rocketed forward, nearly running over the mechanic still inspecting Khaleel's car.

She recited verses of Allah under her breath, knowing full well that today, her flesh was destined to be chewed up by this monster...

"What did I tell you about that boy the other day?!" he snapped in a harsh, abrasive voice the moment they merged onto the main highway.

She shot him a stiff, unyielding look, though she quickly looked away because his glare was far more intimidating than her facade. Pouting with feigned annoyance, she muttered, "Me? Yaya, I don't even know who you're talking about."

He didn't grace her with an answer, keeping his eyes locked on the road until he pulled over a short distance past her office.

She stared at him in bewilderment. "Yaya, why did you stop h—?"

The bloodshot, exhausted eyes he fixed directly onto her made her swallow the rest of her sentence dryly. She tried to avert her gaze, but his intense, trapping stare made it impossible. "You're going to sit there and tell me you don't know who I'm talking about?"

With immense effort, she dragged her eyes downward, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs because his mood terrified her to her core. She squeezed her eyes shut the second she felt his calloused fingertips grip her chin, forcing her face upward and pulling her close enough that their breaths mingled.

"Open them, or I will slap you!!"

She snapped her eyes open instantly; their suffocating proximity was entirely too disorienting. Even he could hear the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat, betrayed by the violent, rapid rising and falling of her chest.

Analytical DimensionDetailed Breakdown & Insights Narrative SummaryThis excerpt captures a tense chapter in a domestic drama involving Anam and Shareff. Following a medical scare where Shareff carries an exhausted Anam to her room, simmering tensions and jealousy bubble to the surface during a family visit. Aunty Mimi sharply interrogates both Anam and Shareff about hidden romantic jealousies, which both vehemently deny despite visible emotional reactions. Later, after Shareff departs to manage his relationship with Fadwa, weeks pass and family members (Mamie, Aunty Mimi) travel back abroad, leaving Anam isolated in Nigeria. The chapter culminates in a heart-stopping morning incident where Anam mistakes Shareff for Yaseer and accidentally climbs into Shareff's car, triggering a fierce, territorial confrontation. Character Descriptions• Anam: Vulnerable yet fiercely defensive; navigating physical recovery while dealing with emotional confusion, suppressed feelings, and a stubborn refusal to submit to Shareff’s intimidation. • Shareff: Dominant, emotionally guarded, and intensely possessive. He masks his inner turmoil and jealousy behind a cold, authoritarian exterior, particularly regarding Anam's interactions with other men. • Aunty Mimi: Astute, perceptive, and orchestrative. She acts as an emotional detective, easily seeing through superficial denials to uncover underlying romantic tensions. • Yaseer & Khaleel: Protective familial figures providing stable, non-romantic friendship and transport support to help Anam navigate her daily routine. • Fadwa: Persistent and demanding, representing external romantic friction in Shareff’s life through relentless phone calls. Literary Analytics & Techniques• Subtextual Dialogue: The repeated motif ("If there is no love, where on earth does jealousy come from?") serves as a psychological anchor, exposing the disconnect between what the characters say aloud and what their bodies reveal. • Spatial Dynamics & Confinement: The car interior and enclosed family rooms are used to heighten claustrophobia and tension, forcing physical proximity that neither Anam nor Shareff can easily escape. • Contrast in Pacing: Shifts smoothly between domestic family interactions (communal meals, airport farewells) and high-stakes psychological confrontation (the car scene). Critical Commentary & Keywords• Key Themes: Forced denial, proprietary jealousy, psychological intimidation, and isolation. • Commentary: The text masterfully builds romantic tension through denial. Anam's recurring mistakes (such as mistaking Shareff's car for Yaseer's) highlight how deeply her subconscious is occupied by him, even while her conscious mind fights against the attraction. Shareff's explosive reaction to perceived threats from other males showcases a classic toxic-protective dynamic prevalent in contemporary Hausa popular fiction (Soyayya).