HALIN RAYUWA book 4 Completed Hausa Novel Document Written By Hafsat Sodangi

Halin Rayuwa is a well-written and engaging novel that offers a fascinating glimpse into traditional Hausa culture and the challenges that women face in such societies. The author’s portrayal of family relationships, cultural values, and the struggle for freedom is nuanced and insightful, making this a highly recommended read for anyone interested in African literature or the complexities of traditional societies.


In the dark of night, I ran and screamed, passing through valleys and corners without a clear destination. Despite the fear and darkness, I felt an urgent need to run as if my life depended on it, even though I wasn’t in danger. Finally, I arrived at Khadija’s house after navigating the distance between our neighborhoods. As I touched their door, a sharp pain coursed through my hand. Abraham’s voice came from inside, asking who it was. I answered in a serious tone, feeling drained from the exertion of my run. Although he didn’t open the door immediately, we talked for a while, and the conversation became a poignant reminder of the challenges we faced.

I entered Dija’s brother’s room and found her praying with tears streaming down her face. I stayed with her until she finished and touched Ibrahim’s photo after reciting Fatiha. The calamity that befell us seemed insurmountable, and I never expected it to pass. I was overwhelmed by the weight of the trial that we were enduring, having lost our mother. Dija shared how we had first met, and her recollection caused her to break down in tears. As we sat in the car, Yaya Ibrahim entered, and Dija’s story caused him to question her. Eventually, we all went to bed, and I told Dija what had happened to me that night.

Zumbur sat up and asked me what I had said to him as a gift for my virginity, but the question only added to my turmoil. The thought of Mubarak caused me to feel pain, and I couldn’t understand why Dija was so devoted to him, especially after he had caused her so much suffering. The pain was so intense that I made a severe threat to him, which led to the events that followed.

The next morning, Ibrahim arrived, ready to take us to Alhaji Nalami’s house for the legalization of my marriage. I was so unhappy that my face fell, and Dija was still angry with me. Even though she had drunk three abodas, her anger persisted. Although I regretted my actions, I believed that Mubarak would have accepted the gift I gave him, no matter how things turned out. As Ibrahim left, I wondered why he hadn’t attended the wedding and why he seemed to be avoiding us.

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