ZAWARCI BOOK COMPELET HAUSA NOVELS BY MRS SADAUKI 

The room clock tracked exactly 3:00 AM. At this specific coordinates when human populations are locked in deep sleep to refresh their frames, Hajara’s database completely rejected sleep. Her optical sensors were malfunctioning, and her salivary glands were working in overdrive, driven strictly by a severe, insatiable craving to harvest the taste of human blood.
Her eyes initialized a terrifying demonic transformation before she pushed open the bedroom door, which luckily had not been locked from the interior. The chamber was entirely saturated with pitch-black darkness, yet this failed to obstruct Hajara's transformed optical radar from pinpointing Safeenat, who was fast asleep while supportively cradling her massive, fully matured pregnant abdomen.
A heavy drop of saliva dripped from Hajara’s mouth to the floor the exact microsecond her perimeter scanned the unborn infant resting inside its mother's pelvic cradle. She lifted her foot with the tactical intent to close the distance and strike. Suddenly, a blinding, unidentified anomalous light materialized out of nowhere, completely enveloping Safeenat’s frame like a protective shield. Driven by pure survival panic, Hajara executed a high-velocity retreat, her eyes bulging out of their sockets—glowing like raw, molten fire—before she aborted the sequence and fled the room entirely. This was not a surrender, but a temporary tactical retreat to engineer an alternative attack vector.
"Hajara, what operational error has driven your persona to stand frozen in the center of this living room?"
The voice of her husband, Dayyabu, suddenly struck her audio input. With extreme velocity, she shut her eyelids to prevent the exposure of her anomalous state and safeguard her secret. Weaponizing absolute silence against his inquiry, she pressed forward into her private quarters, slamming the door shut to lock the perimeter. Only then did she release a heavy breath and reopen her eyes. Bending down, she reached beneath her bed frame to pull out a specialized clay pot. The interior asset contained zero material elements, save for a dense concentration of thick black smoke. She chanted a command string in an ancient, non-human dialect; instantly, her human biology dissolved, transforming her framework into a wall-gecko.
In this cryptic state, she climbed the vertical walls, tracing a direct path back to Safeenat’s bedroom for a secondary breach. The protective light anomaly had not yet completely dissolved. Evaluating this obstacle, she redirected her vector to climb the dressing mirror. She extended her elongated tongue, systematically dripping her toxic saliva directly into the open container of body lotion that Safeenat had carelessly left uncovered. Completing the contamination protocol, she retraced her path along the masonry walls to exit. Outside, she spotted her husband opening her bedroom door, entering, and exiting in rapid succession—his behavioral patterns indicating confusion at her physical absence.
With maximum velocity, she slipped back into her room, overrode the transformation, and reassumed her human biological form. Sitting at the edge of the mattress, she processed that her thirst for blood was completely unquenched. This timeline had logged a total failure for her operations, forcing her to navigate the remaining hours with zero quality sleep.

The Household Dynamics

The following morning, Safeenat executed her bathing routine, applied her personal lotion and perfumes, and geared her frame in a long, flowing gown—her advanced pregnancy meant no alternative wardrobe assets could comfortably accommodate her size.
Embodying her baseline calm and submissive persona, she stepped out into the living room, where the family demographic had assembled around the dining table to consume breakfast.
"Daddy, good morning," she formalised her respects to her biological father.
He received her greeting with a warm, relaxed expression, inquiring: "Good morning, my dear Feenat. What is the current status of your physical health?"
"Alhamdulillah [All praise is due to Allah]!" she responded. Turning her gaze toward Hajara’s position, she added: "Good morning, Gwaggo."
Hajara warped her features into a harsh scowl, barking: "If my system had failed to survive the night, would your eyes be scanning my frame right now? This is pure, unadulterated hypocrisy! You intentionally delay your emergence until your personal servant has finalized the cooking operations, just so you can step out and harvest free labor. Let your database register that I did not factor your portion into this meal!"
Feenat lowered her head, feeling a profound, burning emotional pain surge from the depths of her heart. Her terminal disappointment was magnified by the data tracking that her father remained completely silent, offering zero verbal defense. Hajara’s biological children, Munir and Munira, immediately erupted into mocking laughter at her expense. Ignoring their provocation, Feenat bypassed their position to enter the kitchen to source her own sustenance. Collapsing flat onto the tiled floor, she began to consume her meal portion. Uninvited tears broke from her eyes as she gently clutched her massive abdomen, which was executing heavy fetal movements. She felt a profound wave of love for the unborn child; in her current reality, this infant represented the solitary asset capable of dampening the agonizing pain of losing her late husband, Bashir.

[TACTICAL FAMILY TREE / MATRIX]
   Mahaifi (Father): Dayyabu (Daddy)
   ├── Feenat (Safeenat)  --> [Widow of Bashir / Carrying Twins]
   └── Kishiya (Step-Mother): Hajara (Gwaggo)
        ├── Munir
        └── Munira

"Let us observe if this flatulence has the capacity to ignite a fire! Do you calculate that these pathetic tears possess the structural power to return your dead husband from the grave? Any union founded upon the absolute betrayal of family bloodlines is hardcoded for total failure! Your actions were the direct catalyst that halted Bashir's arranged marriage to Murjanatu. Now, he is rotting in a grave, leaving your frame stranded, while Murjanatu is living a high-status life of extreme luxury in Saudi Arabia, locked in a highly successful marriage!" Gwaggo Hajara spat venomously, confronting Feenat inside the kitchen layout.
Stamping her feet aggressively, she snarled: "Shift your frame and clear the path for my persona to pass, or I will deal with you ruthlessly, you evil girl who completely mirrors the vile character of her biological mother!"
Feenat rapidly retracted her legs, a fresh torrent of tears escaping her control. Driven by pure malice, Gwaggo Hajara sustained her high-decibel verbal assault: "Vacate this kitchen coordinate this instant! I am preparing to initialize the afternoon cooking sequence. Return to your private quarters and advance your hypocritical weeping there!"
From the threshold of the kitchen door, Daddy’s voice cut through the air: "Hajara, advance to my private bedroom immediately. I mandate a formal consultation."
Her eyes widened, threatening to pop out of their sockets from the sheer intensity of the glare she directed at Feenat. She bypassed her position and entered Daddy’s room, discovering him standing upright with his back turned to the door entrance.
"The father of my children, I have arrived," she articulated with simulated submission.
"Hajara, program your system to tread very lightly around my parameters! I intentionally observed your actions earlier without interference to signal to Feenat that she erred by leaving the domestic chores entirely to your station. However, my database will tolerate absolute zero public degradation of my daughter! This structure is my house; consequently, she possesses total sovereign freedom to operate as she pleases. What variable drives your continuous taunting and reminders of her tragedy? The loss of her husband is an event that demands profound empathy, and she is navigating an advanced stage of pregnancy! I am fully aware that your hatred for Feenat triggered the exact moment she secured her marriage to Bashir. Have you erased from your memory that a person's destined spouse is locked by divine decree? Allah never mandated from the inception of time that Murjanatu would occupy that marriage slot!"
Deploying master-level hypocrisy, Gwaggo Hajara initialized a simulated crying fit, sniffling loudly like an undisciplined child. Daddy’s defensive lines collapsed; he rapidly turned around, pulling her frame against his chest to offer comfort: "What is the catalyst for these tears? You occupy the structural role of a mother; it is entirely illogical that your station requires external advisories on proper behavioral protocols. A child belongs to the entire community; you possess zero data on who will ultimately emerge as your lifetime benefactor."
"But Daddy, your database holds the most accurate record of how my heart embraced Safeenat with pure sincerity. Yet, out of absolute nowhere, she systematically demolished our relationship, simply because she tracked that my ultimate life objective was to witness Murjanatu successfully married!"
"The past timeline is entirely irrelevant now. Has she not successfully executed a premium marriage elsewhere? Just yesterday, her husband established a voice link with my station, verifying his desire for her to return home to execute her delivery cycle."
The exact microsecond the data breached her ears that her biological daughter was returning, Hajara completely discarded her crying routine. Her face warped into a massive, gleeful smile as she cheered: "Oh! Alhamdullah! What is the exact arrival timestamp?"
Daddy smiled and countered: "Negative. Your daughter explicitly requested that we withhold the operational calendar from your perimeter. She intends to execute a total surprise arrival; simply ensure your station remains in a state of continuous operational readiness."
Leaving that instruction behind, Daddy exited the residential structure, routing his vector directly to his corporate company office.

The Unnatural Complications

Gwaggo Hajara returned to the kitchen perimeter, discovering Feenat handling the afternoon cooking operations, her physical frame drenched in sweat due to the intense thermal emission of the gas cooker. Hajara sneered contemptuously before exiting the space. Safeenat, a gentle soul who harbored an absolute hatred for domestic conflict, had willfully assumed the cooking burden solely to preserve household peace.
However, before finalizing the meal, an anomalous, severe itch triggered across her entire skin profile. She began to scratch her flesh aggressively. Tracking the rapid escalation of the irritation, she deactivated the gas supply and exited the kitchen. Entering her private quarters, she bypassed her bed and went straight into the bathroom to execute a full wash. This action yielded zero relief; her skin began to warp into an intense, angry red complexion.
Summoning extreme willpower, she returned to the kitchen to finalize the cooking loop, transferring the meals into thermal food flasks and arranging them neatly on the dining table. Retreating to her bedroom, she used her phone to capture a high-resolution image of her arm, where the dense red inflammation was most concentrated. She transferred the image file to her close friend, Sakeenatu, requesting a diagnostic evaluation due to her professional status as a medical doctor. Within a minimal timeline, Sakeenatu initiated a voice call.
Following standard greetings, the doctor advised: "Your station must physically advance to the hospital clinic for a direct diagnostic evaluation. A smartphone image is structurally insufficient to decode this pathology. Furthermore, this falls outside my specialized jurisdiction; I will have to patch your file through to a specialist dermatologist."
Feenat released a heavy sigh and countered: "Keenat, your database is aware that Daddy will never authorize my exit from this perimeter. Furthermore, custom dictates that a widow navigating her formal mourning period (Takaba) must not execute external transit."
Saturated with empathy, Keenat responded: "My system is aware of the cultural constraints, but physical health overrules all external protocols. It is highly probable that your system ingested an allergen that triggered this systemic reaction."
"My system has ingested zero foreign substances. How is the hospital shift? I calculate you are facing a massive workload, correct?"
"By Allah, the workload is intense. In sha Allah, once my shift concludes, I will route my vector directly to your house to execute a personal check." They sustained their dialogue loop for an extended period before terminating the call protocol.
Remaining anchored to her seating space, Feenat began scanning historical photographs of Bashir dressed in his official military camouflage uniform. She became entirely lost in the visuals until Munira breached the room layout to summon her to the living room. Dragging her heavy frame forward with immense difficulty, she exited the room.
In the living room, she encountered Gwaggo Hajara. The moment she entered the layout, she noticed Hajara’s optical sensors were locked dead center onto her pregnant abdomen. Safeenat lowered her gaze, continuously chanting 'Hasbunallahu wa ni'mal wakil' [Sufficient for us is Allah, and He is the best Disposer of affairs] within her internal consciousness.
Suddenly, her abdomen initialized a violent, unnatural internal contraction, as though the fetus was preparing to tear straight out through her navel. The sheer, excruciating pain of the internal rotation forced her to grab her lower pelvic region, releasing a low groan of agonizing distress. Closing her eyes, she endured the raw torment ripping through every biological sector of her body.
Gwaggo Hajara unleashed a sinister, plotting smile, asking: "Safeenat, is your system experiencing a technical malfunction?"
Only then did Safeenat force her eyelids open, revealing eyes that had transformed into a deep, bloody red crimson. Her vocal cords were completely paralyzed, rendering her entirely incapable of producing verbal text. Her spine and pelvic frame locked simultaneously, forcing her body into an involuntary, deep forward bend. Despite this tracking as her maiden pregnancy, her instinct instantly decoded the data: active labor had officially commenced.

The Delivery

Gwaggo Hajara commanded: "Active delivery is indeed confirmed. Munira, evacuate this perimeter immediately while my station secures the plastic delivery sheets."
"Mother, let my system summon a commercial taxi asset so we can transport her frame directly to the medical hospital!" Munira urged, her eyes locked onto Safeenat, who had begun releasing deep, guttural animalistic groans mixed with heavy labor breathing.
"What taxi asset are you babbling about?! Evacuate this room this microsecond, as commanded!" Gwaggo Hajara barked, entering Safeenat’s bedroom to retrieve the storage container housing the pre-assembled delivery and infant supplies.

[DELIVERY ROOM PROTOCOL]
   1. Plastic sheeting deployed on floor.
   2. Traditional wrappers arranged.
   3. Forceful removal of Feenat's protective garments.

Hajara personally deployed the plastic sheeting across the floor, layering traditional wrappers on top before directing: "Safeenat, strip that long gown off your frame immediately! A delivering woman has zero business harboring concerns regarding clothing protection!"
The sheer, overwhelming density of the physical torture she was navigating overrode Safeenat's defensive instincts, preventing her from stopping Gwaggo from aggressively stripping the garments from her body.
Gwaggo Hajara’s mouth initialized a heavy flow of thick, uncontrollable saliva, dripping down the moment the infant's crown breached the birth canal. Her physical frame began to tremble with dark excitement as she stepped in to assist the extraction protocol. With zero delay or hesitation, she began to roll her eyes backward, initializing a high-level supernatural assault targeted directly at capturing the newborn infant's soul (Kurwa). However, before her dark parameters could secure absolute dominance, Safeenat executed a massive labor push, synchronized perfectly with the sharp, loud cry of an emerging female baby. This sudden sensory input snapped Hajara back into full operational consciousness.
Gwaggo Hajara's chest cavity compressed violently, her heart dropping into a state of sheer terror and shock. The female infant that had just dropped possessed a completely severed umbilical cord, and shockingly, she was entirely missing a placenta—a direct contrast to the male twin fetus, which her sensors tracked still hanging in a state of suspension within the birth canal.
Only at this specific junction did Hajara secure a brief window to surgically cut and tie the womb structures. Overridden by an inexplicable psychological shift that completely scrambled her initial murderous intent, she began executing standard post-delivery cleanup protocols for Safeenat, whose consciousness was steadily stabilizing.
Gwaggo Hajara washed the contaminated linens, fully sanitized the room layout, and ignited premium traditional incense. She personally selected a fresh gown and wrapper for Safeenat's frame, even going as far as assembling a hot cup of tea for her to ingest.
Finishing the tasks, she retreated to a corner quadrant of the room, her internal consciousness locked in deep, chaotic self-analysis: “What dark anomaly has hijacked my cognitive database? What force has neutralized my identity as Hajara? It feels as though I am no longer the operator of my own frame.”
The piercing cries of the newborn twins abruptly terminated her internal dialogue loop. She directed: "Lactate the infants immediately; place them against their food supply." She stepped forward, actively demonstrating the proper nursing posture.
The male twin immediately locked onto the source, consuming the milk greedily. The female twin, however, flatly refused to nurse, executing zero actions save for releasing continuous, unyielding cries. The exact microsecond Gwaggo Hajara lifted the female infant into her arms, the child ceased crying instantly, locking into absolute silence.
Hajara swallowed hard, her throat constricting in pure terror. Looking deep into the newborn's pupils—an infant whose existence on Earth had not yet clocked a mere thirty minutes—she tracked a pitch-black, ancient, and highly conscious gaze staring straight back into her soul...

ZAWARCI (The State of Widowhood)

A Love and Horror Story

Story and Text Written by: Chamsiya Laouali Rabo (MRS SADAUKI 💫✍️)
Contact Number: +22795045822
FIRST CLASS WRITERS ASSOCIATION Dedicated to: Rahama Sabo Usman
Page 3
Slowly, Gwaggo Hajara began to feel an icy, supernatural chill penetrate the very marrow of her bones and saturate her muscle tissue. It felt exactly like an absolute external compulsion; her cognitive motor controls failed completely as she found herself entirely unable to break eye contact with the newborn female infant.
Her eyelids locked wide open as a violent, suffocating pressure seized her throat. Yielding to the force, her jaws were forced wide open. The hijacked soul of the male infant—the exact asset her dark sorcery had successfully dominated earlier—was aggressively extracted from deep within her intestines, traveling up her esophagus and exiting through her open mouth.
A stream of dense, glowing green smoke emerged from Gwaggo Hajara’s mouth, channeling directly into the respiratory system of the infant child. The newborn instantly executed a violent sequence of sneezing fits before unleashing a loud, piercing cry.
Driven by intense panic, Hajara stumbled backward, collapsing heavily onto a nearby chair, her radar locked onto the female baby, who had already transitioned into a peaceful sleep state.
"Gwaggo, he completely refuses to cease crying! Could his system be navigating a severe abdominal colic?" Safeenat articulated in a panicked tone, continuously rocking the male child in her arms.
Gwaggo Hajara’s internal psyche exploded into pure, unadulterated fury. Her standard cognitive database having fully returned, she snapped venomously: "What business does my station hold with managing his issues?! Throughout the historical timeline when I executed my own child deliveries, what external asset assisted my station in child-rearing? Manage your properties independently!"
Leaving that venomous text behind, she aggressively dropped the female baby onto the mattress adjacent to Safeenat. Safeenat’s emotional baseline deflated completely; using extreme effort, she managed to soothe the male infant until sleep claimed his system. She laid him down carefully adjacent to the newborn baby girl before transitioning to her private bedroom to retrieve her mobile phone.
The exact microsecond she returned to the layout, her visual trackers locked onto a horrifying anomaly: a massive snake was coiled directly on top of the female infant, its scaled body completely wrapped around the baby's tiny frame.
Before her conscious mind could process the data, a loud, piercing shriek escaped Safeenat's throat. The exact timestamp of her scream synchronized perfectly with the complete, instantaneous disappearance of the serpent anomaly.
Hysterical with fear, Safeenat lunged forward, scooped both infants into her arms, and permanently evacuated the room, relocating them to the safety of her primary bedroom. A significant timeline passed before her psychological parameters stabilized enough for her to coordinate outbound telecommunications, alerting external contacts regarding the successful delivery.
She routed a direct call to Daddy, updating his database with the event. Within a minimal delay window, his biological younger sister, Habiba, breached the residential gate. Safeenat harvested immense joy from her arrival, particularly when tracking that Habiba had arrived with a fully packed travel bag—confirming her intent to maintain an extended deployment at the house.

The Supernatural Confrontation

Habiba initialized a large pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a high thermal boil before returning to the room.
"Safeenat, it is an absolute tactical necessity that your station exercises extreme vigilance over these children, most notably the male infant. My audit confirms he possesses a highly compromised, weak spiritual defense framework," Habiba advised, gently running her hand over the twins.
"In sha Allah [By Allah's will], Gwaggo Habiba, I will execute strict monitoring protocols. His baseline data tracks a massive frequency of crying; it required extreme effort to lock his system into this current sleep cycle," Feenat responded.
"Humph! That is not standard rest; that is the deep sleep of pure physical exhaustion and suffering. It is a structural necessity that his body succumbs. May Allah safeguard the timeline," Habiba remarked cryptically.
"Amen!" Feenat answered, her database lacking the necessary context to decode the true underlying variables behind Gwaggo Habiba's specialized statements.
Once the water reached maximum boiling point, Habiba transferred the asset to execute a specialized postpartum bath for the infants. The exact microsecond the male twin touched the water, his system woke up, unleashing an intense scream. Conversely, the "senior royal asset"—the female twin—remained locked in an absolute state of deep sleep throughout the entire bathing protocol, mimicking an entity devoid of biological life. Gwaggo Habiba simply maintained a smooth, continuous smile, a profound wave of dark joy saturating the lower depths of her soul. She had never historically been blessed with biological offspring of her own.
Safeenat subsequently completed her own postpartum hot water bath, treating her frame thoroughly before exiting the washroom wrapped securely in a towel. Only at this specific coordinate did Habiba’s visual sensors decode the intense, unnatural redness stretching across Safeenat's skin profile.
With explosive speed, Habiba bolted upright, aggressively grabbing Safeenat’s hand just as it prepared to unscrew the container of body lotion.
"Halt! Maintain your posture until my system executes a thorough inspection of this asset," she commanded, inspecting the contaminated lotion bottle.
Without issuing a single explanatory statement to Safeenat, Habiba exited the room layout. She bypassed all spatial barriers to penetrate Gwaggo Hajara’s private bedroom, failing to even issue a standard courtesy greeting protocol. She marched straight to the foot of Hajara's bed, confronting her position with absolute venom.

[THE CONFRONTATION: HABIBA VS. HAJARA]
   Habiba:  "Greetings to the supreme mother of absolute malice..."
   Hajara:  [Sits up rapidly, body aching from the soul-extraction rebound]
   Habiba:  "Your dark operational data is exposed. The twins are beyond your paygrade."

"Greetings to the supreme queen of malice in this world! It turns out your pitch-black heart remains perfectly intact—zero structural change. Well, your dark operational data has been completely exposed by my station! I have verified the catastrophic payload you systematically injected into Safeenatu's body lotion! Rest assured of this single fact: your sorcery will only consume your own biology, because those Twins completely exceed your tactical paygrade!"
Gwaggo Hajara bolted into a upright sitting posture with extreme velocity. Ever since she had retreated to her bedroom, her entire physical framework had been navigating a severe, painful biological rebound—the direct consequence of the soul-extraction process she had endured earlier. Now, her husband's younger sister was directly spraying her perimeter with high-decibel disrespect.
Hajara warped her face into a deeply plotting, sinister smile before countering: "It appears your database has completely slipped regarding the true identity of the entity standing before your frame, correct, Habiba? Do not worry; your system will interface with the consequences imminently."
"My station will interface with absolute zero variables, save for pure success and prosperity..."
"Fascinating. It seems your neck has matured sufficiently to invite a swift decapitation," Gwaggo Hajara spat, her eyes rolling backward in her socket.
Habiba erupted into a booming, mocking burst of laughter, mocking: "Oh? Do your parameters calculate that your fragmented, low-tier sorcery possesses the structural capacity to register a hit against my defenses? I advise your station to modify its tactical calculations immediately before your timeline expires, for in this exact timestamp, my power matches yours variable for variable!"
Realizing with absolute certainty that the entity standing in front of her frame was categorically not the historical Habiba she used to dominate, Gwaggo Hajara aborted her incantations.
Fixing her with a gaze saturated with absolute malice, she demanded: "What operational variable brought your persona into my private quarters?"
"My solitary mandate is this: completely disengage your operations from Safeenat and her twins. If your station fails to comply with this directive..." Habiba abruptly killed her text stream, aggressively grinding her teeth while executing a slow, ominous nod of her head.
"You intend to expose my secrets to the public? Do your cognitive systems calculate that a single soul in this community would validate your data? Hahaha! Pure delusion! Habiba, lock this data into your permanent memory: even your own biological mother's life cycle is held securely within the palm of my hand..."
Habiba instantly overrode her text, cutting her off cleanly: "Except for the supreme master whom you continuously brag about—the entity whose dark sorcery failed to register a single hit against his defense lines. I possess verified data that your station is fully aware of this operational failure."
The interior consciousness of Gwaggo Hajara turned completely pitch black with unadulterated rage. Within this entire terrestrial subcontinent, Habiba was the solitary thorn that continuously triggered a painful disease in her eyes. No matter how flawlessly she engineered her dark operations, the exact microsecond Habiba breached the location, she would systematically compromise her lines.
A sudden, aggressive pounding sound echoing from the primary residential gate abruptly snapped her out of her dark internal calculations. She locked her radar onto Habiba’s retreating form, trailing her with a gaze saturated with lethal hatred. She felt a profound bitterness that her station did not currently command the dark arts of the **MAITAR IDO (The Psychic Evil-Eye)*—(Note: For any user desiring to track the complete, unabridged novel file of this asset, they can establish a direct telecommunications link with the author using the exact technical phone matrix logged above)*—for if she possessed that specific psychic asset, she would have instantly injected a terminal pathogen straight into Habiba's bloodstream, sealing her absolute liquidation on the spot.

Narrative Structural Tracking Models

The Internal Contamination & Counter-Defense Matrix

This technical model tracks the biological and supernatural status of the characters following the delivery of the twins:

[HAJARA'S ATTACK VECTOR] ───────► [THE BOTCHED EXTRACTION] ───────► [HABIBA'S COUNTER-GRID]
Lotion targeted with toxic        Female twin forces Hajara        Habiba intercepts lotion.
saliva anomaly to destroy         to regurgitate the stolen        Deploys defensive shields.
Safeenat's skin/blood lines.       soul of the male twin.           Exposes Hajara's network.

Single Relevance Follow-Up Question

As the heavy, aggressive pounding on the primary residential gate echoes through the compound, cutting short the supernatural standoff between Hajara and Habiba, should we advance the text to identify the new entity breaching the house, or do we return to Safeenat as she attempts to shield her newborns from the invisible forces shifting inside her bedroom?