Iman Hausa Novel By Khaleesat Haiydar Novels & Stories

Her father is hardly ever home, working long hours in the city while her mother spends most of her time grading papers from all of her high school students. She opens the door quietly, but there is no need. Her mother is still awake. She's curled up in the living room reading her latest adventure novel wrapped on the comfy (and dare she call ugly) recliner her father just had to have. Her curly auburn hair is up in a bun with a few stray strands spiraling free as her eyes intently scan the new Kindle she received for her birthday only a few weeks ago. It's safe to say she has become a little obsessed with it. Can't say Sera can blame her. She herself escapes to a different world every time s

Even with my husband's hands around her throat,I saw the bruises when the guards weren't looking, saw the purple fingerprints blooming like poison flowers on her skin. She was laughing at him. And he didn't kill her. I stop at the bottom of the stairs. The door is ahead, old iron, rusted hinges, a sliver of torchlight bleeding through the gap. I can hear them still. Muffled now. Their voices tangled together like bodies in a bed I've never been invited to share. "June is my mate. The moon goddess chose her for me." Kai's voice. Defensive. Too loud. And then Lia's laugh, that same laugh I've known since childhood, the one she used to give me when we were girls stealing honeycakes from the pac

Isioma Ejiofor wrote in her daily journal: material things cannot get you every girl, Some girls know their worth. You might bring the fanciest cars, you might take me to the highest mountains. But it might never be enough Miss Tony Hair Salon was one of the best places in Houston, Texas. Isioma had read about it on one

By the time Isioma completed her story, Idara was highly mesmerized. “My God!” Idara rubbed her hands over her face, processing Isioma's story, bit by bit. “I'm lost for words, Isioma.” “Been there.” Isioma shrugged a shoulder. “I can relate, big time. Some human beings sha. Chai!” Idara shook her head in wonder. “This is very pathetic.”

David chuckled and went out of the room. Wunmi sat in her hotel room, reading one of the novels she got from a book store nearby. She took her phone and replied some messages on her chats and dropped the phone. She was still reading when she heard a noise from a part of the hotel, like a man was shouting at someone to open a door. She shrugged and faced her book. Not long, She heard a bang at the window. A little afraid, she stood up and carried a flower vase and stood beside the window. The window opened and a man jumped inside the room putting on only boxers.

Haseena shouted and guards came running at her. "Don't let me inside this mansion again now throw him out" Haseena ordered. Hussain cursed her. "You can not stop me from having her. She is mine, only mine." Hussain kept shouting while guards thrown him out of the mansion and Haseena walked off. Khalid sprinkled some water on Zoya. She opened her eyes and looked at herself. She clenched her fists on the sheet. She started sobbing. "Don't worry, he is gone."Khalid gave her water to drink.

SHE IS AN OLD HAG—Yeye Omo, Iya Agba called her. She was so old, withered, and bent that Kudaisi feared she would drop dead anytime soon. The faded brown and red flower patterned blouse and wrapper she wore did nothing to hide her skeleton frame. She tottered on a worn-out wooden cane held tight in her right hand, leading Kudaisi and Iya Agba into her decrepit mud hut with lots of wide yawning cracks in its walls. A lantern hung on the left side of the door casting an iridescent glow about, with its wick fluttering under the soft night breeze.

He instructed the class. How many times has someone mentioned the word 'different' since I got here? At the fundraising event, I heard that word about ten times from the people my aunt introduced me to. How am I different? I wanted to tell out. He walked over to the table in front of the class and passed me a book. I realized it was a novel; Purple hibiscus by Chimamanda Adichie. "That's the book we're currently studying, you can take it with you to your seat. Also, you can take the seat beside Webster" He dismissed me and I was bothered about how I'm supposed to know who Webster was.

I take one more look at the rose before I sigh and put my books over it. ~~ HAIDAR ABDULKAREEM KASSEM’S POV I stared blankly at my mother as her lips moved continuously; I heard nothing of what she said. I raised my glass of wine to my lips and took a small sip, it was my second glass and I was hoping it would somehow numb away the stress.