Littafin Hausa Novel Complete Novels & Stories

Her mother sighed, wondered how to start this story that left distaste in one's mouth. "Do you know B.B Bakura?" Their faces changed at the supposedly unrelated question the old lady asked. "Have you no eyes?" She asked harshly in Hausa making the recipients of her words flinch. They had eyes, they just had never put that kind of two and two together. "Can you not see that nose Labeebah is carrying around is a replica of that Kanuri boy B.B Bakura?" Labeebah's aunt blinked over and over like a doll, wondering how her sister ever even entangled herself with the current Vice President.

Tife Okuwobi, ID number; 40515176, email; lamefacebook72@g***l. com. GoodNovel company. Dear GoodNovel Application Company, Request to remove my novel from your application. My name is Tife Okuwobi with the ID number; 40515176. I have a novel entitled "One Thousand Years" on your application. I wrote a letter to you some few weeks back about terminating the contract I signed with GoodNovel company and I was sent a reply for the agreement.

the innkeeper said in a strange accent. “Ham and eggs,” the merchant answered. “Will be over in a minute. Are you planning by any chance to stay for the night?” “It depends on the weather.” “If you decide to stay, we have a room available.” “I’ll remember.” Iltiras stood up and walked into the night. The moon shinned bright. III

And after all, what's a lie? Tis but the truth in masquerade." -Unknown ... "No ma, no be how much I de sell am," (no ma, that's not how much I can sell it) the dark tall and slim Hausa trader spoke to Doris and Martha in pidgin with thick Hausa accent dripping as he spoke. "Ok, give us for one thousand five hundred naira..." (Give it to us at the price of one thousand five hundred naira) Martha tried bargaining with him.

As a corpers posted to the far north, far away from my Ekiti state, it was not easy at all. I could not speak Hausa, the few words I learned in the camp, I use to buy things in the market. Words like: Ina kwana- Good morning. Na wan? - How much? It was quite difficult living in a new environment. The people though friendly find it difficult to communicate with me. They will say: Ba a Hausa meaning Cannot speak Hausa. Sometimes they will ask you: Akwai Hausa? meaning Can you speak Hausa? I will always reply Ba bu meaning No or Kadan Kadan meaning A little.

hushed out " Good day ma, welcome" Kaima great "hmm... thank you" glare at her joined Alisha. in the living room Fatima walks, her eyes so dime and scary, burning with anger" Alisha! Alisha!!, where is this girl" she yell furiously, Alisha rush in trembling in fear " what, where you doing there?" she roars in Hausa language " Mommy, we were just chatting" she whispered in Hausa language, Fatima eye mounted fear in her, she taught she would hit her

He laughed, "I am. My great grandfather is from Gombe, he moved to Lagos and he married a Yoruba woman as second wife, she gave birth to my grandfather who also married a Yoruba woman. My mom is Yoruba too so you can say I'm half Hausa and half Yoruba." "Can you speak Hausa?" He smiled guiltily, "not really." "Then you're fully a Yoruba man." "I have Hausa blood." He argued. "It's been diluted." "Okay, you win." He said laughing. "You're Hausa right? It's actually obvious." "How? Because I'm too young to be married and the Hausas are known for early marriage." She remembered their first meeting. "Okay I might have been rude to you with that statement and..."

After the church service on Sunday afternoon. The Olayiwolas were back to their house. Ben and Ademide were busy in the kitchen - about to prepare a meal of fried rice and chicken, they were back to how they used to be - all grudges buried, lost love found. Ademide laughed as Ben told her about the Hausa people and how it was difficult for them to pronounce some words. - words like People, the, and how they used the letter 'F' in place of 'P'.

Theresa was old enough to have experience, but looked young enough to please Salem’s eyes—two key requirements for a housekeeper in his home. “Where is Salem now?” I asked. A good feeding would soothe my nerves. “He’s not at home, my lady. I couldn’t tell you.” Grumbling, I headed to Salem’s library. Perhaps he had a book I could entertain myself with. Once there, I found a book lying open on a desk. It was titled Mythic Bloodlines: Lost & Fabled Lilitu. Curious, I studied an illustration on the open page. It depicted a trio of strange-looking women, just like the ones Salem had been painting all this time. The accompanying text stated:

"Don't waste your time James. I am not here to die. I only followed you here because you are unfamiliar with Igboland. I didn't come here to put my life at risk. As you can see, I have a beautiful wife and and three young children who are still growing up. I already lost a wife, it will be bad if my children find out that their father died trying to destroy the gods that their ancestors worshipped. It will be too bad James. Count me out of your plans. Stick with Umuise. They don't have a chief priest who would challenge you. They are simple faithful worshippers of their gods. Every man and his own shrine." James grabbed the book he was reading and flipped the pages quickly. Then he turned to