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DOLE KI SONI BOOK COMPELET
BY MAMAN SHAKUR
He gently caressed her body, wearing a peculiar smile, and suddenly said, "Honestly, baby..."
It was Salma who stood up, walked to the front of the classroom, and snatched the book from the hands of a young girl who was reading it aloud to the class.
Everyone stared at her, seeing how she was seething with rage, but no one could say a word—except for a young girl around her age, who happened to be the author of the story.
"Hey, Salma, what on earth is this madness? What is wrong with you?" she asked furiously.
The one addressed as Salma looked at the speaker without a trace of friendliness and said, "For God's sake, Hadiza, what kind of book is this? I swear to God, enough is enough. This is nothing but obscenity and immorality, and right inside an Islamic school! I swear I am going to report this to Malam Auwal."
With a spiteful look, Hadiza stood up, blocked Salma’s path, and snatched the book back, saying, "Nonsense! I’ve known for a long time that you are just jealous of me because nobody reads your own books."
Salma gave a humorless smile and simply said, "Pity." She then walked back to her seat and sat next to her close friend, Zainab.
"Useless, worthless behavior. Envy has completely consumed her," Hadiza muttered as she looked for a place to sit.
Zainab looked at Salma and said, "Salma, this is exactly why your father forbids you from writing. It's because of these explicit writers who are everywhere, ruining your reputation. He thinks what you do is just like what they do."
Salma sighed deeply and replied, "I swear that’s true, Zainab. I have big dreams in the literary world, but my father is my biggest obstacle."
As she finished speaking, the bell rang, signaling the end of closing hours. Everyone stood up, grabbing their bags, some holding them while others slung them over their shoulders.
"Zainab, please hurry so you can give me that Hadith book. You know Malam Naziru—if I don't submit this assignment, he won't let it slide," Salma said as they walked through the school gates.
"That's true, I swear, he is very strict. Let's hurry before the Maghrib prayer is called."
They began to walk briskly, just as Zainab suggested.
"I pray for the day you finally get a smartphone, Salma, if only so you can go online and see the kind of immoral books Hadiza writes. I swear, I can't even bring myself to read them."
Salma responded, "Hmm! Just wait, Brother Umar wants to buy me a phone very soon." She stumbled over a stone as she spoke, almost falling.
Zainab laughed and said, "Well, even if it's just out of his love for you, he should buy it."
Salma pouted and retorted, "What love? We live in the same house!" She finished with a playful glare.
Meanwhile, Hadiza left the Islamic school in a foul mood, walking home with her friend, Ruma.
"I swear, Ruma, I hate Salma. I really don't like her. She is the ultimate hypocrite, and I can't stand her."
Ruma smiled and replied, "True, but stop worrying about her. Let’s just keep writing our books and enjoying life. If it weren't for our writing, we wouldn't even know half the things we know, since they don't explicitly explain things to us at the Islamic school; they just bore us with lessons on ritual baths and purification."
"Besides, why should you worry, Hadiza? Your pen name is 'Hadiza RM,' and hers is 'Salma Aminu.' Even your name sounds better, let alone your books."
Only then did Hadiza manage a smile.
Salma had still not reached home because she was standing outside Zainab’s house, waiting for her to bring out the Hadith book.
At that moment, a fair-skinned, trendy young guy who looked like he came from a wealthy background stopped in front of Salma and said, "Hey there, beauty of the town, it’s been a while."
A wave of frustration washed over Salma's heart. She looked at him and said, "I'm fine. But for God's sake, can't you hear the call to prayer? Go where you are supposed to be."
The fair-skinned youth, whose name was Kalifa, replied, "Come on, Salma, I hardly ever get the chance to see you, and you know how much I love you."
Just then, Zainab came out holding the book and handed it to Salma. Salma thanked her, and Zainab said, "Goodnight." Zainab then went back inside without uttering a word to the guy.
Salma also turned around and headed home.
Salma’s father and his older brother, Yusuf, had just returned from the mosque.
The older brother asked Yaya Umar, who had also just walked in, "Has Salma still not returned yet?"
Umar answered, "Yes, Father, but I know she is on her way."
Salma called out her greetings as she entered the house. Making eye contact with her paternal uncle, her heart skipped a beat...
When Hadiza arrived at the entrance of her house, she spotted a large vehicle loaded with belongings. Startled, she rushed inside and questioned her mother, who was conversing with the driver.
"Mama, what is happening? Where are we going?"
"Just get in the car, Hadiza. There is no time. Tonight we sleep in Sokoto. We are leaving Kano because we have no one left here."
"Mama, what kind of sudden relocation is this, for God's sake? It feels like we are being banished! I am ruined."
Her mother simply climbed into the front seat, and the driver got in too. Realizing she had no choice, Hadiza reluctantly boarded the vehicle, sitting next to her mother in deep sorrow. The driver then drove the loaded vehicle away.
Ever since Salma stepped inside, she had been kneeling before her elders, weeping bitterly due to the harsh words Alhaji Yusuf was throwing at her.
Malam Aminu had no close relative other than his older brother, Alhaji Yusuf. They lived in perfect harmony, though Alhaji Yusuf was much wealthier, even achieving the title of Alhaji. Because of the immense respect Malam Aminu had for him, he obeyed everything his older brother said. This was why Umar had come to live with Malam Aminu until he finished his studies; because he enjoyed the household and loved Salma, he had never moved back to his own home.
Salma was crying heavily. Her mother felt helpless but deeply resented Alhaji Yusuf’s behavior.
"Well, it's not entirely your fault," Alhaji Yusuf said, turning to Malam Aminu angrily. "I have been telling you for the longest time to hand this girl over to live in my house alongside her peers, Karima and Husna, but you refused."
Furious, Alhaji Yusuf continued, "Well, by God's grace, this ends today. Pack your things tomorrow, and Umar will bring you over."
Salma burst into tears again, looking at her mother.
Her father, Malam Aminu, chimed in, "Why are you crying? You know we don't approve of this writing of yours—full of lies, fiction, and immorality—yet you refuse to listen."
Umar, deeply uncomfortable, looked at his uncle and said, "Father, I swear, what Salma is doing isn't sinful or..."
Before he could finish, his father cut him off. "Umar, how old are you to think you know the world? We have seen yesterday and we see today. All the immorality displayed in various movies, who writes them if not writers? It is unacceptable for a young girl to bring shame and insults upon our family."
"Is there any form of obscenity they don't write about, ruining morals?" He turned back to Malam Aminu. "There are even married women among these writers! It's pure insolence. Writing is officially banned in this family, Salma."
He stood up, glared at Salma again, and said, "Tomorrow, without fail. Where are the rest of you?" He folded his traditional robe and stormed out.
Salma's mother called out, "Safe journey. May God make this decision a blessing."
Salma choked on fresh tears. After Alhaji Yusuf left, she went into her room to continue crying. No matter how much Umar tried to comfort her, she refused, knowing that moving to Alhaji Yusuf’s house meant her dream of becoming a writer would remain nothing but a fantasy.
She cried and lamented until the Isha prayer call. Unable to eat, she locked herself in her room. Her mother was deeply distressed but felt powerless, preferring to keep Salma close regardless of the hardships.
Meanwhile, inside Alhaji Yusuf’s house, Karima was sitting down, sweating profusely while holding a phone. Husna ran in suddenly, shouting, "I swear, Aunty Karima, father is back!"
Startled, Karima hid the phone under a pile of clothes, laughing. "Oh my god, Husna! I swear this book is so emotional. Writers are really trying. No matter how strict father is today, I must finish reading it!" They burst into laughter again before heading out together to welcome their father home.
Driven to near madness, Salma made a reckless decision to run away from home. She packed her clothes into a small bag and waited. Her mother had gone to bed, and Umar was resting too, though they weren't asleep yet. The main house gate hadn't been locked because Malam Aminu hadn't returned.
She quietly picked up her bag and slipped out of the room. Catching a glimpse of her sleeping mother, she felt like crying again. She quickly bypassed Umar's door and stepped outside into the night, weeping. Her conscience warned her that she was making a grave mistake and that this was not the right path to achieving her dreams, but an inner impulse pushed her forward. She walked toward the motor park, crying all the way.
Shortly after, Malam Aminu returned and immediately locked the main gate.
As she walked through the station, crying and looking around nervously, a voice called out, "Salma, where are you going at this hour? Is everything alright?"
Terrified, she spun around to see who it was. It was Kalifa, the suitor from earlier. "Where are you going? You never come out at night."
Salma wiped her tears and said, "Kalifa, please lend me five thousand naira. I swear I will pay you back."
Kalifa laughed and said, "Come on, sweetheart, you are worth much more than a loan from me. You are beautiful and smart." He paused. "I will give you ten thousand naira instead, Salma—but only if you want it."
"Of course I want it!" she cried.
"Then stop crying. Come to my room for just five minutes, and I’ll give you the ten thousand naira there."
Salma felt her heart freeze at Kalifa's proposition. The rumors were true: he really was a predator who ruined young girls.
Without a word, she turned to leave. He grabbed her hijab and said, "Come on, Salma, don't throw away this opportunity."
Overwhelmed by anger and disgust, she turned around and slapped him hard across the face. Unleashing an unexpected torrent of curses, she yelled, "I swear I will scream right here, you useless, ignorant, crazy, foolish beast!"
She grabbed her bag and stormed off. Reaching the vehicle platforms, she realized she had no destination. She stood there crying, her heart begging her to go back home.
"Sister, where are you heading?" a young girl about her age asked, standing next to a young man.
Salma remained quiet before fearfully replying, "I'm traveling."
"Stop crying. No matter the hardship, relief will follow. Have patience," the girl comfortingly said. "Come, join us. This vehicle is about to leave for Zaria."
Salma blindly followed them into the vehicle, giving no thought to the fact that she knew absolutely no one in Zaria. As the vehicle filled up and began its journey, Salma continued to sob heavily.
Seeing this, the young girl looked at the handsome young man next to her, who looked remarkably like her. He simply smiled back. The girl placed a comforting hand on Salma and said, "Sister."
Salma looked up through her tears.
"Please, take heart."
Salma managed a small smile, wiped her tears, and said, "Thank you. What is your name?"
The girl smiled and replied, "My name is Salma, and that is my brother over there, Yaya Umar."
Salma burst into a startled laugh. "How strange! My name is also Salma, and I also have a brother named Yaya Umar." She looked at the young man as she spoke.
The other Salma smiled. "Masha Allah. We are heading to Zaria. We only came to Kano for a visit, but we got delayed into the night."
Salma said, "Uh-huh. May God bring us to our destination safely."
The rest of the passengers fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. The road grew pitch black, and the flow of traffic and pedestrians completely dwindled.
Suddenly, a man collapsed right in front of the vehicle, startling everyone. As the driver prepared to slam on the brakes, a passenger shouted, "Don't stop! I swear this road is dangerous!"
The driver cried, "Innalillahi! I just hit a human being!" He quickly got out. Everyone panicked. The injured man, covered in blood, gasped, "Hurry, drive away! Bandits are chasing me! Drive your car and get out of here!"
Confused and panicked, the driver said, "Get up, let's go! We can't leave you here." But as he approached him, gunfire erupted from all directions.
Amid screams and prayers, passengers scrambled out of the vehicle and fled. The bandits brutally gunned down the driver and the injured man.
Terrified, Salma and four others ran down an unknown path. Suddenly, gunfire opened up right near them. When Salma turned around, she saw that everyone else had been shot down; she was the only one left standing. She burst into tears upon seeing the other Salma cradling the corpse of her brother Umar, whose head had been shattered by a bullet.
The bandits kept pursuing them, firing wildly. With great effort, Salma Aminu managed to persuade the traumatized Salma to leave her brother’s corpse behind, and they continued fleeing into the dark jungle, falling and weeping along the way. They ran blindly through the dense forest until dawn broke.
By morning, the other Salma’s body gave out, and she collapsed. They were completely stranded in the middle of a vast wilderness. Salma Aminu stopped by her side, trying to lift her up. She propped her against a tree, but the girl gasped heavily, saying, "We have run far, sister. I can't go any further. At least I know we escaped those bandits." Her eyes were bloodshot.
Salma Aminu wept uncontrollably. The dying Salma continued, "Sister, God is with you. But I am going to die here. They killed Yaya Umar right in front of me; they killed so many people. May God reunite us in paradise."
In a panic, Salma Aminu cried, "No, Salma! You are not going to die. I won't leave you here. Let's push forward; maybe we'll find a stream or water, and you'll be fine."
The girl went silent, too exhausted to speak, merely gesturing with her hand for Salma to leave her behind.
"Salma, I won't leave you. Stay strong, God will help us," Salma said, trying to lift the girl onto her back. Suddenly, the girl went limp and fell back to the ground. Salma quickly knelt in front of her, only to realize she wasn't moving at all.
"Salma!" she screamed. "Salma! Oh please, God. Innalillahi wa innailaihir rajiun!" she cried out, shaking her body.
Salma collapsed over the corpse, weeping so violently it felt as though her own soul was leaving her body. The scorching morning sun began to beat down on her. Starving and physically exhausted, she finally stood up to move forward, praying to encounter another human being.
She looked back at Salma's corpse one last time, sobbing, "Innalillahi wa innailaihir rajiun. Forgive me, Salma. I swear my legs can no longer carry me, otherwise, I would have carried your body out of here. Forgive me, please."
Wiping her tears, she began to limp away, repeatedly looking back at the body until she had walked far enough into the wilderness that it vanished from sight.
Deeply starved, she ventured deeper into the woods but found no edible plants—only a very tall, unripe desert date (Goruba) tree. Unable to climb it, she sat beneath its shade, utterly lost. Suddenly, she felt something slithering behind her. Terrified, she grabbed it and threw it away. Recognizing it as a green snake, she bolted instantly, running blindly deeper into the dangerous jungle.
Back in Kano, dawn had broken, but Salma’s mother had not left her room due to a severe headache that started the previous night. Realizing she hadn't heard any movement from Salma—who usually swept the yard every morning before going back to sleep—she forced herself out of bed. She pushed Salma's door open, but the room was empty. She checked the restroom, but there was no sign of her.
"Where could Salma have gone?" she muttered, a sudden wave of anxiety washing over her.
She hurried toward Malam Aminu's quarters and bumped into Umar, who greeted her respectfully. She asked, "Did you send Salma on an errand?"
Umar replied, "No, I actually just unlocked the main gate myself. None of us made it to the mosque for dawn prayers today." He held up the keys and padlock.
Her heart sank. "Then where on earth is she?"
Hearing their voices, Malam Aminu emerged. "What is going on out here?"
"Malam, Salma is nowhere to be found," her mother answered.
"What do you mean she is nowhere to be found? Go look again," he said in disbelief.
"I've checked everywhere," she sighed.
Malam Aminu led the way back into Salma's room, followed by the others. They searched the room thoroughly. Opening a small trunk on the floor, the father found only three folded hijabs. "Where are the rest of her clothes? Is this all she has?"
Umma and Umar peered inside. "No, almost all of Salma’s clothes are gone," Umma noted.
Malam Aminu concluded, "This means Salma didn't sleep at home last door." He turned to Umar. "Call your father and find out if she went to his house."
Umar quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Alhaji Yusuf. On the first ring, Alhaji Yusuf’s wife handed him the phone. "Salamu alaikum, Umar," Alhaji Yusuf answered.
"Father, good morning. I hope you slept well?"
Alhaji Yusuf replied, "I'm fine, Alhamdulillah. Have you guys set out yet?"
Umar hesitated before asking, "Father, hasn't she arrived there?"
"What do you mean? Has she left?"
Umar handed the phone to Malam Aminu. "Father, explain it to him."
"What is there to explain? What's going on?" Alhaji Yusuf demanded over the line.
"The truth is, Salma is missing. It appears she didn't even spend the night at home," Malam Aminu stated bluntly.
"What kind of nonsense is this? Where could she go? Check again!" Alhaji Yusuf barked before hanging up.
"Alaji, what's wrong?" his wife asked.
"They say Salma has been missing since yesterday," he said, getting out of bed.
His wife gasped, "Innalillahi! How did that happen?"
"I am heading over to Tarauni right now. This makes no sense," Alhaji Yusuf said, leaving the room.
Meanwhile, Salma's parents and Umar stood in stunned silence, completely out of ideas. Suddenly, an idea struck Umar, and he dialed Zainab’s number on speakerphone. It rang out, so he tried again.
The ringing woke Zainab from her sleep. She grabbed her phone and answered groggily, "Hey Salma, so you finally got a hold of Yaya Umar's phone?"
Umar smiled awkwardly at the parents. "No, Zainab, it’s me, Umar, not Salma."
"Oh, Brother Umar! Good morning."
"Morning, Zainab. Did Salma come over to your place?"
Zainab’s heart skipped a beat. She went quiet for a moment before replying, "No, she isn't here. Is everything okay?"
Umar explained, "We haven't seen her since last night."
Panicking, Zainab said, "Innalillahi! But last night she came to my house to return my Hadith book. She had a bag in her hand, and when I asked where she was going, she said she was heading to Aunty Murja’s house."
Malam Aminu and Umma exchanged worried glances. Umar said, "Alright, let me call Aunty Murja then," and ended the call.
Any remaining sleep washed away from Zainab. She sat up in bed, completely baffled, and reached out to pick up the Hadith book Salma had dropped off the night before.
The panic in Salma's household escalated further when they called Aunty Murja—Umma's younger sister—who shocked them by stating she hadn't seen Salma in two or three months.
Back at Alhaji Yusuf's house, Husna rushed into the bedroom to wake her sister. "Aunty Karima, wake up! Father just rushed out. Salma has been missing since yesterday!"
Karima bolted upright. "What?! Which Salma?"
"Mommy just told me," Husna replied, leaving both sisters sitting in stunned silence.
2. Summary
The story revolves around Salma Aminu, an aspiring writer living in a conservative household in Kano. Her creative ambitions are fiercely opposed by her father (Malam Aminu) and tyrannical uncle (Alhaji Yusuf), who associate contemporary Hausa literature with obscenity and moral decay—a stereotype fueled by writers like Salma's classmate, Hadiza. Following a bitter family confrontation where writing is officially banned and Salma is ordered to move into her uncle's strict household, she makes the desperate decision to run away at night.
Tragedy strikes at the motor park when she is forced to board a vehicle bound for Zaria to escape a predatory suitor, Kalifa. En route, the vehicle is ambushed by unforgiving bandits. Amidst the carnage, Salma escapes into the deep jungle alongside a dying lookalike passenger, also named Salma, whose brother (Umar) was killed in the ambush. Left entirely alone in a harsh, perilous wilderness after her companion passes away, Salma faces starvation, wild threats, and psychological trauma. Meanwhile, back in Kano, her panicked family discovers her disappearance and begins a frantic search.
3. Description and Analysis
- Genre and Context: This excerpt belongs to contemporary Hausa popular literature (often referred to historically or structurally as Littattafan Yana-yana or modern Hausa prose). It explores deep-seated cultural anxieties surrounding the Hausa female authorship movement in Northern Nigeria, capturing the ongoing clash between traditional/religious family expectations and individual creative expression.
- Thematic Conflict (Tradition vs. Agency): The narrative highlights the intense societal friction faced by female writers. Alhaji Yusuf and Malam Aminu represent patriarchal gatekeepers who conflate female literacy/storytelling with iskanci (immorality/promiscuity). Conversely, Hadiza represents the bold, uninhibited commercial side of the craft, while Salma Aminu represents the trapped artist who values her voice enough to risk her survival.
- Structural Parallelism and Irony: The author utilizes brilliant narrative ironies:
- The Irony of Judgment: While Alhaji Yusuf is busy banning literature in his house and condemning Salma, his own daughters (Karima and Husna) are secretly consuming explicit literature under his roof.
- The Identity Double: In the wilderness, Salma meets another girl named Salma who travels with a brother named Umar—perfectly mirroring her own family dynamic back home. The brutal death of this alternate Umar and Salma symbolizes the psychological death of Salma Aminu’s old life.
- Pacing and Tone: The narrative shifts rapidly from a mundane, domestic setting (an Islamic school classroom and a family living room) into a high-stakes, gritty thriller involving sudden forced migration (Hadiza's mother moving overnight to Sokoto), rural banditry, and a desperate survival struggle against nature.
