ZARGE Book Free Hausa Novels by Zahra Royal & Salma Ahmed Isa.txt
<p> </p><p>When Habiba handed over the bag she was carrying, their mother let out a hidden sigh of relief. At the same moment, Kaltum's voice broke out as she began scolding Bilal, a habit she indulged in from time to time.</p><p>“You can never just sit down and rest, can you? Day or night, you're always slaving away for other people. Even though they pay you, the work is too much for someone your age. Anyone who sees you sitting down without doing anything will assume you're either sick or it’s nighttime.”</p><p>By then, Bilal had finished rinsing his body and was taking off his shirt, throwing it over the line they used for drying laundry.</p><p>“So you want me to sit idly and let my spirit wither away from now? I believe this health Allah gave me is meant to be put to use.”</p><p>"Yes, I get that, but that's exactly why you have no sense of moderation! You just stuff everything into your stomach, don’t you?" Kaltum shot back at him.</p><p>While she spoke, Habiba was busy pouring the millet flour into a medium-sized container, preparing to soak it properly to make it easier for them to eat. Instead of responding to Kaltum, Bilal turned to Habiba and said, “Please, don’t soak any for me today. Honestly, every day it's the same thing—just like goats eating grass. I’m tired of this porridge and won’t eat it anymore.”</p><p>"Look at this disrespectful child! If you’re not eating it, tell me what else you plan to eat, huh?" Habiba retorted, throwing him a glare while their mother quietly watched him.</p><p>Kaltum, on the other hand, didn’t even acknowledge him; she was already used to Bilal’s antics. Anytime he made such complaints, there was no doubt he had been paid for a job.</p><p>"Bilal, just be patient and eat this. If your father returns later, we’ll prepare something else," their mother said calmly.</p><p>"Forget the porridge, Umma. Let me go and buy us some rice. I’ve been paid for the work I did two days ago, as well as today," Bilal announced.</p><p>"Bilal," their mother called softly, “is that how you’ll squander your earnings in just one day?”</p><p>His face fell as he looked at her.</p><p>“But Umma, isn’t that the point of working—to have food to eat?”</p><p>At this point, Kaltum, who had been busy fetching cups, turned to look at him. Bilal's perspective on life was always different from theirs. What concerned them most of the time didn’t seem to bother him at all. His biggest worry in life was making sure he didn’t go hungry. Even if he was broke, as long as his stomach was full, Bilal was content.</p><p>There was one thing that gave Kaltum some relief—just like them, he attended the Qur'anic school every morning. Though his progress wasn’t as fast as theirs, he was diligent and made every effort to keep up with his studies.</p><p>"Life isn’t just about filling your stomach, Bilal. Don’t you have any interest in Western education, like the other children? Your sisters couldn’t go to school, but at least you have the opportunity," their mother said, her voice filled with hope.</p><p>Bilal bowed his head and made his way toward the door.</p><p>"What kind of Western education, Umma? I… I just…" he trailed off, leaving without finishing his sentence.</p><p>Their mother shook her head, lowering her gaze as he disappeared out of sight. She sighed deeply, her eyes fixed on the ground for several moments before Habiba’s voice broke through her thoughts.</p><p>"Umma… it’s ready," Habiba said, her tone indicating this wasn’t the first time she’d called.</p><p>Startled, their mother raised her head quickly. Her eyes met Kaltum’s, who had been quietly observing her for some time. Since earlier, their mother had seemed lost in thought, her body present but her mind wandering elsewhere. Kaltum had been studying her, aware of how worry had become a constant companion in their mother’s life.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
