THE COLLISION OF WORLDS
***
Assalamu Alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuh, my amazing readers. 🤍
First of all…
Alhamdulillah. To
All praise is due to Allah, Who has once again given me the opportunity to return with another story.
To everyone who journeyed with me through KADDARAR ZUCIYA, thank you from the depths of my heart. Your love, encouragement, prayers, comments, and unwavering support have inspired me to keep writing. I truly appreciate every single one of you. ❤️
And now…
It’s time to begin a brand-new journey.
🖤 ZAYD 🖤
This isn’t just another love story…
It’s a story of dreams, family, sacrifice, destiny, power, heartbreak, healing, and unexpected encounters that change lives forever.
You will laugh.
You will get angry.
You will cry.
You will celebrate.
And above all…
You will fall in love with this journey.
One little request from me…
Please don’t judge any character too quickly.
Sometimes the hero may seem cold.
Sometimes the heroine may seem stubborn.
Sometimes the villain may not be the person you expect.
Just trust the process…
Everything happens for a reason.
⸻
⚠️ DISCLAIMER
ZAYD is a complete work of fiction.
All characters, names, events, places, businesses, and situations portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously for storytelling purposes.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, real events, organizations, or places is purely coincidental and entirely unintentional.
This story is written solely for entertainment purposes.
⸻
So…
Fasten your seatbelts…
Open your hearts…
And come with me on this unforgettable journey.
I promise you…
ZAYD is going to be a BANG! ❤️🔥
*ZAYD🫀*
*CHAPTER-ONE: 1*
*A COLLISION OF WORLDS*
*JIDDAAH BARKUM*
Bismillahirrahman Arraheem….
———
Ƙarar agogon bango ce kaɗai ke ratsawa cikin parlour ɗin gidan Malam Musa.
Parlour ɗin ba ƙarami ba ne, ba kuma wani katafaren wajen alfarma ba, gida ne na matsakaicin iyali mai tsafta da tsari. Kujerun upholstery masu launin coffee brown sun zagaye ƙaramin center table na gilashi, wanda aka ɗora remote na talabijin, wayar Baffa Musa da kuma ƙaramin Qur’ani a kai.
A ɗaya gefen bangon kuwa, wata tsohuwar LG television ce rataye, a kashe take, sama da ita kuma agogon bango ne mai farin launi, wanda ƙar tik… tik… ɗinsa ta mamaye shirun da ya lulluɓe gidan. Labulen taga masu launin milk suna motsawa a hankali sakamakon iskar da ceiling fan ɗin ke kaɗawa.
A kan center table ɗin, smartphone ɗin Baffa Musa ya sake yin vibrating, bzzzz… ya yi shiru, sai ya sake bzzzz… amma ko kallonsa bai yi ba. Idanunsa sun manne da agogon bango, 06:00PM. Ya sake dubawa, har yanzu 06:00PM.
Ya sauke numfashi mai nauyi, hannunsa ya matse armrest na kujerar da yake zaune har jijiyoyin da ke bayan tafin hannunsa suka fito fili.
A gefe guda na parlour ɗin, Hajara tana zaune a kan ƙaramin tabarma kusa da kujerar da mijinta yake, farar shinkafa ce a cikin wani babban kwano a gabanta, tana tsinta a hankali. Amma tun mintuna da dama da suka wuce, hannunta ya daina motsi, ta san abin da ke damun mijinta, ta kuma san abin da ke gab da faruwa.
Baffa Musa ya sake kallon agogo, sai ya buga armrest ɗin kujerar da ƙarfi, PAAH!
“Wallahi Hajara,” muryarsa ta fito cike da takaici, “yarinyar nan ta raina ni.”
Hajara ta lumshe idanunta na ɗan lokaci kafin ta buɗe su, a hankali ta ce, “Malam…”
“Kada ki fara,” ya katse ta ba tare da ya bari ta ƙarasa ba, ya nuna agogon bango da yatsansa, “kin ga ƙarfe nawa?”
Ta ɗaga idonta ta kalli agogon, shida na yamma, ta sake sauke kanta.
“Malam, ka san practicals ɗinsu wani lokacin—”
“Kina kare ta kenan?” ya sake katse ta, “kullum abin da kika iya kenan.”
Ya miƙe tsaye, ya fara kai-kawo cikin parlour ɗin, takun sawunsa kaɗai ke ƙara nauyin shirun gidan.
“Medical student,” ya faɗa cikin wata irin murya mai cike da fushi, “kamar ita kaɗai ce ke karatu a Kaduna.”
Ya tsaya, ya juyo ya kalli Hajara, “wane irin karatu ne har ƙarfe shida ba a dawo gida ba? Ko gidan uban wa ta tsaya?”
Hajara ta haɗe hannayenta, “ka yi haƙuri Malam, ta saba dawowa kafin lokaci, wataƙila yau ne kawai—”
“Wataƙila!” ya kwaikwayi kalamanta cikin fushi, “kullum sai wataƙila!”
Sai ya yi shiru, shiru mai nauyi har Hajara ta fara jin tsoron abin da zai biyo baya. Daga ƙarshe ya ce cikin wata murya mai sanyi, amma sanyi mai firgitarwa,
“Na gaji, na gaji da wannan makarantar.”
Ya kalli Hajara kai tsaye, “wallahi, gwamma na aurar da ita, ta zauna a gidan mijinta, ni kuma na samu salama.”
Kalmar ta faɗo kamar dutse a tsakiyar zuciyar Hajara, numfashinta ya ɗan tsaya, ta ɗago idanunta cikin firgici.
“Malam, don Allah, kar ka faɗi haka, likita take son zama, wannan shi ne burinta tun tana ƙarama.”
Baffa Musa ya yi wata gajeriyar dariya, dariya marar daɗi.
“Burinta? Burinta ya fi na ubanta kenan? Kina ganin zan ci gaba da zuba kuɗi a makarantar da take amfani da ita wajen yawon banza?”
Ya girgiza kai, “a’a, wannan karon kam na yanke hukunci.”
A dai-dai wannan lokacin, ƙarar buɗe ƙofar parlour ce ta katse Baffa daga maganarsa. Takun ƙafunta masu nuna saurin da take suka shiga cikin falon, farar lab coat ce ta rataye a kan hannunta, yayin da baƙar laptop bag ke sauke a kan kafaɗarta, sanye take da well ironed navy blue hijab har ƙasa.
Kafin ma ta ɗaga kai, ta ji nauyin yanayin da ke cikin gidan, shiru ne mai nauyin faɗa, shiru mai ɗauke da fushi. Gabanta ya faɗi.
“Innalillahi,” ta furta a ranta, “Baffa ya fara kenan.”
Idanunta suka sauka kan Ummanta, Hajara har yanzu tana zaune a kan tabarmar nan, kwanon shinkafar yana gabanta amma ba ta tsinta, kai kawai ta sunkuyar, hannayenta suna haɗe a cinyarta.
Raihana ta gane, ta san wannan yanayin, duk lokacin da Ummanta ta zauna haka to akwai abin da ya faru.
Ta sauke ajiyar zuciya, sai ta gyara hijabinta, ta shiga parlour ɗin gaba ɗaya.
“Assalamu Alaikum,” muryarta ta fito da sanyi, ba don bata tsoro ba, sai don ta karya wannan shirun da ya mamaye gidan.
Baffa Musa bai amsa ba, sai da ya ɗaga kansa a hankali, idanunsa suka sauka kanta, sannan ya kalli agogon bango, ya sake kallonta.
“Sai yanzu kika samu lokacin dawowa gida?”
Raihana ta tsaya, ba ta amsa nan take ba, ta fara ƙarasawa cikin parlour ɗin, ta cire laptop bag ɗinta daga kafaɗa, ta ajiye shi kusa da kujera, daga nan ta kalli Baffa.
“Baffa, practicals muka yi yau, ya ɗan wuce lokaci ne.”
Baffa Musa ya yi wata gajeriyar dariya, dariya marar daɗi.
“Practicals,” ya maimaita, “kullum practicals, kullum lectures, kullum assignments, kamar ke kaɗai ce ke zuwa makaranta.”
Raihana ta haɗiye yawu, ta san idan ta yi saurin magana faɗan zai ƙaru, sai ta yi ƙoƙarin sauke murya.
“I’m sorry Baffa, ba da gangan ba ne.”
Kafin ya ba ta damar ƙarasa, ya katse ta.
“Ni ba wannan nake son ji ba,” ya nuna ta da yatsa, “daga yau kin daina zuwa makarantar nan.”
Raihana ta zaro ido, “Baffa…”
“I said enough!” ya faɗa da ƙarfi, “karatun nan ya ishe ki, na fi buƙatar mutuncinki fiye da degree, gwamma ki yi aure, ki zauna a gidan mijinki, na huta.”
Kalmar nan “aure” ta sauka a kunnen Raihana kamar an jefe ta da dutse, ta kasa magana. Ta juya a hankali, idanunta suka haɗu da na Ummanta, Hajara ta girgiza mata kai kaɗan, alamar “ki yi shiru.”
Raihana ta lumshe idanunta, ta yi ƙoƙarin haɗiye hawayen da suka cika mata ido, amma ba don kanta ba, saboda Ummanta. Ta san idan ta ƙara magana, Ummanta ce za ta sha wahala.
Sai ta sunkuyar da kai, “toh Baffa.”
Ta ɗauki laptop bag ɗinta, ba tare da ta sake cewa komai ba, ta juya ta nufi corridor. Har ta kusa fita, sai muryar Baffa ta sake dakatar da ita.
“Raihana.”
Ta tsaya, ba ta juyo ba.
“Daga gobe, kada ki sake fita da sunan makaranta.”
Ta rufe idanunta, ta sauke wani kalan numfashi kafin ta amsa a sanyaye, “toh.”
Sannan ta ci gaba da tafiya har ta ɓace cikin corridor.
Da ta shiga ɗakinsu, ta jingina bayanta da ƙofar, ta lumshe ido, sai numfashinta ya fara fita da sauri. A hankali ta zame ta zauna a ƙasa, ta rungume gwiwowinta, ta kalli jakar makarantarta. Hawayen da ta daɗe tana ƙoƙarin dannewa suka zubo a hankali.
Ta faɗa cikin kuka, “ya Allah, kada Ka bari mafarkina ya mutu.”
*Asubahin washegari.*
Ƙar kukan zakaru da kiran masallaci sun mamaye unguwar. Bayan kammala Sallar Asuba, Raihana ta fito daga ɗakinsa cikin doguwar rigar bacci mai sauƙi da farin hijabi, fuskarta ba ta nuna baccin jiya ba, amma idanunta sun nuna cewa ta yi kuka kafin ta yi barci.
Ta fara shiga kitchen, ta tarar da ummanta tana ɗora ruwan shayi.
Ta durƙusa, “ina kwana Umma.”
Hajara ta shafa kanta, “lafiya lau, Raihanata.”
Ta kalle ta na wasu daƙiƙu, ta gane har yanzu zuciyar ’yarta tana ciwo, sai ta ce cikin sanyin murya, “je ki gaida Baffanki.”
Raihana ta gyada kai kawai, ba ta yi musu ba, ta san wannan shi ne abin da ya dace.
*⸻*
Ta fito zuwa veranda, can ta hango Baffa Musa zaune a kan tsohuwar kujerar roba, Al-Qur’ani buɗe yake a gabansa, reading glasses yana kan hancinsa, muryarsa tana fita a hankali yana karatun ayoyi cikin nutsuwa.
Raihana ba ta katse shi ba, ta tsaya a gefe, ta jira har ya kai ƙarshen inda yake karantawa. Ya rufe Al-Qur’anin a hankali, ya ɗaga kai, idanunsu suka haɗu.
Raihana ta durƙusa, “ina kwana Baffa.”
Ya ɗan yi shiru kamar yana son ya ci gaba da ɓoye fushin jiya, daga ƙarshe ya amsa, “lafiya.”
Raihana ta ɗan matsa kusa, “Allah Ya ƙara lafiya.”
“Ameen.”
Shiru ya sake ratsa tsakaninsu, sai Baffa ya gyara zamansa, ya ɗora hannuwansa a kan sandar kujerar.
“Raihana.”
“Na’am Baffa.”
“Har yanzu kina son wannan karatun naki?”
Ba tare da ta yi wata-wata ba ta amsa, “eh Baffa, ina son zama likita.”
Ya zuba mata ido, “kawai saboda kina so?”
Ta girgiza kai, “a’a,” sai ta ɗan yi murmushi, “saboda ina son in taimaki mutane, musamman talakawa da ba sa samun kulawa.”
Baffa ya ci gaba da kallonta, a karon farko tun jiya ya ga gaskiyar da ke cikin idanunta, ba wasa take yi ba, da gaske take.
Ya sauke numfashi, “to.”
Raihana ta ɗago kai da sauri.
“Kina iya ci gaba da zuwa makaranta.”
Wani irin annuri ya bayyana a fuskarta, amma bai bari ta yi magana ba, ya ɗaga yatsansa.
“Amma ki ji ni da kyau, daga yau kar na sake ganin kina dawowa gida a makare, na fita, na dawo, shi ne rayuwar ɗaliba, ba yawon banza ba.”
Ta gyada kai, “toh Baffa.”
Ya ci gaba, “kuma kar na sake jin wani labari a kanki, ko daga makaranta, ko daga unguwa, ko daga ko’ina, idan hakan ta sake faruwa…” sai ya tsaya, ya kalleta kai tsaye, “wannan shi ne ƙarshen karatunki, ni kuma zan nemo miki miji, na aurar da ke.”
Raihana ta haɗiye yawu, ta san Baffa baya yawan janye magana idan ya yanke hukunci, sai ta sunkuyar da kanta.
“Na ji Baffa, In Sha Allah ba zan ba ka kunya ba.”
Baffa ya gyara zaman Al-Qur’anin da ke gabansa, “Allah Ya sa haka, je ki.”
Ta durƙusa kaɗan, “nagode Baffa.”
Ta miƙe, sai ta juya cikin nutsuwa. Baffa ya bi bayanta da kallo har ta shiga cikin gida, da ta ɓace daga idanunsa, ya sauke wata doguwar ajiyar zuciya, a hankali ya furta, “Allah Ka shirye ta, Ka kare min ita.”
Raihana na shiga cikin gidan, ba ta nufi ɗakinsu ba, kai tsaye kitchen ta dosa. Hajara tana tsaye bakin murhu tana juye tea cikin flask, da alama tana haɗa breakfast ne ga ƙananan yaran kafin su tafi makaranta.
Da jin takunta, ta juyo, “kin gaida Baffanki?”
Raihana ba ta amsa ba, sai kawai ta ƙarasa da sauri, ta rungume mahaifiyarta tsam.
“Ummaaa…”
Hajara ta rungume ta ita ma, “lafiya kuwa?”
Raihana ta yi dariya kaɗan, “dama, Baffa ya bar ni na ci gaba da zuwa makaranta.”
Hajara ta zaro ido, “da gaske?”
Raihana ta gyada kai cikin farin ciki, “ya ce in ci gaba, amma ya yi mini gargaɗi sosai.”
Hajara ta saki ajiyar zuciya mai nauyi, “Alhamdulillah,” ta ɗago hannayenta sama, “ya Allah, na gode Maka.” Hawaye suka cika mata ido.
Raihana ta riƙe hannunta, “Umma, kina kuka kuma?”
Hajara ta yi murmushi tana goge idanunta, “wannan ba kukan baƙin ciki ba ne, na daɗe ina roƙon Allah kada ya hana ki kammala karatunki.”
Ta kamo hannun Raihana, ta zaunar da ita kan ƙaramin stool da ke kitchen, sannan ita ma ta zauna kusa da ita.
“Raihana, ki tuna da abin da na kan faɗa miki, duk ilimin da mutum yake nema ba zai amfani komai ba idan ya rasa tarbiyya. Ki kasance mai mutunta malamanki, ki mutunta na gaba da ke, ki guji gardama, ki guji abin da zai jawo mutane su yi magana a kanki, mutuncin mace da zarar ya zube ba ya dawowa.”
Raihana ta sauke idonta ƙasa, ta san mahaifiyarta ba ta yi mata wannan nasiha don ta tsorata ta ba, sai don tana sonta.
Ta riƙe hannun Hajara da hannaye biyu, “Umma, In Sha Allah, ba zan taɓa ba ki kunya ba, zan yi duk abin da zan iya, na zama likita, na hutar da ke, na hutar da Yusuf da Aminu.”
Hajara ta yi murmushi, “wannan ba shi ne abin da nake so ba.”
Raihana ta ɗaga gira, “to me kike so?”
Hajara ta ɗan yi dariya, “ina so Allah Ya sa ki zama mace ta gari, idan kika samu hakan, ko ba ki zama likita ba, a wurina kin yi nasara.”
Raihana ta jingina kanta a kafaɗar mahaifiyarta, ta lumshe ido.
“Amma ni fa, zan zama likita, domin na cika mafarkinmu duka biyun.”
Hajara ta sumbaci kanta, “In Sha Allah.”
A dai-dai wannan lokacin, sai suka ji muryar Mama Sabuwa daga tsakar gida,
“Hajara! Har yanzu breakfast bai kammalu bane? Ko yau ma hira za ku zauna yi? Hira su makara a makaranta…”
Hajara ta yi saurin miƙewa, ta nufi gaban tukunyar da sauri.
Raihana kuwa ta juya ta kalli hanyar da muryar ta fito, ta matse haƙoranta, idanunta suka canza, ta san sabuwar ranar nan ma ba za ta wuce lafiya ba, wani abu daban bai faru a gidan su ba.
*⸻*
*Da ƙarfe tara na safe…*
*ARMAN GROUP HEADQUARTERS.*
Ƙatoton ginin mai hawa talatin da biyu ya tsaya cikin ƙasaita a tsakiyar birnin Kaduna, gilashinsa masu sheƙi suna ɗaukar hasken safiyar rana, a saman ginin kuwa babban tambarin ARMAN GROUP ya fito ƙarara, abin da ya isa ya sa duk wanda ya gani ya san cewa wannan ba kamfani ne na yau da kullum ba.
A bene na ƙarshe, shiru ne ya mamaye Executive Office, safiyar ranar ta shiga ta manyan gilashan da suka mamaye bangon ɗakin, tana haskaka faffadan office ɗin da aka tsara cikin sauƙi amma cike da tsari da ƙima.
A bakin glass ɗin, wani dogon mutum ne tsaye bayansa yana kallon ƙofar office ɗin, black tailored suit ne a jikinsa, hannayensa biyu suna cikin aljihun wandonsa. Daga inda yake tsaye, ana iya hangen kusan rabin garin Kaduna, ba ya motsi, ba ya magana, sai shiru.
A hankali aka yi knocking kofar office din, muryarsa ta fito cikin nutsuwa, “come in.”
Ƙofar ta buɗe, Sameer ya shigo cikin girmamawa, sanye yake da navy blue suit, leather file a hannunsa tare da iPad, ya tsaya kafin ya ƙarasa.
“Good morning, Boss.”
“Morning.”
Har yanzu mutumin bai juya ba.
Sameer ya buɗe file ɗin, “Boss, Legal Department has completed the review of the Malali Luxury Estate Project, they’ve cleared every document.”
Shiru ya ɗan ratsa tsakaninsu, sai muryarsa ta fito cike da amo mai taushi.
“Tax compliance?”
“Everything is clear.”
“Environmental approval?”
“Approved.”
“Funding?”
“Fully secured.”
“Good.”
A hankali, mutumin ya juya, nan ne fuskarsa ta bayyana karon farko.
*ZAYD ARMAAN.* Dogon saurayi mai shekaru talatin da huɗu, fuskarsa cike da kwarjini da nutsuwa, gashinsa baƙi ne, an gyara shi cikin tsari, cikakken gemunsa ya ƙara masa kamala, idanunsa masu duhu suna ɗauke da wani irin sanyi mai haɗe da tsoro.
Ba murmushi, ba annashuwa, sai wata nutsuwa da ta sa duk wanda ya kalle shi zai san cewa kalmarsa ɗaya kaɗai na iya sauya rayuwar mutum.
Ya taka zuwa babban teburin ofishinsa, ya ɗauki file ɗin daga hannun Sameer, ya buɗe shi, ba ya saurin yanke hukunci, kowace takarda sai ya karanta ta sosai har sai da ya tabbatar da komai.
Sai ya ɗauki fountain pen ɗinsa, ya sanya signatures ɗinsa cikin nutsuwa, ya mayar wa Sameer file ɗin.
“Proceed.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Sameer ya karɓa, ya yi shirin fita, sai muryar Zayd ta sake dakatar da shi.
“Sameer.”
“Yes, Boss?”
“Cancel my 1 o’clock meeting in the afternoon.”
Sameer ya ɗan yi mamaki, “the meeting with the Dubai investors?”
“Yes, Ummie called, I’m having lunch with her.”
Sameer ya yi murmushi kaɗan, wannan shi ne abu guda ɗaya da yake iya canja duk wani schedule na Zayd Arman.
“I’ll reschedule it.”
“Good.”
Sameer ya juya, ya fita daga office ɗin, ƙofar ta rufe a hankali.
*12:45PM*
Ƙar elevator ta amsa cikin nutsuwa, ding! Ground Floor.
Kofofin elevator ɗin suka buɗe a hankali, Zayd Arman ya fito, takalmansa masu sheƙi suna bada ƙaramar amo a kan farin tiles ɗin reception, hannayensa biyu suna cikin aljihun black tailored suit ɗinsa, fuskarsa a nutse take kamar kullum, ba murmushi, ba annashuwa, sai wannan ƙwarjinin da ya sa duk inda ya taka, mutane ke jin gabansu yana faɗuwa.
Da ma’aikatan reception suka hango shi, duk suka miƙe tsaye lokaci guda.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Arman.”
“Good afternoon, Sir.”
“Afternoon, Boss.”
Ya ɗan gyara kai kaɗan, “afternoon,” muryarsa a taƙaice take, ya ci gaba da tafiya.
Sabuwar receptionist ce tsaye a bayan counter, yau kwananta uku kacal da fara aiki, tun da safe take jin ana ambaton sunan Mr. Arman, amma yau ne karon farko da ta gan shi, ta kasa ɗauke idanunta daga kansa.
Ta raɗa wa wata ma’aikaciyar HR da ke gefenta, “…is that him?”
Wacce aka tambaya ta yi murmushi kaɗan ba tare da ta kalli inda take kallo ba, “who?”
“Mr. Arman.” Ta gyada kai, “yes, that’s Zayd Arman.”
Sabuwar receptionist ta haɗiye yawu, “he looks…” ta kasa ƙarasa maganar.
HR ɗin ta ɗan matso kusa da ita, “don’t stare, he doesn’t like it.”
Nan take ta maida kanta ƙasa cikin jin kunya.
A daidai lokacin, Zayd ya riga ya wuce reception gaba ɗaya, ƙofofin glass na Headquarters suka buɗe kai tsaye, safiyar da ta fara canzawa zuwa rana ta bugi fuskarsa.
A waje, an riga an shirya convoy ɗinsa, black Range Rover guda biyu, sai armored Mercedes-Maybach S-Class ɗinsa a tsakiya, security detail ɗinsa suna tsaye cikin tsari. Da ganin ya fito, duk suka gyara tsayuwarsu.
“Good afternoon, Sir.”
Ya gyada kai kawai.
Direbansa ya yi saurin buɗe masa ƙofar baya, Zayd ya shiga cikin motar ba tare da ya ce komai ba, Sameer kuwa ya shiga motar gaba tare da security coordinator. Da ƙofar Maybach ɗin ta rufe, lead vehicle ta kunna siren ɗinta, convoy ɗin gaba ɗaya ya fara motsi, cikin tsari, ba gudu mai haɗari ba, ba jinkiri ba, sai nutsuwa irin ta mutanen da suka saba da iko.
*⸻*
*Government Medical University, Kaduna. 1:07 PM*
Ƙarar bell ta karade harabar jami’ar, lectures na ranar sun ƙare, ɗalibai suka fara fitowa daga manyan lecture theatres suna tattaunawa, wasu suna dariya, wasu suna gaggawar zuwa hostel, wasu kuma kai tsaye parking lot suka nufa.
A Faculty of Medicine kuwa, dalibai sanye da fararen lab coats suna fitowa rukuni-rukuni, a tsakiyarsu, Raihana ta fito tana rungume da manyan litattafan Pathology da Human Anatomy, black laptop bag ɗinta na rataye a kafaɗarta.
Gefenta kuwa, Haulat ce, kawartace a makarantar since day 1, kuma aminiyarta mafi kusa a faculty of medicine.
Haulat ta kalli Raihana ta yi dariya, “wallahi yau Dr. Shareef ya kusa kashe ni.”
Raihana ta fashe da dariya, “ni ma fa, da ya fara tambayata cranial nerves na ɗauka yau zan yi repeating course din.”
Duk suka yi dariya.
Haulat taɓa hannunta, “amma ke kina da sa’a, kin iya saving kanki.”
Raihana ta ɗaga gira, “saving? Kina nufin guessing.”
“Guessing ɗin ma ai ya ci,” Haulat ta sake dariya.
“Toh yanzu ina za ki?”
“Gida mana, ummaa na jira, kuma na yi wa Baffa alkawari, ba zan makara ba.”
Haulat ta ɗan ture ta da kafaɗarta tana dariya, “toh ni zan yi hostel, sai gobe.”
“Sai gobe,” suka rabu.
Raihana ta gyara hijabinta, ta ƙara matse littattafan da ke hannunta, sannan ta nufi babbar hanyar da ke gaban jami’ar.
A babban gate ɗin jami’ar kuwa, cunkoso ya fara ƙaruwa, masu sayar da pure water, masu meat pie, masu fruit salad, da ƴan Adaidaita Sahu duk sun mamaye gefen titi.
Raihana ta fito daga cikin gate ɗin tana riƙe da manyan littattafan Pathology da Human Anatomy, black laptop bag ɗinta na rataye a kafaɗarta, ta ɗan kalli agogon hannunta, 1:18 PM.
Ta sauke numfashi, “Alhamdulillah, ba zan makara ba yau.”
Ta gyara hijabinta, ta fara takawa zuwa gefen titi domin ta tsallaka, sai dai kafin ta kai bakin titin, ƙar horn din wata tawagar motoci ta karade wajen, piiiiiiiii!!
Lead SUV ɗin convoy ya bayyana daga nesa, baƙaƙen motocin alfarma guda uku ne ke tahowa cikin tsari, mutanen da ke bakin hanya suka fara matsawa gefe.
“Convoy ne! Waye kuma?”
“Wataƙila gwamnati ce.”
“A’a, na Arman Group ne.”
Da jin sunan, wasu ma suka ƙara matsawa baya, amma Raihana ba ta kula da motocin ba, idanunta suka sauka kan wani ƙaramin yaro mai shekaru kusan goma sha biyu, pure water yake sayarwa da kuma bottle water, yana ƙoƙarin tsallaka titi ne da kwandon robobin ruwa a hannunsa.
Da ya ji horn din duk, sai ya rikice, ya tsaya cak a tsakiyar hanya.
Raihana ta zaro ido, “ya Allah…” ta yi saurin ƙarasawa gare shi.
“Zo,” ta kama hannunsa cikin sauri, “kada ka tsaya a nan.”
Yaron jikinsa yana rawa saboda tsoro, “anti, mota…”
“Kada ka damu, mu wuce.” Ta fara ja da shi zuwa ɗaya gefen titi.
A daidai lokacin, lead driver ya sake danna horn, piiiiii!!
Wannan karon ma ya fi na farko ƙarfi, daliban da ke bakin hanya suka sake matsawa, amma Raihana, ko kallon motar ba ta yi ba, ta ci gaba da jan yaron.
Sai dai kafin su isa gefen hanya, yaron ya yi tuntuɓe, kwandon pure water ɗinsa ya faɗi ƙasa, robobin ruwa suka watse a tsakiyar titi, wasu suka fara birgima, wasu suka shiga ƙarƙashin motocin.
Yaron ya tsaya, idanunsa suka cika da hawaye, “wayyo, pure water ɗina…”
Raihana ta tsaya nan take, ba tare da ta yi tunani ba, ta durƙusa, ta fara tattara robobin.
A cikin lead vehicle, direban ya fusata, “what’s she doing?”
Ya sake matsowa gaba kaɗan, security officer da ke gefensa ya ce, “sir, she’s blocking the convoy, blow the horn again.”
PIIIIII!!
Raihana ta ɗago kai, ta kalli motar, sai ta ɗaga hannunta, alamar “ku jira na gama abinda nake.”
Direban ya cika da mamaki, “wai ni take wa alama?” ya sake matsowa gaba kaɗan.
Nan take, ɗaya daga cikin robobin pure water ya murɗe ƙarƙashin tayar motar, yaron ya fashe da kuka, “wayyo, kayan sana’ata…”
Raihana ta miƙe tsaye, fuskarta ta canza gaba ɗaya, ta ɗauki matakai biyu, ta tsaya gaban motar, idanunta suka cika da wani irin fushi.
Security guard ya fito da sauri, “madam! Move aside!”
Ta kalle shi, murya a sanyaye, “kuna gani fa kayan yaron nan.”
Guard ya nuna convoy ɗin, “move, this is an official convoy.”
Ta haɗe hannayenta a ƙirji, “official convoy? Eh, to?”
Guard ya matso, “step aside.”
Raihana ta nuna pure water ɗin da suka watse, “ku fara biya masa waɗannan.”
Guard ya yi dariyar raini, “do you even know whose convoy this is?”
Raihana ta ɗan karkatar da kai, “a’a, kuma ban tambaye ka ba.”
Daliban da ke bakin hanya suka fara kallon juna.
Guard ya haɗiye yawu, ya sake cewa cikin tsawa, “move!”
Raihana ta ɗauki mataki ɗaya gaba, ta nuna yaron,
“yaron nan talaka ne, wataƙila abin da zai samu yau da wannan sana’ar shi ne abincinsu, sai ku zo saboda kuna cikin manyan motoci ku murƙushe masa kayansa? Ba za ku tsaya ku bashi hakuri ba? Ba za ku biya shi ba? Shikenan?”
Guard din ya rasa abin cewa.
A cikin Maybach, Sameer ya ɗaga kansa daga wayarsa, ya kalli ta cikin gilashin motar.
“Boss…”
Zayd bai ɗago ba, har yanzu yana duba reports a tablet ɗinsa.
Sameer ya sake magana, “sir, there’s a lady blocking the convoy.”
Zayd ya amsa ba tare da ya ɗago ba, “handle it.”
“Sir, I think you’ll want to see this.”
A karo na farko, Zayd ya ɗaga kansa, Sameer ya matsa kusa da window,
“she isn’t scared, and she’s refusing to move.”
Zayd ya ɗan lumshe ido, a hankali, ya kalli tinted glass ɗin motar.
A waje, Raihana ta sake matsowa kusa da bonnet, guard ya yi yunƙurin dakatar da ita, ta kauce masa, sai—TAF! Ta kai tafin hannunta kan bonnet na Maybach ɗin, ba duka mai ƙarfi ba ne, amma ya isa ya sa gaba ɗaya wajen yin shiru.
Students, security, kowa ya tsaya.
A cikin motar, tablet ɗin Zayd ya sauka a hankali daga hannunsa, idanunsa masu duhu suka ɗago, a karon farko, suka sauka kan yarinyar da ke tsaye a gabansa, sanye take da white hijab, farar lab coat na rike a hannunta, manyan littattafanta na manne a ƙirjinta, fuskarta babu ko alamar tsoro, sai fushi, da kuma wani irin ƙarfin hali da bai taɓa gani ba.
Sameer ya kalli Zayd, “should I call the police?”
Zayd bai amsa ba, har yanzu idanunsa na kanta, bayan wasu daƙiƙu, ya furta cikin sanyin murya, “…open the window.”
*A wajen...*
Raihana har yanzu tana tsaye a gaban Maybach ɗin, numfashinta yana fita da sauri saboda ɓacin ran da take ciki, pure water ɗin yaron har yanzu na watse a ƙasa, yaron kuwa ya durƙusa yana tattara robobin cikin rawar hannu, idanunsa cike da hawaye.
Daliban da ke bakin hanya gaba ɗaya sun tsaya, babu mai motsi, babu mai magana, sai rada kawai,
“wallahi yarinyar nan ta shiga uku,”
“ta san ko wa ke cikin motar kuwa?”
“wai da gaske ta buga motar? Wannan ba ƙaramin bala’i ba ne.”
Ɗaya daga cikin security guards ya sake matsowa kusa da ita, fuskarsa cike da takaici.
“Madam, I said move away.”
Raihana ba ta ma kalle shi ba, ta ci gaba da ɗaukar robobin pure water tana miƙa wa yaron. Da ta gama, sai ta miƙe tsaye, ta goge hannunta, daga nan ne ta juyo ta kalli security guard ɗin.
“Kai,”* ta kira shi cikin sanyin murya.
Ya amsa da ɗan ƙarfi, “what?”
Ta nuna yaron da yatsa, “za ku biya masa kayan nan.”
Guard ɗin ya yi wata gajeriyar dariya, “you must be joking.”
Raihana ta ɗan matsa gaba, “shin kana ganin kamar wasa nake yi?”
Ya ɗaga gira, “you are delaying my Boss.”
Ta haɗe hannuwanta a ƙirji, “ni kuma ina jiran Boss ɗin naka ya fito.”
Nan take fuskar guard ɗin ta sauya, “what?”
“I said,” ta maimaita cikin nutsuwa, “ya fito, ina son na ji daga bakinsa, wai da gaske yana ganin rayuwar mutane ba ta da daraja ne?”
Daliban da ke bakin hanya suka haɗiye yawu,
“wai, ta ce ya fito?”
“ta haukace.”
“ko waye ne wannan Boss ɗin?”
Guard ɗin ya yi yunƙurin kama hannunta, Raihana ta ja baya da sauri,
“kada ka kuskura ka taɓa ni, ni ba barauniya ba ce, ba kuma mai laifi ba, idan kuna da iko ku yi amfani da shi yadda ya dace.”
Shiru ya sake mamaye wajen.
A cikin Maybach ɗin kuwa, Sameer ya kasa ɗauke idanunsa daga kanta,
“Boss…” ya faɗa cikin mamaki, “she wants you to come outside.”
Zayd bai ce komai ba, har yanzu idanunsa suna kanta, yana kallonta cikin nutsuwa. Ba wai saboda kyawunta ba, kyawawan mata ya saba ganinsu, ba kuma saboda yadda take magana ba, mutane da yawa suna masa magana.
Amma abin da ya tsaya masa a rai shi ne, ba ta tsoro ko kaɗan, ba ta san ko waye shi ba, kuma ko da ta sani, da alama ba zai canja mata komai ba.
Sameer ya sake magana, “sir, should I call the police?”
Zayd ya ɗan karkatar da kansa, “no.”
“Security?”
“No.”
Sameer ya ƙara ruɗewa, “then what should we do?”
Zayd ya sauke idonsa na ɗan lokaci, sai ya mayar da su kanta, murya can ƙasa, mai sanyi amma cike da iko,
“drive around her.”
Sameer ya zaro ido, “excuse me?”
“I said, drive around her.”
Ba wanda ya sake magana, direban ya kunna gear a hankali, ya juya sitiyari kaɗan, Maybach ɗin ta fara kaucewa daga inda Raihana take tsaye.
Raihana ta matsa gefe kaɗan, amma idanunta suna kan motar, fuskarta babu tsoro, sai takaici, tana kallon yadda motar ke wucewa a gabanta.
A dai-dai lokacin da Maybach ɗin ke wucewa, tagar bayan motar ta sauko ƙasa kaɗan, ba sosai ba, kaɗan kawai.
Raihana ta ɗaga kai, idanunta suka haɗu da wasu idanun, masu duhu, masu nutsuwa, masu cike da wani irin iko.
Mutumin da ke cikin motar bai yi magana ba, bai yi murmushi ba, bai nuna fushi ba, kawai ya zuba mata ido.
Raihana ita ma ba ta kau da kanta ba, na wasu daƙiƙu kaɗan, idanunsu suka ci gaba da kallon juna, kamar kowannensu yana ƙoƙarin karanta ɗayan.
Sai tagar ta fara rufewa sama a hankali, motar ta ci gaba da tafiya, convoy ɗin gaba ɗaya ya wuce.
Raihana ta bi motocin da kallo har suka ɓace daga ganinta, ta girgiza kai,
“mugu kawai,” ta faɗa a hankali.
Ta durƙusa, ta ɗauki robobin pure water guda biyu da suka rage, ta miƙa wa yaron,
“kar ka yi kuka, ka ga ma basu fashe ba.”
Yaron ya share hawayensa, “nagode anti.”
Ta shafa kansa, “je kaji and don’t cry again .”
Ya gyada kai, ya tafi.
Raihana ta gyara laptop bag ɗinta, ta rungume littattafanta, sannan ita ma ta juya ta nufi hanyar gida…
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