GABA DA GABANTA Complete Hausa Novel Document by GABA DA GABANTA

He was an elder, at least fifty years old, sitting on a bench holding a small radio, listening.  

A long, sleek Annoconda-style car pulled up along the driveway, its speed stirring up a small whirlwind of dust.  

At the entrance of a rusty gate, the car screeched to a halt, and a sharp horn blared—it sounded like a battle cry.  

Startled, he dropped the radio in his hand, quickly stood up, and hurried toward the gate, struggling to open it.  

As he struggled with the gate, the car nudged forward, entering a section of the compound.  

A young woman stepped out of the car. At first glance, one might assume she hadn’t eaten—judging by her frail frame and the clothes she wore—but she was far from ordinary. Her smooth skin and poised demeanor revealed her refinement. She wore a long dress made of fine material, a headscarf, and a pair of sleek, pointed shoes.  

She walked toward the old man, who was still wrestling with the stubborn gate. She studied him with a piercing gaze before saying:  

*"Are you some kind of ghost? You look like you have no blood in your body—or maybe you don’t even eat? Whatever food you consume must be useless because it does nothing for you! I swear, starting today, if I honk and you don’t open this gate immediately, I’ll fire you for your incompetence. There’s no point in keeping you here as a gateman. Daddy insisted on hiring you, but clearly, it was a mistake."*  

The old man stayed silent, bowing his head as the young woman—no older than his own daughter—continued to scold him harshly.  

She opened her purse, pulled out three thousand naira, and tossed it on the ground.  

Here, take this and buy me Irish potatoes. They’ll be cooked for me—my stock has run out."

With forced respect, he bent down to pick up the money and said, It’s been a while… but I’m not sure what you meant by ‘Irish’?"