A BOND OF FATE

Chapter 5

The whole secret of a successful life is to find out what is one's destiny to do, and then do it."– Henry Ford

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"Ummi, believe me, and Ya Hamad, you know me well. Why would I shut him down? We're clearly not meant to be, that's all," I exclaimed, curling into the armchair in our parlor. "Mamah, the hypocrite, told my brother that a guy liked me at her sister's wedding, but I shut him down completely. Now, both my family members are all over me. I don't want to be in a relationship, and they should just let me be. But no, they're both talking about marriage, which isn't even on my radar right now."

Ya Hamad warned me, "You better keep quiet over here," and I pouted.

Aunty Yesmeen chimed in, "You can definitely do more than that, Jalila. After all, you're a strong-willed person."

I turned to Ummi, giving her a pensive face, "Ummi, you definitely know your child, right? You know I'm not ready for marriage yet. Aunty Yesmeen didn't even get married until now, and her boyfriend's parents have already met our father. So, why the rush for me? Can't they see I'm not interested?"

"Ummi shakes her head, 'Who knows you?' she says.I rise from my seat, feeling a sense of frustration, and head to my room, before they drive me crazy!' As I enter my room, I reach for my Quran and recite Suratul An'am, finding solace in the familiar words. With Magrib approaching, I carefully place the Quran back on its stand and head to the bathroom to perform my ablutions, preparing myself for the magrib prayer.

As I wash, my thoughts turn to the upcoming month of Ramadan, just a few days away. I look forward to the blessings and peace it will bring - a month of forgiveness, a month when our prayers are answered. I feel a sense of excitement and anticipation, knowing that this sacred time will bring us closer to Allah and to each other.

As I glance out the window, I notice the weather seems dark and gloomy, despite the streetlights casting a warm glow outside our house. I watch as Ya Hamad and Baba leave for the mosque, and I sense that rain is on its way, the wind blowing fiercely. The sky seems to be preparing for a downpour, and I feel a sense of coziness wash over me, knowing that I'll be safe and warm inside."

"The call to Magrib prayer echoes through the house. the rain begins to pour down outside. I perform my Magrib prayer, reciting my azkar beforehand, and then carefully fold my hijab and prayer mat. I exit my room, knowing that my family members have went to pray.

As I enter the parlor, the aroma of the chef's culinary creations wafts through the air, teasing my senses and stirring my hunger. I can't help but wonder why they didn't finish cooking on time - my stomach growls in protest!I mindlessly scroll through my Instagram feed, filled with posts of happily wed couples - a life I admire but never desired for myself. Just as I'm about to put down my phone, Mamah's call interrupts my browsing. What could she want? Or what's happened tonight? She rarely calls me without a reason, probably some juicy gossip to share.

"Assalama alaikum, Masoyiya," her voice echoes from the other line.

"Wa'alaikumu salam, Mamah. Just get straight to the point - what's going on?" I ask, slightly impatient.

"I called to tell you something important," she begins, "and you're already assuming I'm talking about you!"

"What is it, Mamah? Tell me!" I urge, curiosity piqued.

"Ah, the story is... I shared some pictures on IG for you, and guess what? Nazifi is getting married!" she exclaims, almost in one breath.

"Nazifi? What do I have to do with him again?" I wonder aloud, confused. "What's my problem with him getting married or not?"

"Will you stay and listen? He's getting married to Fatima Bugaje!" Mamah reveals, her words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I spring to my feet, my hands on my hips, disbelief etched on my face. "I can't believe it! Fatima, the same Fatima who's a good friend of mine,she knows about our past relationship and never breathed a word about her own marriage plans to me! Not even a hint! And now, she's marrying him? It feels like a betrayal."my mind races with thoughts of distrust and hurt. "Trust someone in your relationship at your own risk. That's why I've sworn off relationships altogether. Who can convince me to take that risk again when everyone seems to be a betrayer?

Now, I understand why Nazifi left you . She must have poisoned his mind with something negative about you to get his attention."Wait and see what I'll do to that stupid soul tomorrow!' she hisses, her annoyance palpable.

I let out a bitter laugh, 'Mamah, calm down, will you?' I say, trying to reason with her.I walk towards the entrance, standing at the top of the three stairs, gazing out at the heavy rain. 'We don't even have the time for them, so let's leave them to Allah,' shaking my head in dismay. Remember , when faced with situations that test your patience and trust, recall the wise words:Allah has already planned everything, and when He removes the unwanted from our lives, He makes way for the blessings and people who truly matter.

Trust in His divine plan and timing, and have faith that He will guide you through every challenge.If something is meant for you, then, by the will of God (Wollahi), nothing can stop it from reaching you. What's destined for you will find its way, no matter what obstacles or challenges may come your way."The rain pours down, a relentless reminder of the turmoil brewing inside me."

"People say I should trust others and fall in love again after what happened? I do have friends, but I prefer to keep a small circle, and I'm cautious about having many female friends. Mamah and I chat for a few more minutes before ending the call. I linger for a while, watching the rainfall, lost in thought. I hum to myself as I walk towards the parlor.

As I enter the dining area, I see Aunty Yesmeen eating, and I know Ya Hamad and Baba are at the mosque, praying despite the rain. They'll wait until Isha prayer is over before returning. I join Aunty Yesmeen, opening the food warmers to reveal tuwo and egusi soup. I serve myself a portion and sit beside her.

'Aunty Yesmeen, did you know Nazifi is getting married?' I ask, trying to sound casual.

She looks at me, surprised. 'The Nazifi I know?

He's getting married to Fatima Bugaje?

Isn't she your friend?' she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of surprise."

"She's no longer my friend," I say with a chuckle. "Mamah told me she's getting married to Nazifi, and she even tried calling her, but she's not picking up. Mamah is really upset,

'Mamah, fah bata da hankali' - let go, it's not worth the stress."

"I chuckled, knowing Aunty Yesmeen's response beforehand. 'Tomorrow, I'll be visiting Maryam, please don't say no, you'll have to give me your car.' I asked, already anticipating her refusal.

She shook her head emphatically, 'No and no! You want to go meet Mamah and go to that  girl place with my car? You must be crazy!' She scolded, her tone firm.

I knew better than to push further, realizing that even if I begged Ya Hamad, he wouldn't lend me his car. And I definitely didn't want my mother to offer to have the driver take me, which would only add to my frustration. I need to find another way to get to mamah  place tomorrow ...

I don't have much to say, so I'll just let the story speak for itself! Please keep voting and commenting, and I'll keep the story going!
And thank you for the encouragement to continue the story!