A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 12.

"Obviously her brother will praise her. Yusuf, I'm sorry but I don't think she would be able to keep you happy "

"Why not?"

"She's not very pretty and she's quite boring. She has no idea how to dress-"

"Mum stop, please. I don't care whether she's pretty or knows how to dress. She certainly isn't boring, you don't even know her. Please mum, get to know her. I assure you, you'll like her. And when you do, we can go to her house and ask her dad for her hand in marriage." My mum shook her head.

"No Yusuf. You're young. You don't understand. She won't be able to keep you happy in the long term."

"How do you know? Mum, she's religious, smart, funny, she makes delicious food, she can take care of children well, and she can take care of you! I know you're not fond of what you claim as old fashioned ways but she's different. She's working towards a career but she values her family. She's aware of her priorities. She will help you around the house." Safia herself had told me this. She had said that a wife should take care of her house. She was reminding me of what Sheikh Khalid Yasin was saying in Saturday's talk and explained how she completely agreed with him. She also said that a man should also do some housework too because the Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) used to sew and clean his own clothes. I really admired the things she said.

"You mean, she will cook and clean?" My mum asked thoughtfully.

"Yes mum, she can help." I hoped my mum wasn't planning on using her as a servant. A moment later, my mum responded.

"Okay, we'll go around her house this weekend."

"YES!" I shouted and hugged my mum. She tried to wiggle away but I hugged her tighter. "Thank you!" I grinned.

"But you have to give me the choice of accepting or rejecting her."

"Of course! But if you reject her, you must give a valid reason." My mum let out a sigh.

"We'll see." She replied and got up. “How do you even know her that well?” My mum asked turning to face me.

“I’ve spoken to her through her brother.”

“Hmm. I’ll go see for myself whether what you say is true.”

"So are we going Sunday?" I asked hopeful.

"Why not Saturday?"

"I have to paint Maryam's room."

"You can do that on Sunday. We're going Saturday; I want to get it over and done with." I nodded feeling uneasy at mum saying she wanted it 'over and done with.' This was my life, not a task. But out of respect, I stayed silent.

I went upstairs to my room, the place which was my escape. I looked around wondering what it would be like to share my room with a girl. My feelings were very mixed. A part of me couldn’t wait to have someone in my life, someone who will love me, someone who I could confide in. Another part of me felt like I would be giving up my space and freedom. But when I thought of Safia, I almost wanted to give up my space and freedom. If she really was the way I imagined her to be, then life would be so blissful. I took out my phone and phoned Hamza to tell him we’d be coming over on Saturday.

“Asalamu’alaykum.”

“Wa’alaykumsalaam! Safia and I were just talking about you.” Hamza said as soon as he picked up the phone.

“Liar! You were talking about him!” I heard Safia shout. Hamza had probably been teasing her for days now.

“That’s very flattering.” I responded. “I wanted to ask, have you spoken to your family yet?”

“We’re waiting for uncle Yahya to come. Then we’re going to tell them.”

“Oh okay. I’ve spoken to my mum. We’re coming Saturday in’sha’allah.”

“That’s great! Let me just tell Safia.” Hamza moved the phone away slightly but I heard him say, “They’re coming Saturday.” Then there was a pause and mumbling that I couldn’t make out. “Isn’t that a good thing though?” Some more mumbling. “Okay.” Hamza put his phone against his ear again. “She’s saying it’s too soon.”

“We’re not getting married on Saturday, my mum’s just coming to see her and talk to your parents.” Hamza took the phone away from his ear again. This time he must have covered it with his hands because I couldn’t make out his mumbling either. A few seconds later, he spoke again.

“Saturday’s fine. Look forward to seeing you.”

“You too. Asalamu’alaykum.”

“Wa’alaykumsalaam.” I hung up and felt a happy feeling rush through me. Finally, I was getting closer to marriage. I just prayed this worked out. My mind began to ponder on the possibility of seeing Safia in her house, accidentally of course. Maybe Saturday I would find out whether Safia was the girl in the navy blue hijab.

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    For those who asked or are getting confused with the characters, here's a list with names and ages. You don't have to remember all the characters. Some just pop up from time to time.

Safia – 20 years old. In second year of university.

Safia’s family:

Hamza – 22 years old. Safia’s brother.

Hafsa – 19 years old. Safia’s cousin.

Safia’s mum and dad – 45 to 50 years old.

Uncle Yahya and Aunty Asma – Around 40 years old.

Aisha – 26 years old. Safia’s older sister.

Aisha’s children: Musa (6 years old), Sara (4 years old), Zidan (9 months)

Zayna – 16 years old. Safia’s younger sister.

Amaan – 14 years old. Safia’s younger brother.

Faiza – 17 years old. Safia’s cousin/Hafsa’s younger sister.

Samiya – 13 years old. Safia’s cousin/Hafsa’s younger sister.

Safia’s friends:

Amy – 21 years old. German convert.

Layla – 21 years old. 

Yusuf – 23 years old. Just finished his Alim course. Has started training to become a plumber.

Yusuf’s family:

Aunt Juweria/Aunt Jerry – Around 45 years old. Yusuf’s mum.

Yusuf’s dad – 45 to 50 years old.

Javed – 25 years old. Yusuf’s brother.

Maryam – 15 years old. Yusuf’s sister.