Hafiz.
It was so fucking awkward I could die.
My eyes moved from the two grandfathers to the uncles and then back. Father met my gaze midway and I swore he was fucking gloating at my predicament. I could see the 'serves you right' oozing off of him.
The bastard...
"Do you mind taking a stroll around the front yard?" Ashraf called and I was on my feet before he could blink. He chuckled as he followed suit, motioning to Muazu as he did.
Anwar was in the yard, sitting on the cement porch while keeping an eye on the children running around.
"You must think you're so smart, running off with the kids like that," Muazu sat beside him, nudging his shoulder.
"You know I'm awkward with crowds," he scratched his head. I took a seat some feet away from them, wanting to put some distance between myself and these people from an entirely different world.
Ashraf though obviously didn't understand that because he plopped down between Anwar and me, closing the little space I left. Yusuf followed suit and sat beside me so now I was trapped between them.
I sighed.
"They aren't crowds, they're your family," Ashraf said, leaning back with his arms stretched behind him and palms splayed on the ground.
Anwar mimicked his actions with a grimace. "I know."
I could never get over how alike they looked. They looked more like twins than cousins.
"Oh yeah, how did you settle your fan?" Yusuf snickered.
Muazu groaned. "Don't even remind me."
"He already did, what happened?" Ashraf laughed.
"Mstchwww, how did you think? I deactivated my social media accounts and moved. I'm staying near Mama's house now."
Anwar gasped in what I took to be shock. "Are you serious?"
"You could have just informed the police, are you stupid or something? Moving houses all of a sudden?" Yusuf chided.
"What would they do? Give a restraining order? Like they can be that functional."
"They can detain her though," Anwar said.
"I think she's into you," Ashraf snickered.
"Gee, you don't say," Muazu dryly replied.
"Speaking of into people, what about that your colleague? Husna, was it?" Yusuf asked.
"You just like being this way don't you?" Ashraf scowled.
"What way?" He blinked innocently.
"Salma came to the office with Khadija and chewed her out," Ashraf grimaced, looking helpless and indulgent.
"Wow, my sis-in-law did? But she looks so short!" Yusuf gasped.
"Aisha is short, and she's scary when she's mad," Muazu pointed out.
"She's pretty scary isn't she?" He shuddered. "But my sis-in-law is so gentle! It's like a dung beetle eating chicken and ignoring shit, weird!"
Ashraf slapped his head making him yelp. "Don't compare my wife to a dung beetle! What are you, an idiot!?"
"And it's not Salma; she didn't do anything. It's Khadija that did the chewing out," Anwar cleared his throat.
"Aha, that makes so much more sense. Dija is so...expressive," Yusuf snapped his fingers while rubbing his hit head.
Anwar rubbed his nose. "In her defence, the pregnancy hormones were acting up."
"Ah, there it is, the 'in her defence.' If we got a dollar anytime you said that, we'll have forty thousand by now," Muazu teased making them all laugh.
There was something natural, something real and homey about their conversation that made me stare. There were no fake smiles or hidden taunts or insulting looks, just pure familial feelings and companionship.
I looked away and gazed at the children, who were still running about.
I miss Unais and Jasrah.
Contemplating whether to go see them when I returned home, I felt a weight settle on my knees. I trailed my gaze from the tiny hands up the delicate arms to wide black eyes filled with curiosity. Beside him were three tiny creatures gazing at me with the same look in their eyes.
"Are you a girl? You shouldn't leave your hair uncovered. Mama said it's not good." The little boy queried.
I froze, gaze sharpening.
"Mustapha! That's your uncle!" Anwar reached across Ashraf and me to pull him away. I held fast to the boy's hands though and smiled at his annoyed parent.
"It's okay," I looked back at the kids. "Why do you think that?"
"Because girls have long hair, and boys have hair like mine. See!?" He thrust his head forward. "Feel it, it's very tough."
I reached out and touched his hair. It wasn't that tough, just a bit scratchy.
I smiled. "It is pretty tough, yes."
"See, so are you?"
"I just called him your uncle, why are you so dumb?" Anwar glared at him.
"I was talking to this kind man over here, thank you," he pouted at his father before looking back at me.
I laughed, picking him up and settling him on my thighs. "No, I'm a boy."
"Oh, your hair is longer than Aisya's though," he muttered. "Oh! Asiya's my younger sister, the ugly one there," he pointed.
"Who are you calling ugly!?" The girl, Asiya, reached out to pull his hair. The action looked so natural and deft that it must have been put into a lot of practice.
"Let go!" He wailed.
"For Allah's sake stop it, both of you!" Anwar dragged his daughter and settled her on his lap.
"Daddy, he called me ugly!"
"Don't mind him, my dear, you're the finest in the family," he kissed her head.
A wide grin settled on her face, her annoyance gone just like that. It should be a crime how fucking simple children were.
But that was why I adored them.
"So, what are your names?" I directed at the other two children watching the excitement quietly.
"Abdallah." The taller one that resembled Mustapha a lot said.
"Usman, his brother." The shorter and chubbier one said, he had a dimple on his left cheek.
I reached out and shook their hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Hafiz."
"You're fine," Abdallah said.
"I'm sorry?" I blinked, confused.
"He's complimenting you, it means you're good-looking," Muazu chuckled.
"Ahh, thank you," I patted his head. "But why fine though?"
Yusuf grinned. "It's a national slang."
"Oya go and continue playing. Adults are talking," Anwar waved at the children.
They dallied for a moment before taking off to amuse themselves once again in the yard.
"So Hafiz, you and Aliya huh?" Ashraf cleared his throat.
Great.
Anwar continued. "Last time we spoke, you said you didn't want to get married until you were fifty."
"He said that?" Muazu replied, amused.
"He did, and that was like, six days ago. And he sounded serious too, that's why I'm curious about what made him change his mind," Yusuf stated.
"You'll be surprised to know," I said, mouth twitching in annoyance.
Ashraf replied. "Surprise us then."
"I was forced into it."
They stared at me, taken aback before laughing.
"You too?" Muazu snickered.
"What do you mean me too?" I said, taken aback.
"The three of us were also forced into marrying our wives," Anwar said. "Mine and Muazu's are distant cousins and Salma is a friend's daughter."
"And you just went with it?" I asked, put off.
Ashraf smiled wistfully. "Honestly, at that time, I would have done anything to get my folks off my back. Like all the people my age were married with kids so there was pressure both at home and work."
"So you just married a woman you didn't fancy?" I stated, unable to wrap my head around it at all.
"I won't say I didn't fancy her. I wasn't attracted to her or anything, and we had a three-month buffer period to get to know each other. I felt she was okay and I could stand her for many years so I agreed. As for her, she didn't have much of an opinion on the matter. Her parents picked me and she trusted her parents so she just kept an open mind. And Allah with his infinite mercy gave us friendship and love," he replied. The helpless and indulgent look was back in his eyes again.
Muazu nodded. "And it's the same for all of us. We trusted Allah was taking us somewhere and that our parents, the embodiment of His love and mercy towards us, wouldn't harm us either."
I stared at their smiling faces, dazzled and dizzy. "How can you hold so much faith towards something you can't see or feel?"
They looked shocked for a moment before realization dawned on them. "So it's like that..." Yusuf mumbled, looking at me with pity.
"What?" I scowled, hackles raised.
"When that 'something' makes His presence known to you repeatedly through different means. During Sallah, on a tiring day when you're fasting, a sudden thought that strikes, coming across a cheering message when sad. There are so many little things that you ignore that are packed full of Allah's presence in your life," Anwar said.
"It's all in here," Ashraf patted his chest. "That's where you feel it the most. Have you ever loved someone?"
I stared at my palms, their words flying over my head. I couldn't understand a fucking single thing they were saying. It sounded all jumbled and nonsensical to me. "No."
"Well, it's sort of like loving someone. There's this feeling of fullness and happiness whenever you perform an Ibadah, this feeling of reassurance and clearness whenever you remember you're backed by the most wonderful and merciful God," he continued.
"I don't feel shit."
"Yes, because you don't believe in Him. It all begins with belief and sincerity, and then He guides you to him. Step by step," Muazu smiled at me. "There's nothing wrong with you. Thousands of Muslims out there find it hard to connect to Allah. They feel lost and far away from Him, you just need to learn and understand Him more. Hear more sermons about Him, His angels and prophets, His books. Even knowing and understanding the 99 Names can go a long way for you."
"Don't look so disgruntled," Anwar laughed, reaching over to ruffle my hair. "We're with you and we'll pray for you. You're fine, inshaAllah."
"InshaAllah," they echoed.
I stared at their confident and reassuring smiles, thinking they were so damn crazy to even be this way. They were like some obsessed freaks in a cult.
What was so great about this god of theirs that made them this way? Was he real? What was he like?
It just didn't make sense at all!
"You're crazy, all of you," I breathed out, body weak with bemusement.
Yusuf grinned. "Maybe, but it's the good kind."
"To be honest, Aliya is a good person. She's religious and pious yes, but she's also considerate, observant and kind. She has a perfect grasp of situations, knowing when to move and stop. Most importantly though, she's a hafiza with a scary understanding of the Quran," Anwar listed. "You're in safe hands. Just follow her lead."
"She said she's an advocate of men being leaders and women being followers though," I said, a smile teasing the corners of my lips.
"Who Aliya? No way! If you dared to sidestep her when she's ahead, you can be ready for a good showdown. She'll have this look in her eyes whenever she gazes at you as if you're some mannerless goat," Yusuf shuddered.
"This reminds me, you better not cross her. She's scarier than Muazu's wife, Aisha, when she's mad. That girl has a presence when she's pissed and she makes it felt," Ashraf warned.
"She's cute, yes," I agreed.
They laughed, but it sounded mocking to me.
Anwar said in pity. "Trust me Hafiz, you have a handful."
I pictured her tiny self, disbelieving. There was no way I could be threatened by such a tiny existence.
"I'm sure I do," I leaned back with a yawn.
"So what do you do? Seeing as you don't pray, fast or recite the Quran?" Yusuf asked.
"Work. Sleep. Eat, you know, the usual acts of aliens," I deadpanned.
"I'm serious!" He slapped my biceps.
"Okay," I laughed. "Work, eat, sleep, fuck, party, repeat."
"Sorry to say this but that sounds depressing as fuck," Ashraf asserted.
Muazu added. "And pitiful, like I'll be tripping throughout the day, wondering what the heck was wrong with me if I don't pray on time."
"And I'll be watching my back, waiting for the fuckening to strike," Yusuf said.
"The fuckening?" I asked, amused by their use of cuss words.
"It's sort of like when your day is going too well or too bad and you instinctively know some shit is bound to go down," Anwar explained.
"So when it finally goes down, you'll be like, 'Ah, I knew it, the fuckening,'" Yusuf concluded. "I came up with it! Me!" He laughed.
"You just saw a fantasy and fucking ran with it, didn't you?" I laughed.
"I do take my imagination seriously," he nodded with a grin.
"I think the women should be almost done by now, it's been almost three hours now. Wanna go check out how good your bride looks with henna?" Muazu stood up and walked towards me, his palm outstretched in a gesture to help pull me to my feet.
I took his hand and hauled myself up. "Sure, I should take a look."
"But first, you need to go upstairs and change. I believe Uncle had some kaftans made for you," Anwar directed to me the house. "I think you'll look hot in a kaftan."
"Why do I need to wear it? It doesn't sound comfortable."
"It's pretty comfy, aren't we all wearing it?" Ashraf pointed at their bodies.
"And don't we all look hot," Yusuf smirked.
They did look good in it, actually.
"I don't want to wear that," I grimaced.
Muazu patted my shoulder. "Well, it's tradition. You're going to wear it because we're taking pictures for your wedding album."
They all smirked. "You should look forward to it, it's going to be hell. And we're going to enjoy every single second of it."
"Why are you all smiling?" I said, a bad premonition settling in my chest.
"Well, because Saturdays are for weddings. And the main characters for tomorrow are you and Aliya."