Safia’s POV
“Wake up! Wake up! Hamza and Amy are getting married!” I said to Yusuf as soon as I woke up and remembered what day it was.
“Okay, I’m awake now. You can stop shaking me.”
“I don’t think I was this excited for my own wedding! Have you noticed that since I’ve been married, I’ve been finding it easier to wake up earlier?” I asked thinking about how I was refusing to wake up early on my own wedding day.
“I don’t know. I never knew you before we got married.”
“Oh yeah!” I sometimes forgot that I only met Yusuf less than a year ago. I felt like I’d known him my entire life.
With great enthusiasm, I pushed the blanket off me, only to wrap it around me again. It was so cold. Yusuf sat up rubbing his eyes and face. He checked the time.
“It’s 10 o’clock! That’s not early.”
“Earlier than when I used to wake up.” I said and wrapped my night gown around me, forcing myself to get out of bed.
Once we were ready, we didn’t waste any time going to my parents’ house. All of us girls were going to meet there and get dressed up. Yusuf wore his thobe and that was it, he was ready. And he looked good. When we arrived at my parents’ house, I felt so thrilled that I was Yusuf’s wife. It was one of those days where he was just looking much more handsome than usual. Maybe it was because life was now getting much better. We were finding the ease after the hardship. That was physically evident from Yusuf’s glow.
The men were all downstairs and the women were upstairs getting ready. It was chaotic but I found it strangely peaceful.
“Hafsa! Where did you put my mascara?” Aisha shouted to Hafsa who was in the next room.
“I wasn’t using it!” She shouted back. Maybe peaceful wasn’t the right word. But I was just so happy that we were all together on this special occasion. I went into each room saying salaam to everyone. There were girls getting ready in my old room which was taken over by Zayna, in Aisha’s room and even in Amaan’s room. The only door that was closed was mum’s. We had a third floor with one large room where Aisha used to sleep during her visits before but the rooms were swapped with Hamza so Hamza and Amy could have their privacy as a new married couple.
Hamza was close to getting a house of his own but because of Mrs Faber’s health, they were getting married before he could get one. For this reason, Amy had to move in with our family. Everyone was more than happy to have her move in with them.
“Where’s the bride?” I asked no one in particular.
“I texted her, she said she’s on her way.” Hafsa told me. I thought my wedding was sort of simple. We hired a hall for the purpose of space, it wasn’t decorated extravagantly. But this wedding was the true definition of simple. The whole wedding was going to take place at home for the girls and at the mosque for the guys. Amy hadn’t even hired anyone for makeup and hair. She was going to do her own make up and Faiza was going to do her hair.
I delayed getting dressed up even though everyone kept asking me to. There was no point. The wedding was in the evening after Isha because Isha finished so early. It would be a hassle to pray all my prayers while dressed up. Instead, I went around helping everyone else by ironing clothes or maybe fixing their makeup.
When Amy came, I ran outside and we crashed into each other with a hug.
“You’re getting married!” I squealed. She just smiled before she pushed Mrs Faber’s wheelchair into the house. Mum and Aunty Asma were downstairs so we took Mrs Faber to them. They welcomed her and Amy asked if it was okay for her to leave and go upstairs. They all said in unison that it was fine. I noticed Mrs Faber’s speech was much better.
We went upstairs and everyone greeted Amy. Nearly everyone was ready now. I left them to go and pray in my parents’ room. When I returned, everyone was just sat together laughing. The sight warmed my heart. It was one of those special moments I wanted to last forever. Amy had taken her abaya and hijab off and sat in a sweatshirt and jogging bottoms.
“Oh Amy! You look so beautiful! Every bit the perfect bride!” I said and Amy replied,
“And look at you! Such a gorgeous maid of honour!” I was removing my abaya to reveal my pyjamas. Well, I was going to change out of them later and they were super comfortable. I also had an abaya on top so it didn’t matter much.
“I know right! I feel like I’m outshining the bride here.”
“I think so too.” Then Amy got out all her makeup from her bag. “Can somebody pass me a mirror please?” I did so while everyone began their own conversations as Amy applied some makeup on herself. I sat next to her and stared as she put on different products.
“How do you keep your hands so steady? I find it impossible.” Amy looked over at me and then said excitedly,
“Let me finish mine and then I’ll do yours, okay?”
“I can’t let you do mine, you’re the bride!”
“Those are just stupid made up rules. I want to do your make up.” Amy, for some odd reason, loved doing my makeup. Apparently I had the eyes for it. I didn’t really know what that meant.
After Asr, everyone kept pushing me to get ready. So finally, I redid my wudhu and put my dress on. By now, Faiza had finished with Amy’s hair.
“Time for me to do your makeup!” Amy said. I preferred Amy as a makeup artist. She didn’t tell me off for moving like that woman on my wedding day. I observed my face once I was done.
“Hey, I look good! If I may say so myself.” Well it was a drastic improvement.
“You do, masha’allah.” Amy complimented. “It’s my makeup skills. They’re awesome.”
“I would deny it but I really can’t. I like how my eyes look.” I said. It was subtle too so my face didn’t feel so heavy.
“Can I do your hair?” Faiza asked.
“I’m going to wear my scarf. There’s no point.”
“Oh come on, it’s just girls.” Giving in, I let her do my hair. Then I was completely ready. We all prayed Maghrib and then sat down together.
“Time to get into the wedding mood! Wedding nasheeds!” Hafsa said getting out the iPad.
“Does it have to be wedding nasheeds? Can’t we do any other nice ones?” I asked, internally groaning. I had my set of nasheeds I liked. I didn’t like trying out any new ones.
“It’s not your wedding, you don’t get to dictate. Amy, you’re okay with wedding nasheeds aren’t you?” Amy nodded. I narrowed my eyes at her and she just smiled back with fake innocence. The first few nasheeds were okay. They weren’t to my taste. “Time for Maher Zain!”
“No, please. My ears are ringing.” I moaned. I heard one of his nasheeds and it sounded like a pop song. I couldn’t find the meaning in it. Ignoring me, Hafsa put on a nasheed called ‘Barak’allah.’ It was lyrics only, which I preferred. Listening to the words, I found it so sweet!
“Play it again!” I said after it finished. It recited the du’a for the married couple. I quickly learnt the words and with it, the du’a. “Why didn’t I play that on wedding? Why didn’t you play it on my wedding Hafsa?”
“Safia, I was this close to playing it but then you started whining about how you wanted to listen to Dawud Wharnsbey.” Hafsa said.
“Why do you even listen to me? This would have been the perfect nasheed for my wedding. Oh I’m imagining it now! The time Yusuf and I first met as husband and wife. It should have been playing in the background! I want to marry Yusuf again!” I said losing myself in the most amazing daydream. It was a mixture of that memory and my imagination. I was meeting Yusuf for the first time with that nasheed playing in the background and Yusuf wearing the white thobe that he was wearing today.
Nobody even bothered to break me out of that daydream. When I looked around, Amy was missing. She came back into the room, her makeup washed off.
“What happened?” I asked concerned.
“I had to go toilet, therefore I had to do my wudhu again for Isha.” She wiped her face with a tissue and began applying makeup again. Makeup was a hassle, I don’t understand why girls, me included, enjoyed wearing it. Well, it did make us feel prettier. But there were exceptions like my cousin Samiya who hated makeup.
When we all finished praying Isha, Amy finally put her bridal dress on. It was so exciting. We all left my old room for Amy to get ready. She told us when we could come in and when we did, we all gasped. She looked amazingly stunning! I may have been an emotional girl, but never had I gotten teary over a bride.
“You look so beautiful masha’allah!” I said giving her a light hug.
“Thank you.” She said, looking at herself in the mirror. “I want to show my mum.” This was a job for the maid in honour. That meant me. I nodded and put my hijab on again. I went downstairs and called Yusuf out. All the men were in the living room and dining room.
“Wow, look at you! Gorgeous masha’allah!” He said when he saw me. It was one of those moments when I couldn’t help but blush. Ignoring his compliment, I told him what needed to be done.
“You need to get all the men in the living room and close the door. Make sure no one leaves because Amy’s going to go to the kitchen and meet her mum. She’s not wearing her hijab and make sure no man can see her. We can’t take her mum upstairs because of the wheelchair. So let everyone know and stay inside the room until I tell you it’s okay to come out. Understood?”
“Yes sir.” He said. I went back up and five minutes later, I received a text from Yusuf saying Amy could come down now. She did and headed to the kitchen to see her mum. When Mrs Faber saw her, she began to cry. Amy and Mrs Faber hugged one another and I had to walk out of the kitchen to stop myself from crying. When Amy came out a little while after me, she was wiping away her tears.
“You go. I’ll be up in a second.” I said. Amy went and when I was satisfied she couldn’t be seen, I knocked on the door and told the guys she was gone.
It wasn’t much later when Amy’s friends started arriving and the room was even more packed. Then it was time for Amy to get married. She put her hijab and abaya on and we went to the next room with Hafsa and Faiza only. Uncle Yahya came as her wali (guardian) and before I knew it, Amy was married.
This time, I couldn’t hold my tears in. I let myself cry and I hugged Amy. She began to console me and I laughed through my tears.
“I’m happy! Why are you comforting me?” I said. I had no idea why I was so emotional.
A while later, we received a phone call telling us Amy was officially married. Amy was finally married to my brother. It was later in the evening when I saw them stand together for the first time. They were so perfect. When Amy was away talking to her friends, I got a moment to sneak over to Hamza.
“Congratulations! How do you feel?”
“I can’t describe it to you. She’s so hilarious, not to mention absolutely stunning!” He said looking over at her admirably.
“Did you stutter when you were alone for the first time today?”
“A little. You can’t blame me.” I grinned at him, about to make a teasing comment when he spoke up. “I owe you for this. Seriously Safia, you’ve been the most amazing sister. You’ve been like an older sister rather than my younger one at times. You’ve helped me stay on the right path and now you found me the perfect wife. As much as I annoy you, you should know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Oh here came the tears again! What is it with everyone making me cry?
I was so happy that when they served the food, I couldn’t even eat. My brother and my best friend were married! And I helped!