Safia’s POV
“Hamza, this isn’t a four bedroom house,” I said, shaking my head at him.
“But that’s what the guy who’s selling it said.”
“This house has such a similar layout to ours, minus the attic conversion that we have. How can you not tell?” I asked. Hamza had driven us to Yusuf’s mum’s house so that his family could see Adam and Maria. We dropped them and Yusuf off and came to see our possible future house.
Due to the lack of space, Amy offered to travel on the bus and we met her at the house. Currently, Amy, Hamza and I were exploring the building while my children were with their father at their grandma’s.
“Did the guy live in this house or did he rent it out?” Amy asked, coming down from the dusty stairs.
“I think he rented it out.” I rolled my eyes at Hamza. I doubt he even talked to the nearly previous owner properly.
“He probably rented it out to two families. One must have used two rooms upstairs as bedrooms and the other family probably used two rooms downstairs as bedrooms. Much like how we’re planning to do so.”
“How can you tell?”
“The middle room upstairs has some kitchen counters.”
“That’s perfect for us. Although, I think I owe you an explanation, Hamza. This so-called bedroom is like our equivalent of a living room.”
“But it’s tiny for a living room,” Hamza said peeking inside again. I elbowed him for being stupid.
“Please act a little smarter for your wife. I’m so sorry about him Amy. Anyway, this room is small because the kitchen is big. Well, the kitchen slash dining room slash living room. And I’m wondering if we should put a wall up to divide it into a living room and kitchen instead of having them both together.” I tapped my chin with my finger, wondering about what adjustments could be made.
“Stop getting ahead of yourself, Saf.”
“Ia.”
“What?”
“I just completed my name.”
“Can we get back to discussing the house please?” Amy asked, looking between both of us. “I like it,” She commented.
“I like it too. It’s perfect. Well, it has potential to be perfect.”
“Are you sure two bedrooms each will be enough?”
“It will be for now. In’sha’allah when the kids get older and you have your own little ones, we’ll have enough to buy our own house. What if the neighbours put their house on sale! And we could buy it and be neighbours!” I squealed in delight at the thought.
“And I thought you getting married will help me get rid of you forever,” Hamza said, pouting slightly to show how sad he was.
“That’s not the impression I got when I married you,” Amy said, receiving a glare from Hamza.
“Ooh, do tell. What did he say?”
“I said you were fat and crusty.”
“He said he missed you and it used to be fun when you were home. Aww.”
“Aww! I knew it!”
“Back to the house! So you both definitely like it, right?”
“Yes, I like the layout.” I replied.
“So do I,” Amy agreed.
“Okay, I’m just going upstairs to check how much work needs to be done again.” Hamza left and I turned to Amy with a huge grin which she returned.
“So, roomie, isn’t this exciting?”
“I do have one concern though,” Amy said, her grin faltering.
“What is it?”
“I know we’re going to have a door to separate upstairs from downstairs so I can roam around upstairs without my hijab on. But say I wear my hijab and walk down, open the door and Yusuf’s about to leave for work and I see you two, you know, saying ‘bye’ to each other at the door, if you know what I mean?” She put air quotes around the word bye and gave a slight wink.
“I’m sure we have enough sense not to say ‘bye’ too each other at the door.” I copied her air quote gesture. “That can be done elsewhere.” I pointed towards the living room kitchen thing.
“Ooh I see the flame hasn’t died.” Amy nudged me playfully.
“Be quiet, Hamza might hear. I don’t want you to make inappropriate jokes in front of my brother.” I turned my back towards Amy so she couldn’t see my smile. Just then, my phone started ringing.
“My psychic abilities tell me that’s Yusuf,” Amy said, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead as if she was using her ‘abilities’ to guess.
“And my motherly psychic abilities tell me one of my babies is crying.” I picked up the phone and sure enough, I heard a cry.
“Can you and Hamza come and pick us up now? Adam’s starting to scratch himself,” Yusuf said, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he was.
“Sure. I’ll let Hamza know."
“Quickly please.” I put the phone down and called Hamza. Amy took a bus home while Hamza and I left in the car straight away and it only took five minutes to get to Yusuf’s mum’s house.
Yusuf was standing outside with Adam, rocking him from side to side in the cool air. The cold helped his skin feel less itchy. As soon as the car parked, I jumped out and ran to him. I took Adam in my arms, cuddling him and hoping to soothe his cries.
“It’s okay baby. I’m here now. I was only gone for twenty minutes.” I looked up at Yusuf. “Where’s Maria? And call Maryam out please.”
“Maryam! Come out with Maria.” Yusuf yelled inside. Maryam emerged with a happy looking Maria.
“Safia! Asalamu’alaykum.”
“Wa’alaykumsalaam. Yusuf, take the bottle of milk out of my bag. I think Adam’s hungry.”
“Come inside and feed him,” Yusuf said then there was an awkward pause.
“I’ll feed him in the car.”
“Let me go and ask mum. I’m sure she’ll agree that you can come inside.”
“But Hamza’s waiting…” He left before hearing what I had to say. “Oh dear.”
“Oh dear indeed. He remains so hopeful,” Maryam whispered sadly.
“Don’t be dramatic. Yes he’s hopeful that his mum would accept me, but even if she doesn’t, it could be worse. What if he had to choose between me and her? As in, choose to remain a son or a husband. Sadly there are people going through that and my heart cries out to them. Even though your mum and I don’t get on, at least Yusuf can be a son and a husband, right?”
“All that went right over my head because Adam was smiling at me,” Maryam said staring down at Adam who had cheered up.
“My epic wise speeches are wasted on you.”
“But he’s smiling at me. I think that counts as a valid excuse.” I was about to reply when Yusuf came out looking like a storm. He picked Maria up and demanded,
“Let’s go.” Seeing Yusuf’s reddening face, Maryam waved and crept inside her house. I walked down the road, leading Yusuf to the car.
“You didn’t shout at her, did you?”
“Of course not. That’s partially why I’m irritated. Do you reckon stubbornness has something to do with pride?”
“I think it does in some cases.” Wanting to change the topic and extinguish Yusuf’s anger, I began talking about the house. “The house is perfect. It still needs a lot of work, but I honestly think it’s great. With you and Hamza buying it together, it’s definitely affordable. Amy and I want to decorate though, so leave that to us.”
“So, you’re completely okay with moving out of your parents’ house?” Yusuf asked as we reached the car. We opened the car doors and Hamza straight away began complaining about the lack of parking spaces.
“The whole road is packed with parked cars. It’s annoying!” Ignoring him, I answered Yusuf’s previous question.
“Moving out with Hamza and Amy was my idea.” I reminded him as I strapped Adam into his car seat.
“You’ll still be alone at times, you know that, right?” Yusuf said, checking if Maria was strapped into her car seat securely.
“I know, but I’m sure I’ll manage with a couple of other people.” Looking at the car seats, I realized I didn’t have any space to get inside. Feeling too lazy to pull Adam’s car seat out, I asked Yusuf to do so instead. “My dear, strong, muscular husband, can you take one of the car seats out so I can sit in the middle of these two, please?” Yusuf cracked a smile at that and pulled Maria’s car seat out and I got in.
“Ignore me. It’s fine. I’m used to it now.” Hamza said looking out the window.
“Well we’re doing more important things here. I think police in Britain are a little too strict with children’s car seat rules. I mean, giving fines up to hundreds of pounds? That sounds a bit extreme.” I said, disliking the lack of space in the back of the car. I took the bottle of milk out of its small bag which kept it warm and put it in Adam’s mouth.
“It’s for safety. I think the law’s good,” Hamza replied. Yusuf agreed with him and I argued for the sake of keeping a conversation. And because I found it fun.
When we got home, I was told to ‘talk some sense’ into Hafsa. Yusuf took Adam and went up to our room to put some cream on his skin. We were told by the doctors to apply it regularly. Maria was starting to get a little hungry so I made her milk. I was slowly switching her onto powdered milk now.
I sat in the living room and Hafsa offered to feed Maria. I handed Maria and the bottle of milk over before I went straight into the issue.
“So what’s this whole problem with marriage and you?” I asked folding my arms.
“Whatever it is, it’s not my fault.”
“What happened?”
“There’s a proposal coming tomorrow and I told dad to tell them not to come. I don’t want to get married yet.” I’d known Hafsa my whole life so I knew this was her attitude to marriage. First she wanted to complete her studying, and then she wanted to start thinking about marriage. I thought her parents understood that.
“Are they pressurizing you to get married?” I asked, shocked. Uncle Yahya and Aunt Asma would never do that.
“No. It’s mum’s inability to say no to people. So this dude told his mum to ask for my hand in marriage and his mum phoned my mum. She asked if they could come and see me and my mum gave in. Mum and dad just said to let this guy come and then I can reject.”
“So? What’s the problem? If you don’t want to marry him, reject him.”
“I don’t want any proposals to come yet. I want to study. I’m not interested in those things.” Hafsa scowled at me, probably getting annoyed at how I wasn’t immediately taking her side.
“Just because a guy is coming, that doesn’t mean you have to get married right now.”
“But if I don’t want to get married yet, why are guys coming? Why can’t mum and dad say I’m off limits?”
“Off limits?”
“Yes. I don’t want to marry early like everyone else. I have other dreams.” Hafsa said, looking away as if distracted in her dreams.
“And we don’t have dreams? I want to become a teacher. I have my degree and I will be a teacher, in’sha’allah, as soon as my babies grow up a little.”
“I didn’t say you don’t have dreams,” Hafsa sighed. “I said I have other dreams. Ones that don’t include getting married any time soon. I’m only still twenty. And don’t think just because you got married at twenty that I have to as well.”
“You’re nearly twenty one. It’s young but not that young.”
“It is that young! For me, anyway.” Hafsa and I had differing views on what age was considered young for marriage but we never tried to change the other’s view.
“That’s what you think. Anyway, don’t worry about this. I understand what you’re saying and I’ll talk to Uncle Yahya and Aunt Asma about it.” Hafsa smiled at me gratefully. “Did you even tell them how you feel?”
“I was planning on doing so but I find it awkward.”
“You have the coolest most understanding parents ever! How can you find it awkward talking to them?”
“You’re their niece, I’m their daughter. Believe it or not, it is a little different.”
“I truly believe you could have just sorted this out yourself, but I’ll speak for you anyway. Only this time though. I can’t believe you haven’t told how you feel. You must communicate to keep a relationship healthy.”
“Okay, stop lecturing me now,” Hafsa said frowning at me. “You sound old.” Then she smiled mischievously. “From now on, I’m going to call you granny Safia.”
“At least come up with a more original name. Now back to what we were saying. Promise me you’ll try and talk to your parents if an issue arises in the future. Believe me; they’ll understand you just fine. Promise?”
“I promise I’ll try,” Hafsa said giving in.
That evening I spoke to Aunt Asma and Uncle Yahya. We came to a conclusion that tomorrow’s family would come with their proposal but after that, no more for at least two years. That was Hafsa’s wish.
Aunt Asma and Uncle Yahya gave me a very motherly and fatherly look after we came to the conclusion and Hafsa left. They proceeded to praise me and pray for me. It was really flattering and slightly weird. Looking at their faces, I felt so lucky. The amount of people who loved me and supported me was amazing. I wasn’t sure if I even deserved that much but Allah had blessed me with this.
That was when I was sure my depression days were over. And to make things better, in a matter of days, Yusuf and Hamza bought that house and began working on it. We were going to have our own home with our small family. Our dreams were becoming reality.