“Ummi, I can’t wait to be in Saudi Arabia. To say the fact, I’m tired of this country. I just want to go back, it’s annoying here.” My second born – Nusaybah said to me with a frown on her face.
“Just tell us when you will finalise your Nikaah with Abdur-rahman. Did you hear me Nusaybah” I replied my daughter while watching the television in the living room.
“What did you just say, Nikaah, Subhanallah – Dad did you hear what Ummi said” Nusaybah faced Imrān.
“And is anything bad with what my wife said or are you young enough to get married. I won’t abhor illegal relationship in this house” Imrān queried back, whilst bringing out some Jilbab from a paper bag.
“Ummi, can you please speak to Dad. Of course, I’m just sixteen and quite young. But why me.?” Nusaybah inquired looking at me.
“Because you are matured enough, you are the first female child and stop behaving childish. Look, can’t you see how fat you are. Can anyone see us together and still admit that I gave birth to you. Of course not, you don’t look like your age. I guess your dad had told you to reduce your calories intake. And, please don’t disturb my husband.” I blurted out.
Immediately, I quickly diverted my eyes to Imrān who had just brought out new jilbabs from a paper bag. I guessed they are for me. Who knows? “Really, this jilbab is nice, are they for me.?” I asked Imrān checking out the jilbab as he called out to our third and last child- Juwayriyah, Nusaybah’s younger sister.
“Of course not, I bought them for my daughter. Didn’t I buy for you and Nusaybah the other time. This is for my daughter.” Imrān said to me. “Hope you like it, I selected nice colours for you.” He said to Juwayriyah while handling some pairs to her.
“But these colours are dull, I don’t like it. You should have bought wine colour instead of this dark and odd grey colour.” Juwayriyah said.
“Learn to appreciate what your dad bought for you and stop complaining like your sister, – Nusaybah. If you don’t wear all those jilbab. I assure you that you won’t step your feet in Saudi Arabia. You will continue your education here either you like it or not.” I told her angrily.
“Still I don’t know why dad sent the two of them over there and left me here suffering in this country. It is so unfair. Are they not meant to stay here” Haneef my first child interrupted.
“It’s your dad’s decision, not mine. So you better face him and tell him yourself.” I retorted.
“Abu, – you are not talking. Why did you send them there” Haneef asked his father.
“I sent them there cos I’m their father, any problem with that mister man. I don’t think you should be uncomfortable about that.” Imrān asked his son.
“Nusaybah, Yunwa nake ji. Is there anything to eat.? I’m so much hungry” Haneef asked Nusaybah.
“Can you see, I’ve told you times without numbers not to speak that dialect to me again. I don’t understand. Can’t you just speak english. What’s that stuff you just blurted out.” Nusaybah asked haneef.
“Abu haneef, did you hear that? I mean what your daughter just said” I asked Imrān. – “I think I’ve told them times without number to reduce their English speaking in this house and speak their mother’s tongue.” -“And you Nusaybah”, I said as I faced her. “Just because he is a year older than you right? I won’t like that approach in speaking to your elder brother. Please for Allāh’s sake. Do not kill me these children.” I raised my voice.
“Nusaybah, do the right thing immediately” Imrān said, fixing his gaze at his daughter.
“I’m so sorry mum, it won’t repeat itself again Insha Allah. Haneef, please do forgive me.” Nusaybah pleaded.
“No problem, dear sister. You are forgiven” Haneef replied smiling.
“Bro haneef, Wane irin abinci kake so?” Juwayriyah asked haneef cheerfully.
“Really, did you just asked me that, Juwayriyah. That’s nice I’m proud of you. Rice is okay” Haneef replied happily as he left for his room.
“Haneef, in a minute food will be ready, Juwayriyah let’s go” Nusaybah said as she left with Juwayriyah to the kitchen.
“Children are hard to be predicted.” I thought to myself as I was left alone with Imrān in the living room.
“Habeeby, I need four pair of socks, Wallohi na ɓatar da safata ta kafa. I need some pair of new jilbabs too. Hmm, I think I’m in need of Niqab too.”
“I just bought you five new jilbabs last week. Did they fly away so soon. You said you’ve lost your socks right?. I think I saw a grey one in your bathroom last night.” Imrān chuckled.
“No, that’s for Juwayriyah. It’s not mine I have misplaced one out of the pair. Habeeby, should I continue with our discussion.” I asked my husband while staring at his face.
“Your children might be peeping, let’s meet in the za oza room”. Imran said as he planted a kiss on my cheeks.
“Hmmm, za oza. Māsha Allāh.” I replied cheerfully as we stood up and walked hands in hands to the room.
And he whispered – “Spouse Till Jannah – I love you for Allāh’s sake.”
And such was our love, more than Romeo and Juliet. But we love for the sake of Allāh Azzal Wal Jalal. And we laid the foundation by following the footsteps of Rasulullah and his wives.
Then Which of Allāh’s favour would I deny and Imrān Ibn Sulaiman, Abu Haneef wa Nusaybah Wa Juwayriyah was the best husband to Aaaeedah Idrees – Sulaiman.
Jazakummlahu Khayran for reading the piece and May Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta’ala accept it as an act of Ibāā’dah.
Written by Raihanah bint Abdul-hakeem