BetaThings and Mac, I am doing this at your behest but I am not much of a writer. I can usually articulate my thoughts better when I talk . I am going set a background so you can get an idea of my personality and hopeful the 'insight' would make better sense.




I think everybody has a role model and most people when asked would often mention Jesus, Prophet Muhammed or some other 'saintly' figure, but I have always been different in that regard. My role models are my hubby, my late grandfather, my mother and then my dad. My reasons why these people remain so are fairly simple and straight-forward.

I admire my hubby because he is the most tolerable human being and I know and one of the few people I have ever met who always admit his wrongs. He's so balanced that I simply don't understand how he can be so.

My mother because she genuinely is one of the kindest people I have ever known, I know people say nice things about their parents all the time but this is different. My mother is kind because she believes it is the right thing to do, I didn't understand it as child but I do now. She however, also has a temper, I take after her in this regard. I have often called my mother a raging storm as joke . You don't want to be in its way when it comes and you don't ask for it either.

My granddad of blessed memory was a community elder, as a child when we visit, we often found him settling disputes and sometimes the 'Oba' would send for him when he felt he needed his counsel. He however resisted every opportunity to be honoured and despite his wealth (he was no Abiola o, but was quite well off compared to his peers and people around him) lived a fairly simple and happy life. I didn't even know he was wealthy until I was well into adulthood.

My dad takes after his father in some ways but he didn't inherit all of his simplicity . What I adore and admire the most about my dad is how he can make you do things without forcing his way on you. He believed very much in negotiation and even as children always negotiated with us. It's not a trait typical of fathers, especially Nigerian fathers.

So, moving along swiftly. Both my parents were raised as muslims, my mum was always a half-arsed one though . She believes all paths lead to salvation, just choose which ever you feel comfortable with. My dad however as was my granddad were always devout, so, I was raised in a fairly devout and balanced Islamic home. Understand what I mean by balance though, we said our prayers, we fasted in Ramadhan, my dad often did Sadaqah and Zakah in our presence. We went to Madrassah and we were encouraged to take as serious as we took 'Western Education' but my dad liked Baba legba's music as all Aworis do with the occasional Sunny and Obey.

My oldest brother however brought a different Islam home when he 'joined' the Ahlus-Sunnah folks in the 80s at OAU. He took it upon himself to encourage all of his younger siblings. My oldest sister from a young age however just didn't care much for Islam to dad's chagrin and mum's indifference.

My brother's Islam was the 'Alakata kiti' type even by my dad and grand-dad standards and both were/are considered devout by their peers.But my brother was very successful in stoking and maintaining the interest of all of us his younger siblings. My dad didn't like it very much but I think he also thought it could very well have been worse, in his words ' I should be thankful that they are devoted to the faith and not miscreants'.

Any hoo, by the time I was in secondary school, I lived and breathed Islam. I knew and had learnt about the faith more than most of my peers and most people would in their lifetime. Don't get me wrong, I was not a perfect but Islam helped with the usual teenage angst even though I had my own struggles like most girls my age. I was sent to single sex secondary school and in retrospect, this was one place where Islam did wonders for my life as I had a pretty good teenage years despite the pressures that abounded around me. Islam helped to keep me in check and I have to give credit to my parents here too because they were people who lived by their words, so saying something and doing the opposite was alien to me, I didn't even know people could do that until I was an adult.

Xmas and Easter holidays were spent either at one 'IVC' or 'HDC' camp to help in keeping us our from the temptations of 'bidiah' and 'shirk' that are prevalent during such holidays.


To be contiuned.............

My oldest brother however brought a different Islam home when he 'joined' the Ahlus-Sunnah folks in the 80s at OAU. He took it upon himself to encourage all of his younger siblings. My oldest sister from a young age however just didn't care much for Islam to dad's chagrin and mum's indifference.

My brother's Islam was the 'Alakata kiti' type even by my dad and grand-dad standards and both were/are considered devout by their peers.But my brother was very successful in stoking and maintaining the interest of all of us his younger siblings. My dad didn't like it very much but I think he also thought it could very well have been worse, in his words ' I should be thankful that they are devoted to the faith and not miscreants'.

I'm also a Made-in-OAU, and I must say the school's MSSN contributed a great deal to my understanding of Islam (May Allah bless those MSSN brothers). My ahlus-sunnah bent (never mind my funkiness ) is derived from OAU too, and of course, personal research later consolidated why my ahlus-sunnah-ism.

It was strange to me when I entered the school as a jambite and I wondered why the Islam here was different from the one I used to know at home. My later research would show it's due to gap in knowledge nd understanding. I am still an ahlus sunnah by creed (again , never mind my funkiness )

Fire on with your story, I'm enjoying. I know one day, you will become Ganiyah again

^Ameen InshAllah!

*carries praying mat and tesbih to the thread*

BTW, you r a good story teller sis naijababe, very interesting, fire on...

tbaba1234:

As for naijababe, only Allah guides.

I was kidding about Naijababe o. I no want trouble. I tend to pick on her way too much. I will work on that.

But I am also enjoying her write-up.

Awesome dad you've got, NB.

Jarus:

I'm also a Made-in-OAU, and I must say the school's MSSN contributed a great deal to my understanding of Islam (May Allah bless those MSSN brothers). My ahlus-sunnah bent (never mind my funkiness ) is derived from OAU too, and of course, personal research later consolidated why my ahlus-sunnah-ism.

It was strange to me when I entered the school as a jambite and I wondered why the Islam here was different from the one I used to know at home. My later research would show it's due to gap in knowledge nd understanding. I am still an ahlus sunnah by creed (again , never mind my funkiness )

Fire on with your story, I'm enjoying. I know one day, you will become Ganiyah again

Bros. I would love to read your story too. But the only story we should consider on this thread is that of Naijababe. Make una no break her flow abeg.

Thank you so very much my dear brother.

@Naijababe, carry on, you have me spell-bound with your story already.

isale_gan2:

I was kidding about Naijababe o. I no want trouble. I tend to pick on her way too much. I will work on that.

But I am also enjoying her write-up.

Awesome dad you've got, NB.

Isale, you are doing some 'ojoro' here. I saw your first post. Don't you worry, someday you will get to meet him if you want to


Lol, Jarus. I am still very much Ganiyah. My in-laws have given up on trying to get me to change/drop my muslim. I love my name and I think my parents chose it wisely. It is still my first name on all my official documents.

naijababe:

Isale, you are doing some 'ojoro' here. I saw your first post. Don't you worry, someday you will get to meet him if you want to


Lol, Jarus. I am still very much Ganiyah. My in-laws have given up on trying to get me to change/drop my muslim. I love my name and I think my parents chose it wisely. It is still my first name on all my official documents.

Interesting

My mum and dad had wanted to relocate to the UK in 1990 but my dad changed his mind at the last minute citing the need to stay in Nigeria because of his aged parents (my dad is the only surviving child of his patents out of 16). My oldest sister got married in 1992, as I was close to finishing Secondary school, I spent my holidays with her and her new hubby that year and went to live with her full-time when I finished in 1993.

The political imbroglio of that period resulted in no university admissions that year, so I was stuck at home but it was not too bad . My peers were stuck at home too, we had so much fun, the duo of IBB and Abacha showed us plenty pepper but as teenagers, we hung out with ourselves and had plenty fun doing so. I grew in leaps and bounds in my faith and started to attend Unilag/Luth's Usra on Thursdays. By this time, my sister was only waiting to be out from under the wings of my dad to declare full freedom from Islam. She wasn't spirikoko or anything like that but she just identified herself as a Xtian, her hubby, raised as an Anglican was pretty lukewarm in his faith too back then.

By 1994, I was a full Hijabite, folks used to call us ninja back then when we walked on the streets , two of my best friends also hijabites and I would wave when people shouted ninja when we pass. My sister or her hubby didn't hinder me in anyway in my faith but my brother-in-law had one angst. I'd cover up their pictures whenever I observed my Ishai prayers late in their living room and almost always forget to remove the coverings. So, he'd wake up to get ready for work in the morning to find pictures of his wife and son covered up in a towel and it used to annoy him. I never meant to annoy him but I always forgot .

When Abacha took over in 1994, my mum felt that I was wasting away in Nigeria and was better off joining her in the UK, but my dad and siblings except for oldest sister thought it was a bad idea. I was pretty disappointed that people thought I'd abandon Islam simply because I was going to live in a white man's land and I spent all my time trying to convince everyone that the contrary was true. I was very confident and secure in my faith and I thought that was obvious.

My biggest struggle at this stage of my life was music and novels. I read many secular works simply for the pleasure that I derived from them and could not master myself in terms of music. Music moved me so much, I tried but was largely unsuccessful at giving it all up completely. I hung out with some boys in my neighbourhood with whom I became very good friends, all of them are now 'Ahlus-sunnah' now .

My right of abode visa was finally issued in April 1995 and I left the shores of sunny Las gidi in June for the UK . To prove every body wrong that I was not going to lose my faith, I asked one of my special friends that I met at Unilag Usra to help me get addresses of Islamic Centres in the UK, the UK might be a faithless white man's land but we all knew there were muslims in the UK nau .
My friend above lived at Eric Moore in Surulere at the time and I loved visiting her, she was everything I wanted to be, clever, witty, smart and very deeply spiritual, it was fair to say I looked up to her immensely and she reciprocated by taking me under her wings (wish I knew where she is now). She had taught my class Current Affairs at an 'HDC' program and I made quite an impression on her .

Whenever I visited her on Fridays, we'd say our Jumaah prayers at M.A.N (Muslim Association of Nigeria)Centre Mosque, she was the one that told me MAN had a branch in the UK at Old Kent Road. I got a few other addresses as well, Regents Park Mosque, Whitechapel Mosque, Brixton Mosque and some Islamic centres/libraries at Shepherd's Bush and Cricklewood. I had read a number of books that my brother and some other respected brothers/sisters recommended like Sayyid Qutb's Milestone(a popular recommendation back then), one book by Al-Ghazali with a red cover that I can't recall the title now, another one by Yusuff Qaradawi. There was in particular with a female author written on the Muslim Brotherhood (Ikhwan-ul- Muminoon) that moved me so much and I won't ever forget how many times I cried when I read Riyadh-us-Saliheen for the the first time. I told my friends and all those that cared to listen that I loved Allah and His prophet so much that even if there was no promise of al-Janna or Jahanam, I'd still be a muslim because being a muslim gave me so much joy and satisfaction. It wasn't a lie, it was truly how I felt at the time.

When I arrived in the UK, I got the greatest shock of my life, my mum had become the Iya Ajo of a C/S church , we knew she had converted but didn't know she in that deep . To add insult to injury, none of the Islamic Centres lived up to my bidding, they were very different from what I was used to in Nigeria, for one, the brothers never talked to the sisters; we did in Nigeria but always averted our gaze but here it was a complete no-no . I met some Indian and Pakistan muslims sisters but it became obvious very quickly that their hijabs were a cultural adornment as opposed to a spiritual one .
MAN Centre lived up to its bidding though, although the members were mostly adults; they had a Madrassah, a functional bookshop and was led by Prof. Dawud Noibi, a man of remarkable knowledge and excellent leadership, (God'd peace be with always ) I always found him profound in his lectures as he offered new perspectives that my 'Ahlus-sunnah' brethren in Lagos didn't. At the time he was 55, so I guess he had a good amount of wisdom us young folks didn't have .

MAN Centre became my mosque, I attended every Sunday even though my mum and I lived a good two hours away at Ladbroke Grove. During ramadhan, I'd go and say may Tarawih prayers and join in the eid celebrations.

I was doing my A-levels at the time, I had a dream to be a gynaecologist. Three of my friends and I had formed a pact to study medicine and establish the first Islamic hospital in Nigeria where our brothers and sisters could truly feel comfortable. We called our pact the 'The Dream'.



Sleepy, I'll continue tomorrow

^You write so well and your attention to detail is quite impressive. Your immense consumption of literature is truly evident. I am not lying when I say I am a fan of your writing style, I am a lover of literature as well.

Please, keep your story coming tomorrow Insha Allah.

SubhanAllah, your story reminds me of some ayat and a similar story. ..

I'd share when you are done, in sha Allah. Or i'd just write a thread.

You are a decent writer.

tbaba1234: SubhanAllah, your story reminds me of some ayat and a similar story. ..

I'd share when you are done, in sha Allah. Or i'd just write a thread.

You are a decent writer.

@bolded, understatement. She is really good. I feel like I am travelling with her through her journey.

Coming into this very late
But hanging onto every word of this beautifully-crafted story
Impressive!
Thanks for the efforts and attention

*sits down on mat beside my fellow brothers waiting for the next Naijababe post*

Naijababe is a very good writer no doubt, I reaized that from her NL family reality stuff write-ups & some of her other posts as well.

The story so far contains some VERY IMPORTANT lessons to be learnt especially by we brothers who are yet to be or already husbands and fathers. Here we have seen gthe importance of good character as well as religion and the effect it can have on our kids...and even grandkids and all that is in between from family members to neighbours and evn someone who just hears about you and the kind of life you live!

I've always been fascinated with knowing why fairly or quite devout musims leave the religion and in most cases I've listened to / read about so far, while those reason(s) may seem to sound convincing or sufficient, on closer look, by going back to the Qur'an & hadeeth, and even studying our very own environment i.e. the present world around us, those reasons that made them to leave Islam shoud actually have made those people to be more fulfiled with Islam and immerse themselves even more into the religion. Thankfully, some converts realise this later as well and find their way back to Islam (especially when they realise that the salvation they sought elsewhere was either non-existent or just a facade) Some reasons are just downright silly though even to an objective non-muslim.

However, I try not to judge the people, just as I won't judge Naijababe whatever her reasons may turn out to be coz while those who are outside Islam have a chance to come in due to Allah's favour, we that are in the religion are the ones who really need to be careful not to stray from the path. It's no wonder that both home and abroad, many muslims who came to know Islam later in life are usually better than many who were born into it.

Naijababe, may Allah guide you back to Islam and somehow, right from one of your posts I read months ago in which I got to know you were once a muslim, I've had this feeling that "awww....this one is still coming back" ....& this thread (even before your last 2 long posts) has fuelled my belief. Please do not try to prove me wrong

I didnt intend for this to be a long post o so make I shut up now and wait for the next post

Morning boys and girls (if any will be joining us apart from Isale). Thanks for the comments, I guess it is kinda interesting because it is a true story.

@ mac, I owe to my brother my love of literature. He once took me to Henry Carr Library at Oniwaya Rd Agege (I hope they it has not become a church ) when I was in primary school. The children's section was full of all those European fairy tales which I devoured to no end. Been hooked on books ever since.

@ Find out! Didn't know you followed the reality show, you have Tgirl to thank for that, she kinda forced my hand

Y'all should continue praying jare, my father would die a very a happy man if I 'revert' . Never say never, I have grown so much to know that with humans, nothing is absolute and everything is possible

My mother is a firm believer in hard work, her mantra to us when we were growing up was 'Atelewo eni kii tan ni je' & 'Owo igbe kii run'. It therefore was no surprise that within a two weeks of my arrival I got a job working at the Grosvenor Hotel at Victoria as a kitchen assistant. I didn't mind, day time TV sucked big time and we didn't have cable. My sister's brother-in-law had arranged the job for me when my mum mentioned to him that I needed to keep busy before college started in Sept.

On my first day, I was surprised when my duties were outlined to me. These 'Oyinbo' were clearly mugus o , all I was required to do was show up at 10am till 2pm Mondays- Friday and help in the staff canteen. My duties were to hang around the kitchen and help the chef until the staff came down for lunch at noon. I'd then clean the used crockery with a dishwasher and sweep the canteen. I was paid a whopping £60 per week , I was delirious with joy when I worked out the naira equivalent .

My mum could not help teasing me when I wouldn't stop talking about my big fat paycheck, she kept saying we were all used to be 'being used like omi ojo' . I didn't care one jot, I loved the job, the chef a beautiful Ghananian lady made me feel at ease and acted like an older sister to me. Even though it was my job to wash the pots and pans, she always felt it was too much work and always did that .

One thing that I love about white people is that they don't act arrogant about anything they are ignorant of it. They are either indifferent or curious. The big kahuna (the big boss) Mr Smith when interviewing me asked me why I covered my head with a towel ? I explained my faith and the need for a muslim woman to wear a hijab to him and that was that. Islam was hardly in the news but even at that I was never made uncomfortable about my faith and neither got any supercilious comments like 'you are too pretty to be a muslim', 'how can a muslim speak English well like you do? or a smart girl like you is a muslim? etc. . I got none of that here and this was in 1995, when the average Brit knew nothing about Islam and John Major was PM. The society was still by and large very conservative to say the least. It really used to annoy me but in Oyibo land, no one cared, bliss

We had to leave Ladbroke Grove because the woman who rented the the flat that my mum & I shared had claimed some benefit she was not entitled to and the police had been hot on her trail. They had come to the flat in our absence, searched everywhere and found a letter confirming my appointment and contacted Mr Smith telling him that my papers were fake without any background checks to confirm that the opposite was true . I had showed up at work the next morning only to be fired by Mr Smith after only 4 weeks . This was my first hand experience of 'racist' Britain

We had family friends all over London and had to find a place to squat until a more permanent arrangement could be made. My mum decided to stay with a friend who was also an Iya Ijo of another C/S church while I chose a female family friend's place; she had two children in my age bracket. Her eldest, SS was the same age as me, was studying for his 'A'-Levels at South Thames College in Putney, while her daughter BS, who was two years younger arrived a month after me. They lived at Vauxhall in South London, their male cousin DD who's the same age as BS arrived a month later and the trio of us started to scout for a college immediately together, we chose South Thames too but SS transferred to Lambeth College as soon as our admission was officially confirmed .

My mum eventually found a place at Wandworth Road not too far from 'us' and I stayed in touch by telephone and usually the three of us would visit her over the weekend. My mum held a number of short hours jobs as was the norm for people her age who were not nurses. In the early 90s, you had to be in the medical line to have any semblance of a career if you relocated. Every one else pretty much just hustled

My mum had spoken to one of her bosses at a cleaning company where she worked, the company had just won a cleaning contract at Holborn College and were in urgent need of staff; they were thus very happy to employ 4 'Britico' kids who had no 'paper' issues. We worked from 6am to 8am M-F and I used to say my Subhi prayers at the college. We were also attending a skills centre called Brixton I-TEC where we learned IT skills and were given £45 per week allowance to cover transport and lunch. It was 15mins walk from where we lived so it was jolly good as we were not spending any money on transport. The place was populated by 'Jamaican' kids our age but they were scary kids I had just come from Mushin and was no sissy but those kids were nothing like our area boys, I later found out they were largely just noisy and rebelled against authority and nothing more. Some of the girls talked to DD because he's rather good looking and they liked him, BS & I were ignored most of the time but we didn't mind, we were each other's company plus we didn't understand them anyway

SS & BS had a half brother that also lived with us, so there were 5 of us in the 4 bed flat at music, we had so much fun together, the boys were rap heads and music buffs. Giving up music was impossible here, so I just pretty much gave up, rap was not really my thing but I loved Tupac for the versatility of his lyrics, this was especially fuelled by DD's love for Mr Shakur. He loved Tupac so much that he started to buy his tapes. I won't ever forget the first time I listened to Brenda's got a baby, it was the defining moment, I simply fell in love with Tupac and enjoyed his music as much as DD did. I continued to go to the mosque at Old kent Rd, it was nearer to me by then as it took me only 45mins instead intead of 2hrs as was the case when we lived at West London. SS was an introvert to the core, so DD became quite close to us girls, both of them often followed me to the mosque even though they were Xtians. Later, they all started going to mum's church and I visited occassionally too especially when it was 'ikore' time. I had no problem doing such unlike my brother who was just so anti-Christianity. My father didn't like that much as the only people he had close to siblings were his cousins who were all Christians.

I almost lost this post. I will continue in my next post.

naijababe: Morning boys and girls (if any will be joining us apart from Isale). Thanks for the comments, I guess it is kinda interesting because it is a true story.

@ mac, I owe to my brother my love of literature. He once took me to Henry Carr Library at Oniwaya Rd Agege (I hope they it has not become a church ) when I was in primary school. The children's section was full of all those European fairy tales which I devoured to no end. Been hooked on books ever since.

@ Find out! Didn't know you followed the reality show, you have Tgirl to thank for that, she kinda forced my hand

Y'all should continue praying jare, my father would die a very a happy man if I 'revert' . Never say never, I have grown so much to know that with humans, nothing is absolute and everything is possible

Lol. I do a lot of silent followership of threads and in a few cases, people on NL. Make i read your next post ma

Two weeks before we were due to start college in Sept. Brixton I-TEC got axed by the council, the Conservatives were still on their spending cuts spree . Anyone who wanted to continue the training had to go to some place at Holborn, those doltish councils , that place kept kids out of trouble and off the streets and they learned useful skills too.

By the time we started college in Sept. we had only our cleaning jobs which paid minimum wage, £30 per week of which £15 went towards transport . The little that was left was for lunch at school and our basic needs. The person who came up with the expression 'Ignorance is bliss' is a dolt because there's nothing blissful about ignorance. It never occurred to us that we could get better part-time jobs so we continued with our cleaning 'gburu' . I remained my good self, what I lacked in fellowship in the absence of my Ummah I made up with books and used the mosque as best as I could. The mosque had a good bookshop and a library, so borrowed a lot and bought when I could. Because BS was a babe, dressed and acted like the other teenagers in college she made friends quickly and some of her friends became my friends too. DD was in a different class and made friends of his own one. It was from those friends that we found out we could get jobs at Macdonald's, Sainburys, Tesco or with any of the retailers for that matter. I was much better at writing at the time so I was the one that filled out our application forms. BS was the one to get the first break, it was for a temporary position at a MacDonald's restaurant at Wandsworth Town not far from our college. It was at this time that I realised that my Hijab was a problem, I'd fill out an application form, get called for an interview only to get what we started calling 'regret letter' .

The helplessness of my situation began to take its toll, I didn't want to ask my mother for money as I felt she was working too hard already and I wanted to be able send money home as well. After 18 months, I took off my hijab and got the next job I interviewed for at Sainbury's South Kensington . There was nothing else to convince me otherwise that my hijab was the hindrance all this time.

I wrote to my mentor (the Muslim sister I met at HDC), mentioning my agony and confessed that I no longer wore Hijab because there was no place for it. It was a slippery slope . Without even realising it, I began to wear the kind of clothes BS wore and even relaxed my hair for the first time. Frankly speaking, I still do not know how I got to that point to this day. I just know that one day I went to visit a friend's older sister who also happened to live at Old kent Rd, I had to return a book to someone at the mosque and took it with me. It was on a Sunday afternoon and a lecture was going on, when I entered, one of the women who had taken a shine to me on account of how serious I was about Islam chastised me for my clothes. I told her I had not planned on coming to the mosque but she said, 'don't you realise you are not meant to be wearing this kind of outfit in the first place'. It was my first light bulb moment since turning rogue and I didn't like how I felt.

To add to my distress, one of DD's friends became good friends with me, I had always been comfortable around boys despite being a muslimah. It never bothered me and I never really thought anything was wrong with it although I knew that my faith frowned at it. Oyewole was younger than DD which made him 3yrs my junior, we became good friends and before I could say 'Jack Robinson' started to develop feeling for him, this was a big problem because I had a 'brother' in Nigeria with whom I had made elaborate plans. To say I was confused was an understatement.

Wole also worked at the Sainburys in South Kensington and lived 10 mins away from me at Stockwell. We'd go home together after work and just gist the entire way. One night, he decided to get down at my stop and walk me home. I talked to him about Islam a lot and he had the usual naija hang up about it but he was never disrespectful. That night he kissed me and I responded, I not only liked how he made me feel but I wanted it to last forever. I was to be wracked by guilt beyond belief afterwards . My guilt had driven me to confess to DD who told me that Wole had told him about our kiss and that he'd been looking at me like a big fat hypocrite for the last 2days. Consigning Wole to the dustbin emotionally was pretty easy because I felt really betrayed and there was something about the whole experience that just made me turn inwards and to my faith. I made the decision that it was going to be no one but 'Lexy' my naija love interest.

The following Monday, I went to college and work in my Hijab, by this time, Mr Blair was in power and was gradually begining to shape public opinion from very conservative to centre left policies. The personnel manager asked me what the hijab was about and I explained myself and went about my job. The following weekend, an English woman much older than I was married to muslim man was also wearing a hijab with her uniform. No one could stop us and it was now officially illegal to discriminate against people like us.

It was my second chance not to be completely lost, I still listened to music but became even more determined to grow spiritually, so I bought more books and went back to attending the mosque regularly. I rebuffed all other male overtures and there were plenty, saving all my love for 'Lexy'. I had found myself again and was not about take any stupid chance with my second chance or so I thought.

My friends who were part of my pact of 'the Dream' were all now in University, two of them were already studying medicine and the third one was studying microbiology, but I was beginning to find out that my strengths were really in English and mathematics. Medicine was beginning to look like a long shot.



To be continued............

*facepalm
Oh no!

^ you can say that again.

I just don't know what to say, this story is getting to me...

I see a stuggle, to be on the path, its genuine, from your write, i can feel it, and i suspect that you then is still inside of you now, what then happened?!
I guess I'll never know until you finish, please continue...

tbaba1234: *facepalm
Oh no!

I can feel what she was feeling. Can't you and Sino feel it?

sino: ^ you can say that again.

I just don't know what to say, this story is getting to me...

I see a stuggle, to be on the path, its genuine, from your write, i can feel it, and i suspect that you then is still inside of you now, what then happened?!
I guess I'll never know until you finish, please continue...

Let us not disturb the lady with too many questions. Let her continue the story, jot down your questions abeg.

@Naijababe, carry on. Your story is turning out to be a classic already.

I dont have anything to say yet... Just to register my presence

naijababe:

Isale, you are doing some 'ojoro' here. I saw your first post. Don't you worry, someday you will get to meet him if you want to

You know me. Two steps forward, one step back.

Hmmm. I am reading. I know a few things. . .but so much more I didn't know. It's kinda hard for me to read so much personal stuff about someone I know - especially about tough times.

One thing I want to say - not sure how much you already know or had figured out - we weren't raised as "religiously" as you. For example, we never had to wake up and do Salat. lol. We did Ramadan, and didn't even have to wake up at dawn to eat out food. . . we were never hijabis. . .my dad wasn't really big on "too much religion.". . . just be a good person and live a scrupulously ethical and moral life with integrity, and know from whom you came. lol.

So, I guess we never had anything to rebel against. My dad was strict, don't get me wrong. Stiflingly so, but being a very conservative and serious person from childhood, it didn't bother me. But all in all, we didn't feel any strain from being Muslims. (I liked being a Muslim and still do - whether I will be considered one by someone else I could care less.) There's so much I could say, but I think you get my drift.

I will tell you that despite my ribbing you, I have no issues with your choice and am not of the mentality that you must be a Muslim. This is probably scandalous but, I don't have a problem with anyone's religion or lack thereof. I don't even have a problem with atheists. I've met some decent people who did not believe in God (which I know you never claimed to be) and am sure we've all met too many horrible and hypocritical "saved" persons and self-proclaimed people "of god." So, I'll take a good person, whatever they may be.

I will try to read the rest.

maclatunji:

I can feel what she was feeling. Can't you and Sino feel it?

I have been there, it is a slippery slope. . Infact, I can say what is going to happen next in a general sense. I can even show you the ayat, the tricks of shaytan are still the same.

This story might make me cry. I am getting an avalanche of ayat as I read through. The words of Allah are true.

The writer is quite good.

Silly digression.

tbaba1234: @naijababe

If you like, I could give a summary of the rest of the story purely from a quranic perspective, general but I suspect fairly accurate. This is just too classic.

It might spoil the entertainment value for some because they will know what happened.

I could send to your email or I could just type it here. you tell me the percentage accuracy.

Save your intellectual exercises until after she finishes her story. No need to be so hyperactive now. I don't like your digression at all.

^^^^

I am surprised. It is really so unlike Tbaba!

naijababe: .

To be continued............

Good morning.
Thanks indeed for this very sincere and tedious (although your flowing delivery does not make it look so) effort.

naijababe: Morning boys and girls (if any will be joining us apart from Isale).
Y'all should continue praying jare, my father would die a very a happy man if I 'revert' . Never say never, I have grown so much to know that with humans, nothing is absolute and everything is possible

I am praying and I have released Mac from his debt.
I sincerely pray to Allah that the good old man die with the greatest wishes of his life fulfilled and may he eventually find reward in Al Jannah firdous and be reunited with all his family - children, yes, and his wife

May Allah make that happen to all of us

maclatunji:

Save your intellectual exercises until after she finishes her story. No need to be so hyperactive now. I don't like your digression at all.

You are very correct

I got a little too excited putting two n two. . I apologize... Enough of my digressions. Thanks for the heads up. Sabr, tbaba sabr.

Please ignore me story teller. .

BetaThings: ^^^^

I am surprised. It is really so unlike Tbaba!

You haven't been to the cinema with tbaba, always trying to ruin a good story.

tbaba1234:

You are very correct

I got a little too excited putting two n two. . I apologize... Enough of my digressions. Thanks for the heads up. Sabr, tbaba sabr.

Please ignore me story teller. .

I was already preparing my European upper cut and German suplex for you. #LOL

Naijababe, wey you nah. I rushed here to read continuation.