Taofeeqah




It's been 2 weeks I talked to my Aunt Tola and followed her advice. It wasn't easy finding my energy back, getting over my obsessional thoughts of Neemah and my ex, doing daily things like bathing, eating, brushing my teeth, finding and holding on to a purpose. Yeah, doing tasbih helped(at least I sleep peacefully for hours while doing it), but I took it a step further by performing ablution and praying solat five times daily, reciting the names of Allah and I try to memorize the Quranic verses which is very difficult for me because while growing up I never learned to recite the Qur'an. I only knew short surahs like Fathia, Ikhlas, and Al-Kawthar offhand and its boring repeating them every solah. When I'm not obsessing over the prepared speech I planned to say to my ex and Neemah whenever our path cross which could be 5 years, 10 years or maybe in hell, whenever I see them I will ask;
"Why were you so selfish?"

"When did you stop caring about my feelings?"

"When did you stop respecting me?"

Truth is, I think I will never get them off my mind, so I have accepted to live with it. If time truly heals all wound, maybe mine too would heal. Yeah, I was saying when I'm not obsessing over my ex and Neemah, I always listen to the adhan of a close by mosque.

The reciter voice is so beautiful that I found myself repeating the adhan after him. And once I'm done with solat, I mimick him smiling to myself in bed, sometimes while eating or doing anything. Listening to him became an obsession so much so that I went to the mosque one evening to see who the reciter was.

I got to the mosque, it was almost time for Maghreb, I entered the female side, performed ablution before I went to the male side watching out for the reciter. Was it an old man? What would he look like? His voice was full of life, filled with love for his creator, would he be a young man. What if he's just a boy? This thoughts were chasing themselves in my mind.

Then I saw him. He wore a black jalamiah with a leather slippers. He was tall, broad chested, chocolate. He was so fine. I couldn't see his face clearly but his physique was so beautiful and I watched openmouthed, drooling. I didn't know I spoke out loud my thought "He's so cute".

And I heard the laughter right behind me. The sound was so familiar I didn't want to believe it was the she devil I knew way back in secondary school. The one I thought was a friend. The one who spread rumors about me.

I turned around and it was Kawthar with that annoying smirk. If you think time change cruel people, then you thought wrong. Fine, time had added to her beauty but she is still one insensitive stupid cruel fool.
" Hello" I hear her say

I ignore her and continuing walking towards the female side. But she wouldn't let me, I hear her footsteps behind me.

"What do you want?" I ask

"From you? I saw you as I was about to enter the mosque. I wanted to see if it was really you in a mosque. It's shocking considering I know your history, you don't let a man be. You're always over them, that was why you got expelled. And to think you are about to start that with the Amir, really? Time hasn't change you. I have to warn the ladies about you" then she begins to laugh hysterically.

That. Is. It.

With my old instinct kicking in, I raise my hand and smack her twice on her face. The sound echoes throughout the mosque. The Amir turn and people came out of the ablution center towards us. She grabs her face while staring at me in complete silence.

I watch her steps towards me "You slut! How dare you! You....." she begins, and I raise my hand again for round three.

That's when the Amir stands between us and the other people grab me. I fight against their hold to get her because I really want to claw her eyes out. While trying to maneuver my restless body out of their hold, an elderly woman drags her towards the ablution center.

My anger climbs to a 100° recognizing the faces of the people holding me. Three out of them were my secondary school mates who knew my story.

"Are you OK?" The Amir asks

I nodded.

"Can we talk about this after we are done praying?" An elderly man said

I nodded again.

We all went back to the mosque, someone advise me to perform ablution again which I did. Slowly, I could feel the anger ebbed away. I did all my best to focus on the prayer. I slipped many times replaying the scenes in my mind but eventually I focused.

Afterwards, I felt stupid and awkward with the glances thrown at me. I wondered what my explanation would be. This is so messed up. I'm embarrassed to say the least. I thought about leaving the mosque and heading home but that will be so disrespectful, it will only confirm whatever they are thinking about me. I was still in thought when one of the sisters informed me that Imam Hussein is waiting for me outside. I got there, I saw the elderly man (I presumed him to be the Imam Hussein), the Amir, another sister and Kawthar who was crying like a newborn.

"As salaam alaykum sister" the Amir says

"Wa alaykum salaam" I answer

"Kawthar hasn't said much about whatever happened. But whatever it is please forgive each other. Bottling things up inside is very unhealthy for you psychologically and spiritually. Islam teaches us about forgiveness and it is a good quality we should hold onto. And fighting in the mosque isn't nice. Its bad. This is the house of Allah, please respect it and do not do it again" the Imam Hussein pleaded

I was about to apologize when a man came shouting at me "What gave you the right to slap my wife!"

This is so messed up.

Kawthar cried louder seeing her hero.

"Brother Jamaldeen, we are trying to settle this amicably. Please calm down" the Amir pleaded

"Who's she by the way? How can you come here and slap my own wife?"

"We heard your wife call her a slut" the silent sister said.

This is so messed up.

Kawthar does what she does best and chimes in "I'm really sorry I said that. I happened to know her and her reputation back in secondary school and so I caught her ogling and saying dirty words about how the Amir looks. That was during the adhan, can you imagine"

Because earning a death sentence for strangling the idiot is not an option, I pray a bomb goes off in this specific mosque killing us all.

I just turn around sucking in air into my empty lungs. I am not looking forward to a breakdown in front of this people. Especially not in the presence of Kawthar. But with my luck lately, it seems inevitable so I kept on moving.

"Are you fine?" The Amr asks

"Yes" I say while speed-walking towards home.

We reach the T-junction and I stop. I feel its best to have it out here rather than at home with me enduring my parents disapproval looks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks

I'm not sure what there is to talk about. Somehow it all pours out anyway.

"Kawthar spilled my beans anyway. Girl was young and abused in school but no one believed her. The story was turned against her. Girl reputation was ruined, she got expelled because she was always fighting her mean colleagues. Now, girl met the one person that started the rumour about her in school and she threatened to do that again. Girl was mad and slapped her. Did you get all of that?"

He is quiet for a moment and then he says "I'm sorry"

"Uh, please I do not need the sympathy. It was a long time ago" but the tears streaming down my face says otherwise.

"It's OK. Stop crying. It's just life trials. Trust me, this things only happens here on Earth" he says

"Thank you"

Probably feeling the awkwardness in the air, he changes the subject.

"My name is Musa Adefemi. People here call me the Amir" he says

"I thought Amir is your name" I say smiling

"It's not. Amir means a leader" he says grinning

"I actually came to the mosque to see the man who calls the adhan. Also, to ask for assistance with reading the Qur'an"

"Why do you want to see the man who cals for prayer?" Musa asks

"I was just curious, his voice is beautiful and it has a calming effects on me. I saw you and I said you are cute, that is the dirty thing Kawthar said I said about you".

At this point he is laughing like crazy.

I wondered what was funny.

"I think your first lesson in Islam will be to learn to lower your gaze. It's not wrong to admire the quality that another human possess but you have to becareful of envy and lust. Admiring a quality an opposite sex possess is good but you have to be cautious. Just say Ma sha Allah when you hear me call for prayer. Concerning learning Qur'an recitation, we do that in the masjid after asr except on Frifays. You're welcome to join. Please do not stay away from the masjid. I will talk to brother Jamaldeen and his wife.
As salaam alaykum"

"Wa alaykum salaam. Thank you very much" I give him the goodbye head nod and turn to trek to my house.

I'm totally fine, I'm a big girl. No sadness in my heart, I can handle this. So I don't understand why I got into my room crying like a five year old who lost her toy.

Finally I said out my truth, the truth no one believed. Not my father in law whom I had taken as my own father, my friend, my helper. My role model. But in the end, our relationship had meant nothing even though the autopsy revealed the cause of Nisa's death, my father in law had rejected the evidences before him, he ignored the Uztazz who spoke on my behalf and even the psychologist words fell on deaf ears. Even though I had sworn by Allah's name--------something I rarely do, Nisa's father still did not believe I am innocent. He made it cleared he wanted me hung for his daughter's death, he used all his powerful influence and he would have gotten his wish but Allah did not allowed that.I bore all the ills with nil complaints because of the guilt I carried. I had used my money to fund Nisa's unending pleasure. If only Allah could forgive me. And Nisa. I knew he contributed to her ruins. I should never have been too needy of my wife, too clingy to a false marriage which her father had initiated but Nisa resented greatly. There had been nothing left for me in Lagos as my pictures has been circulated on social media and newspaper clippings as the suspect in my wife's death. I sold my properties and moved out of the city.
I had never had much close friends but the few I made over the years deserted me.
I was tired of saying "I didn't kill her" to anyone who has much as looked at me or even dared to ask the question. Ironically, the only one who believed I was innocent was the judge who gave his judgement based on the evidences before him. By the time the court case was over, my image had been shredded before the public eyes. Everyone compared me to Maryam Sanda and most were hoping I would receive the same judgment.
Nay, there's nothing else for me in the world, there's nothing I cared for in the world. Nothing. I am content to wait for the appointed time he did leave the earth.
"Still, it's not the end of the world Musa. It shouldn't be the end. It was only a trial from your Lord, you shouldn't give up" Imam Hussein broke into my thought after we have both observed a long silence.
"I have not given up on life, I am here in my Lord's house worshipping him. Imam Hussein, I understand and appreciate your good wishes for me but what can be out there in the world that is greater than my devotion to Allah?" he demanded
"Nothing out there is greater but why should you deny yourself halal and permissible pleasure from your Lord? Musa, you are not an Angel. You can not become one by living in the mosque. Your status could be higher than that. Leave the Masjid young man, get halal source of income, get married and fulfil half of your deen, have children that will be the coolness of your eyes, give charity, continue to enjoin good and forbid evil. I can go on and on about the pleasures of the world you can enjoy Musa. Most importantly, have you experienced children being the coolness of your eyes? Your wife being the coolness of your eyes? Have you? By Allah, it is one of the most beautiful feelings you ought to experience at least once in your life. You deserve to experience it Musa, fulfil half of your seen young man" he paused seeing the effect of his words on him.
"Musa, you are doing good deeds, worshipping your Lord and praying to be in Jannah. Do you wish to be lonely in jannah? Tell me, how can jannah be jannah if your loved ones are not there?"
If you don't have a wife to say "Sweetheart, we made it to Jannah"
At this Imam Hussein chuckled while cleaning his misty eyes. He had always prayed to Allah for a good end for himself and his loved ones. He never ceased from thanking Allah for making him a believer.
I bowed my head and I could feel my eyes burning with tears. I had dreamt of my own family as an orphan, a wife and children that would love me wholly but I never got my wish. Except my Lord who loves me there was no one else who did. And I longed for that genuine love, that sense of belonging.
And really it would be nice to be in Jannah with loved ones.
I distinctly heard my phone call for prayer, I and imam Hussein rose to prepare for the Maghreb prayer.