HUSNA

Chapter19

"Whoever fears Allah,Allah will find a way out for him (from every difficulty) and He will provide for him from sources that he could never have imagined." Quran 65:2-3

***************

As the weeks passed in a blur, Husna found herself slowly warming up to Hameed.

She still didn't answer all his calls....sometimes out of pride, sometimes out of mischief....but she had begun to see him as a brother, just as he'd once pleaded. His calm, teasing voice had become oddly familiar, a small comfort she would never admit aloud.

Ramadan had begun the previous week, but she  had fallen ill.

She could barely keep food down, let alone fast. Her mother often sat by her bedside, whispering du'as while fanning her gently through the long hot afternoons.

It had been a month since their father last visited, and the absence pressed on them like a shadow. The family was struggling ...barely surviving on Abdulkarim's small earnings from his menial job and the little profit from their hibiscus drink sales.
With Faiza away for her cousin's wedding in Kano, their situation only worsened. There were days when they had nothing for sahur except soaked garri, and iftar was often rice and beans shared among them.

Husna's condition grew weaker. The little medicine they could afford seemed to do nothing. After Maghrib one evening, she began to shiver uncontrollably. Her lips trembled, her hands were cold, and her mother's heart sank.

"Ya Allah, protect my child," her mother whispered as she tried to wrap her  in a blanket. For over two hours, Husna struggled, her body shaking, until finally she went limp ...unconscious.

Panic filled the small compound. Her mother banged on the neighbours' doors, pleading for help.

"Please, just small money! My daughter is dying!" she cried, but each face she met offered only pity and silence.

Finally, with the help of a kind neighbor, they rushed Husna to the nearby hospital, praying desperately for Allah's mercy.

Across the sea in Cyprus, Hameed sat up abruptly from sleep. His heart felt heavy, restless.

He had been trying to reach Husna since the previous night, but her phone was switched off ...something she had never done before.

He tried again. Still nothing.

Unease tightened his chest. He immediately called Faiza.

"Assalamu alaikum, Yaya Hameed! Good evening," she greeted cheerfully.

"Wa'alaikumus salam. Good morning here," he said, voice strained. "Faiza, I've been calling your friend since yesterday...her phone's off. Is everything okay?"

Faiza's tone shifted. "Wallahi, I don't know. I'm not even in Kaduna, but let me call her."

She tried. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing.
Finally, she dialed Husna's mother's number.

When she returned to Hameed's call, her voice was softer. "Yaya... Husna's been sick. But Alhamdulillah, she's recovering now. Should I send you her mother's number?"