Trust You [TRUE STORY]

Prologue

Prologue: Shattered contentment

As a kid, I could've never imagined the thought of getting married.

Being raised in a Sudanese household was just like living in an average African raised home. My mother would always bring up the subject of "marriage" starting from when I was nine. Being humanly immature, I'd cringe and never let myself imagine 'marriage'. For me, it just never seemed right.  It just never seemed okay to think about marriage at such a young age. I thought school was a bigger focus.

But as I grew, my mother would continue the marriage teasing. But this time, a little more than she used to. She would link 'marriage' to anything she can link it with. For example if I don't do the dishes, 'Emaan if I can't handle you, neither will your husband' or if I disrespect her 'Emaan I feel for your husband'

My mother would never end it with these remarks. Actually, it would be so frequent, that one day I actually thought about marriage. I actually thought about my future and I actually did start thinking about how I'd live with my husband. Being Muslim, my mother would always add 'The prophet (s.a.w) said that one who doesn't get married is not part of his ummah" it was in a hadith. Ever since then, I started observing the kids in my highschool and their dating life. I started to watch the married couples at the parks. I started to view these match makers.

I was going insane.

I'd test myself as well. I'd always say 'What kind of man would want a lazy soul like yours?'. I would never get up to do the dishes or clean the house. It was usually something my older sisters would do. I was left with nothing but my cell phone all day, playing with it and doing absolutely nothing. That was pretty much how my weekends were in my highschool years. When I finally graduated high school and started my university. 

I wasn't really a bad student. I was an average one by the time I started uni. Where I live, in London, they say it's hard for Muslims to get accepted in the ultimate universities. The amazing ones that is. Atleast it's what my mother tells me all the time. The fact that I'm Muslim, doesn't let me get accepted into huge universities.

Now, being 21 years old, I understand my mother's point of view. She's sick of having an adult living in her house like she's still the child. It's been two years since my last year of being a teenager. While both of my older sisters are married, I  sat down like a couch potato, unable to do anything correctly.

Until one day, there were news.

My mother's bestfriend, Layla Ibrahim would always come over to our house on weekends. It was just me, my mother and my father in this house (after both of my sisters moved in with their men). They would talk for hours which I sometimes liked because I would have time to myself without anyone telling me what to do. So that soon became a routine. Layla would come, talk with my mother and then leave. Every Saturday and every Sunday. 

That same day, while sitting on the bed and listening to Quran tracks, I felt a little bit thirsty for water and since my room filter was full, I decided to get some from the tap downstairs, where my mother, and Layla sat. I put down my earphones and headed downstairs. Opening, the dishwasher, I took a glass cup and turned on the tap, the voice of my mother and Layla blending into the sound of the open water.

They were talking in Arabic, a language they can both understand. I closed the tap and slowly drank the water, reading bismillah and Alhamdulilah after I finished. I was quite a religious child growing up. My mother would put me in several Islamic classes as a kid.

I accidentally over heard their conversation while I put the glass cup back in the dishwasher.

"It's about time she gets up and does something.  Maybe your son is able to teach her how to become active"

"Are you kidding? Yassef doesn't do much at home for me either. He's also a couch potato wallahi" Layla retorted, "My son isn't really the lady type either. He doesn't talk much with others but his friends"

"Emaan needs him" my mother added, "And Yassef needs Emaan. She needs to know that her marriage years has finally hit her"

"I'll bring him next week," said Layla, "And then they can talk and get to know each other"

"They'll get married" my mother said.

And at the moment, I had a thousand different thoughts and questions rummaging through my mind. It was everywhere, clowding my memory.  I couldn't get my mind off of it at the moment because as I ran up the stairs and laid in my bed, I asked myself some questions.

Who the heck is Yassef? Have I met or seen this guy? When was my mother going to tell me? When we get married, can I keep my turban on since I can't show my hair at any cost? If I do get married to him, will he treat me right? Does he like couch potatoes?

Would he like me? Would I like him?

....

Is he good looking?

I paused my face deep into my pillow and screamed. And just as I did so, my mother came in my room and smiled with her teeth, "Good morrow, my daughter"

Layla must have left. And just like that, I smiled at my mother back, "Good morrow"

She held her chin high while crooking her head to the side. Seeing my mother smile was something new for sure. She doesn't smile as Much. She always has a serious stern look that can scare anyone away. Unlike me, my mother was raised in Sudan.  It's why she has the mentality she has. Sometimes it wasn't even morning when my mom would come over to greet me. It's like it's morning for her, because she hasn't seen me the entire day.

Is this marriage thing what my mother and Layla have been talking about for the past month? And now is when they want to make things happen?

"How are you?" She approached my bed, still holding the ongoing smile, "Good?"

"Yes" I replied bluntly. Does she know that I was down there at the same time as they spoke about that nightmare? "And you mother?"

"I'm perfect, alhamdulilah"

Yeah I know, "You need anything?"

"No. I just wanted to greet my beautiful daughter" She kept that smile devilishly and left the room, leaving me there suspicious and confused.

And that was how that day went. How the news of marriage crossed to me faster than lightning. Faster than I knew things would happen. That's how's life hit me with a fire truck.

I'm married now. Literally been an entire week before I move in with him.

That was just the beginning to how I got married to Yassef Ibrahim. 

_____________

Alhamdulilah: said when grateful for what God has given you.

S.a.w: Peace be upon his soul in Arabic form.

Hadith: a saying that came straight from the prophets mouth made by a companion.