Footballer's hijabi wife

4.Clichè

After a very tiresome week . There had been an accident. A huge accident had happen in town so the hospital was quite full. And after all the turmoil this week. I am glad today I am free and I even have the opportunity to go for the Jumaah (Friday) congregational prayer and I would get the chance to hear the Khutbah too, so wow. Alhamdulillah a big win for me today.

"Saffiyya are you with Ruqqayya already?"

"Yeah we are done with classes."

"Okay then I'm 15 minutes away. I'll come get you guys and we'll go to the mosque together."

"Okay Aqsa. Drive safe in sha Allah"

"Thank you habibty. Ameen"

I loved taking them with me since I was a teenager. I took them with me in dawa'ah conferences and all. Our age difference wasn't big so we got along on a lot of things. But well, not everything. Their wild teenage thoughts and freak shows. Well those, definitely weren't for me. Atleast, I grew out of them. But no, I was never like these two girls. I laughed.

After 15 minutes more or less I was there at their high school.

"Let's rush guys. I don't want to get late.'

They got into my car and off we drove to the grand mosque. Atleast the khutbah hadn't started yet.

Today, I wore my navy green jilbab with black endings by the hands. My sisters were in their black abayas which they had to wear inside the car since they don't wear abayas at school. We made ablution and made our way to the prayer hall in the mosque's women section. Subhanallah, I was walking quietly when someone called my name.

'Dr.Aqsa!' Wow. It must be a patient. No one calls me that.

I turned to see the woman who I had walked to my praying place at the hospital. Noor-I remembered was her name. She was with a younger girl maybe 13 or less. She had the same eyes as her son, the one who was at the hospital that day two months ago.

She was a much lighter complexion than her mother, so I'd judge maybe her father was white.
Her face features were like her mothers MashaAllah and they were so beautiful. I couldn't forget her mother.

'Mrs Noor. Asalaam aleykum.'

'Waaleykum salaam my dear. You still have that mrs. Just call me Umm Youssef.' I saw the young girl frown. Wishing her mother had said her name instead. I smiled at her too.

'I'm glad you remember me.'

'Oh how could I forget you my dear.'

'This is my daughter. Maryam.'

'She's so beautiful Mashallah. I've been wanting to say it.'

I patted her head.

'These are my younger sisters. Ruqqayya and Saffiyya.' After exchanging greetings we made our way to the prayer lines.

The khutbah then began and today the khutbah was about Islam and women rights. Shining light on the roles of women and their values in islamic societies.

The misconceptions. And Alhamdulillah it was so beautiful to listen to. How Jannah was under the feet of our mothers. And my heart was in pain that I had lost my door to Jannah at a very tender age. Maybe like Maryam. I was young but smart and I understood all of it. I remembered everything so clearly and I am glad, I learned a lot from my mother before she passed and I always kept her in my prayers. She was such an amazing muslimah and I'm glad I got a good example and foundation from her. I remember her for being an amazing slave to her Rabb(Lord), I remember her for being an excellent mother.