HIJABI ✔️

Chapter 1

Ruqayyah's POV

"Ruqayyah!" I hear my mother's yell from all the way in my bedroom. This woman can shout.

I sigh in exhaustion as I mentally curse myself for not listening to my mum when she told me to go to bed early last night. I spent the night on call with my friends Zeinab and Dina from back in Spain and I lost track of time. Now it's that time of the year again, but the worst? End of year exams will be coming up.

My name is Ruqayyah Deen, I am 18 years old and in my last year of college. My mum can't wait to have me out of that boarding college as she detested the idea from the beginning. Yep, you read it right, I study in a boarding college which is an accommodation school where I stay all week and only come back home for the weekend.

I have one little sister and another older sister. We are all girls, mashaa Allah. Even though I would like a brother as well, this is what Allah decided for my family, so I'll just be grateful for it.

My older sister is twenty-five years old, her name is Hannah, she's married and already has one son and one daughter. She got married at the age of twenty, before she finished her studies. My sister had three years of study to go through when she got married but she had to stay in maternity leave when she had the baby, so she lost one year. She's on maternity leave right now because of her daughter, she has just gotten a baby last month. After this maternity leave, that's when she's going to finish her degree, In Shaa Allah.

My whole family is from Guinea Conakry, the largest city in Guinea. Most people don't know that place. Whenever I introduce myself as a Guinean, they rather think I said Kenya or Ganah. For those of you who don't know, the country is located in West Africa. I and my older sister were born in Conakry, but my little sister was born in London, which is where we're currently living. Although I was born in Conakry, I didn't grow up there. My family is very much of a traveller and at the age of two, we went to Spain and that is where I grew up. At the age of ten, we travelled to England and I started secondary school here.

I read my morning dua and then get up from my comfy bed towards the bathroom. I do my morning hygiene and after the shower, I blow dry my 4B coily crimpy, shoulder-length, black afro hair and brushed it until I felt like it was presentable to be underneath a headscarf. I leave the bathroom and wear my new dark blue abaya which I had bought last Sunday with my mum.

I leave my room and meet my dad on the corridor as well, making his way to the kitchen, "Assalamu Aleykum, Ruqayyah," He greets with a smile.

"Wa Aleykumu Salam, dad."

I could go back and forth with my mum all the time, but with my dad, never. He never gets mad at me. In fact, he never gets mad at anyone really. He is so understanding and always trying to put himself on other people's shoe. Meanwhile, my mum takes every little "bad" thing I do as a whole crime scene.

"Let me help you with that." He grabs the suitcase from me.

"Thank you, dad." I follow him to the kitchen, where also remained our dining hall.

"Assalamu Aleykum," My mum greets while washing some dishes.

Both I and my dad reply and my dad goes on to give my mum a quick kiss on her cheek.

I smile at that and sit on the chair for breakfast. My mum and dad have been married for twenty-six years and still didn't stop loving each other, not even a little bit, and seeing these small love affections from them makes me happy and hope I'll have the same luck as my mum. Having someone that loves me by my side for the rest of my life.

"I better go check on Khadijah. I don't want her having late arrivals like last year." My mum says and leaves the room.

Let's say my mum isn't the most punctual person, but with Khadijah who drives everybody crazy, who can really maintain their sanity?