The Bind

CHAPTER 1

The New Job

The buzz from Saratu's phone jerked her awake. She picked it up reluctantly studying its screen with squinted eyes.

Private number?

"Na'am" she said into the receiver.

"Assalam alaikum" a masculine voice greeted from the other end.

"Wa alaikum salam" she replied in confusion, certain it was not her husband's voice.

"How have you been, my dear?" the strange voice continued. "I've missed you so much Saratu." he finished hurriedly before she could think of a reply.

There was something familiar about the voice but she couldn't place it at the moment.

"Is your husband home? Do you mind if I come keep you company?"

That's it!

Fury clouded her reasoning but as she made to click on the red button, bouts of feminine laughter - coming from the other end of the line - stopped her.

Recognizing who it was, she burst out uncontrollably too, tears in her dark eyes.

Ruqayyah!

"When will you change for Allah's sake? After marriage ba?" Saratu chuckled.

"Not at all, after I see my first grand child!" Ruqayyah replied amidst laughter. "I have good news for you." she continued with an excited shrill "I got the job!"

"Maa sha Allah! BarakaLLAHU feeh, darling. So when will you resume?" Saratu asked happily.

"Tomorrow in Shaa Allah. I have to go now dear; so much preparation needed! Love you!"

After they ended the call, Saratu's thoughts drifted a little to their University days. How much she missed the moments they shared together. Ruqayyah never bothered about their cultural differences and always treated her like a blood sister. She had shared so many secrets with Ruqayyah and, unlike what she had heard about girls from the yoruba tribe, Ruqayyah wasn't a gossip or a tale bearer. She was quite different. She proved the general notion wrong.

Jumping out of her thoughts with a sudden need, Saratu made sure she kept her phone safely on the bed stand before scrambling for the bathroom in an awkward manner.

***

Ustadh Rasheed Ayolo studied his friend carefully from across the room where he sat comfortably in the Ibrahims' cream coloured parlour. Clad in a white caftan with his trousers above his ankle, a stranger would easily mistake him for a Muslim scholar.
Alhaji Ibrahim, though far older in age, always respected and treated him like a brother. The man's zeal for Islamic knowledge during the question and answer session, where Ustadh Rasheed led as the imam, made him notice the aged man. Ustadh Rasheed's admiration for him had increased when he noticed that the man never missed his salat in jama'a. However, his recent decision to allow his only female child travel away from home to seek a job got him worried and confused. Yet it was not his place to condemn. It was the obligation of a believer to give his brother excuses.

"So Alhaji, hope you are hearing from your daughter?" He asked calmly.

"Ah, yes. She's fine, AlhamduliLlah. We spoke early this morning and she gave me glad tidings about her new job." he said with a smile that brightened his handsome features.

"Maa sha Allah. Where is that?"

"At an Islamic Nursery and Primary school. She attended the interview just a week ago. It seems they urgently needed some hands to join them for the new session." he explained.

"Oh, that's very good. So, what's the name of the school?"

"Emm, she said it's Al-Aqwam International School"

"SubhanaLLAH," Ustadh Rasheed couldn't contain his excitement, "that's one of the best Islamic schools in Ilorin. I've heard so much about it. AlhamduLILLAH." He felt relief wash over him. Still... "Why did she have to go that far? There are good schools here in Lagos too." he probed.

"Well, she said she needed a change from this rugged environment, and since she's to be married soon in Shaa Allah, I decided to allow her some air. Please excuse me." Alhaji Ibrahim said as he rose from his seat to respond to the call of Salatul isha. The Ustadh nodded knowingly.

Left to his thoughts as he waited for his friend to be done with his ablution so they could proceed to the mosque together, Ustadh Rasheed shifted uneasily in his seat.
Ruqayyah had been his student since her university days when she attended his private lessons during the holidays. He had always known her to be decent. He really feared for her with regards her relationship with Ilyas. No matter how the Ustadh tried, he just couldn't see any religious compatibility between them. Where Ruqayyah hurried towards knowledge, Ilyas got easily irritated with religious discussions during youth circles. The young man would also give flimsy excuses for missing jumu'ah prayers.
Ustadh Rasheed sighed.

Allah is the All-Aware. He knows what's best for everyone. Yet, it was his duty to protect his student.
From his seven years experience as an imam, such marriages had proven to be fruitless, the terrible effects resting on the woman. Sooner or later, she would be forced to follow the path of her husband.
He shook his head. He couldn't allow that. He couldn't allow Ruqayyah fall into the wrong hands, if Allah permitted him. If the Nikaah must take place, so be it. If they couldn't change the date, they would have to change the groom.
All he had to do was dial an old friend's number.

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Assalam alaikum warahmatuLLAH wabarakatuh good people! Now you have it : The first chapter of my story! Liking it already huh? Please feel free to share your thoughts with me by commenting. You don't have to be shamiiieee-shy. Haha!

Stay tuned for more on this space in Shaa Allah. JazakumuLLAHU khayran. Ma'a Salam!!!!