ON HOLD The perks of being a Hafizah

Liar

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Yahya's POV

From the moment I spotted the beard to the moment he started to speak to dear Amatullah, I sensed a familiarisation in his voice, in his manner and his attitude.

Never would I forget the day that he had, when I was in year 3/3rd grade, approached me and took my sister from me. Long gone were the days when me and my sister played together and came the days were she used to nestle in her room, eyes glued to the phone for his messages.

Lost was her respect, stolen was her chastity and taken was her deen.

She sits now, from a former Hafizah to a teenage model. Her life transformed, her future ruined.

Her heart, once with noor, now full of hatred, ignorance and apostasy.

Truly Allah swt guides whom he wills.

For I was told he is trying to change as a person. I believed he was, for everyone sins yet in different ways and so I had let him be. I had dared not lay a finger on him and 9 years later I see the same man. The same face but with a beard; was it sewn or real, for the eye deceives much of life's encounters. Little do we know of it's meaning, did he keep the beard to follow the prophet saw or to mock him.

As he walked closer to Amatullah I sensed a reflection of my sister and that day where he had confronted my sister for her name and so began to feel an urge within me to run as fast as I could to her and take her in my arms and protect her from this man but it seemed the conversation had went a different direction.

He accused her and mocked her. Surely mockery is a trait of the Jahilliyah and little emotion did he show to the tears of Amatullah that fell down her blessed eyes.

What women in Islam deserves to get treated like this? What was this humiliation?

And for me he just went too far.

"Kareem! Fear Allah swt for God's sake" I roared at his face.

He turned to my direction and glared at me.

His eyes were penetrating yet I stood firm.

A women in Islam's honour is worth more than anything.

"Yahya is this how you talk to your moulana" he said screaming in too of his lungs.

Let us get this straight, he was only 18 and so he couldn't be a moulana?

"When are you Kareem? Your only 18 for God's sake. I respect you but I respect the honour of a Muslim women more then I would ever honour you. If you don't know the truth, be careful to speak falsehood" I spoke calmly at him.

He looked at me and studied my face and so reached his hand at my growing beard and pulled it to study my face. My face stretched and I felt some of my hair being pulled out if my chin. Within a minute, he looked up and laughed hysterically.

"Yahya! The Yahya? " He said loudly.

"What Khaleel. Talk real would you?" I retaliated with my anger boiling into frustration and driving into hatred.

"Your sister! Sure she was smoking hot with the...." He said attempting to whisper moving his hand.

"How dare you! Astagfirullah and in the masjid, have you no shame? I thought you were moulana! You know I bet the imam sent you here to tell is about whatever you are telling us. You know, you are lucky, so lucky that you are still alive. Still breathing. For what you did...." I whispered the ta'awwudh and let out a large sigh.

"Yeah I was sent and? I was, in the room the most knowledgeable about this topic in the room so I can call myself moulana" he spoke piercingly. He placed his hand into his pocket and took out his phone.

"Well it ain't mattering. That was the past. I have moved on" he places the phone screen in front of my face where there were two messages:

Girl 4: Hey sweety darling! What you up to??xxxxxxxx

Girl 5: coming over? I'm waiting!xx

I stood speechless, shamed and disgraced by his behaviour. I clenched my fists and my face started to burn.

Amatullah at this moment was staring at me, from her eyes it seemed that she was in pity of me. She ran in front of me and looked at the phone which was in from of my face.

"You filthy Jahil. You filthy beast" she screamed where most if her words did not come out.

"Oi! What's happening man? Yo guys are bare confusing me? And what are you saying to him brav and Amatullah who are you to speak up? Going around with guys.." Spoke Jamal; a short and stout guy from the crowd.

At this point, I had come to terms that we were in a room ful of students, an audience witnessing our stupidity and what seemed to them a confusing dilemma.

"Oi listen Jamal! Please don't you start, you have no idea what is happening and what do you mean going around with guys. Have you seen her? Then what is your problem? What is everyone's problem" I spoke fiercely at everyone in the crowd. Being the oldest of the students at the masjid, they kept quiet, took in my words yet distilled unto their faces, looks of hatred and confusion.

"I do not wish to argue with you Khaleel but if you do not start to fear Allah and free them girls whoms hearts have strayed from Allah and unto you then you are going to be digging yourself a greater whole. I don't know how you see women, and what you did to my sister, you are lucky you are breathing at this moment but because of brotherhood I let you be. But, but.....I swear wallah, if you come up to Amatullah and if you all don't stop making accusations about your sister in Islam then I shall take it upon myself to be a witness for your actions in the day of judgement" I said throwing all my thoughts at Khaleel and the men.

"And I don't know who u think you are and I just do not understand why the imam sent you. I just can't take it. Saim Akhi can you call imam please" I said to the closest boy to me.

Within a second Khaleel fired a punch straight at my cheek.

The pain soaring, my tooth wobbling.

I spun a little around from the punch and started to feel dizzy, the background blurring but still conscious.

Voices roared higher and the Hifz student came running at me in order to protect me.

"What is your problem man! What on earth are you doing? Are you mental or what? Whatever your name is yeah you are paying for this!" Shouted a voice.

"Man how low can u steep? Can't take any criticism" another voice yelled.

The voices got louder and my senses became even more awake. By this time I stood up straight and looked at Khaleel and looked straight at him who was fixed unto Amatullah was looking at me with her hands on her niqab, her eyes popping out.

They door opened and in came the imam.