MY STORY OF TURMOIL& THEN BLISS-PART 1/3- POST 17

Published July 20, 2014 by katysoqewl

Asalamualaykum dear readers. Sorry for the super late post, I’m really sorry. Do enjoy it and make me maaf

 

My breakfast is Chanel, my Qur’aan Burberry, shoes Jimmy Choo and cloaks Prada. My musallahs are pure silk and my scarf pins Bedoon Essm. My Victoria Secret draw has the latest lines and my souvenir cupboard has one from every end of the world. My name is Ruqayya Karrim and this is my story.

I am from a home that is islamically inclined. I am a Haafidha and Aalima and is 18 years old. As a muslimah growing up in a city, my parents never really allowed me to go out allot. My mother always said, “The vices are great out there!”

Restricted to the confines of my 2 story mansion, I always wondered what life was like in Shahistas shoes. She goes clubbing every Friday and Saturday night, does what she wants and dresses as she pleases.

My morals and values were very different from hers, but often I got the urge to just go and see what clubbing was all about. When these thoughts would cross my mind, I would make wudhu and prostrate before the lord of the heavens and earth.

It was just another Friday night, after supper when Aunty Johanna had come to draw my blinds and make my bed. I often sat till the late hours of the night on social networks chatting to my fellow aalimahs from madressa. Scrolling Twitter, and then opening instagram, I could help but notice my friends from the neighbourhood including Shahistas tweets about some HUGE party tonight at Joe Cools. The pictures captivated my attention and it looked like fun. After a lengthy battle between my nafs and my Allah fearing heart, desire over powered me. I couldn’t go in my “ABAYA” so I took out a dress and my tight jeans. My scarf still covered my hair and my satr wasn’t showing.

I told myself that I will not get involved and that I just wanted to see. Using my balcony as an exit point, I scaled my neighbour’s tree and found myself two streets away from the “THEE” place. Crossing the road all buoyed up by my glamorous adventure, I entered the “BAR”. The music was blaring and alcohol was being sprayed everywhere. Everyone seemed in their own world. Thirsty, I looked around for water or coke that was sealed but found none. Eventually I drank from an open bottle of water lying on the counter. Within minutes I started losing my senses and panic-stricken I left, heading home. As I was crossing the road, a bright white light shown in my face and the next time I blinked I was in a room filled with African men… all NUDE..

 

MY BREAKFAST

MY BREAKFAST

 

OUR HOUSE

OUR HOUSE

 

SOCIAL MEDIA...

SOCIAL MEDIA…

 

– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM

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