My dad turned away shamefully and headed for the car, while my mum hurried after him. I stood there, as the happenings of that night played like a movie before my eyes. Brushing aside tears, I made my way to the car. The journey home held no conversation just silence. It was occasionally broken by the ringing of Uncle Johannes’s phone. On arrival home, my parents proceeded to the confines of their room while I sat in the namaaz room, crying my heart out. The door was opened and my mum walked in. Seated next to her, I told her the horrendous events of that night.
She read an aayat of the qur’aan and left. Feeling as though she had turned on me, I turned towards the almighty. After all my parents did to raise a good and pious child, I had faltered. I had disappointed… the bright day had all of a sudden turned a black-grey as lighting belched. I dazed off but was woken by the ringing of the house phone. Making my way to the hall slowly, I thought the ringing would stop, but it only carried on.
IT WAS DOCTOR FATIMA
“Asalamualaykum, can I please speak to Ms. Karim”
She had news that the test results were wrong and that I was AIDS free. With a new sense of excitement, I listened as she told me how they had mixed up the files. My heart leapt with joy as I thanked her, hung up and hurried to my parent’s room to tell them the news. Their excitement knew no bounds and Muhammad’s parents were contacted and informed about my decision
Muhammad could come propose….
Over the next two months, I with the help of my mum and a fellow psychologist managed to help me deal with that life scarring situation
Today 5 years later, a wife and a mother of 2, this poem has been engraved on my heart
“The life of one can be altered by desire
In matters of religion, should we never tire
And indeed, we will come out a sire”
– YOUR SISTER IN ISLAM