Safia’s POV

After the whole embarrassing Abubakar incident, I was in no rush to get married. I’d resolved to enjoy my single life a little more. When we were making plans to go to see Sheikh Khalid Yasin’s talk, Hamza had told me his friend could drive us. I immediately knew there was something fishy going on by the tone of his voice. After much inquiring, he admitted it was Yusuf who he had asked to drive us. I told him no. I didn’t feel comfortable enough with a non-mahram driving us let alone Yusuf! He was the first person to ever have shown interest in me and I didn’t want to ruin that. Also, I knew myself too well. If Yusuf drove us, all my attention would be on him and that’s just Islamically wrong isn’t it?

I had gone to the lecture and as always, I was so moved and inspired by Sheikh Khalid Yasin’s words. I was afraid to take Sara with me in fear that she would cause disruption. Aisha wasn’t feeling well so I thought I’d help her with the kids. Luckily, Sara was very well behaved so Hafsa and I took her for a treat to the park after the talk ended.

When Hafsa and I got home, we were so tired. As usual I had dropped a bit of ice cream on my hijab. I left the bathroom door open as I washed the stain out.

“This scene is all too familiar. When are you going to start eating like a human?”

“The day my brother learns to act like one.”

“Who? Amaan? I’m gonna tell him!” Hamza put on a fake shocked face.

“What do you want?” I asked after failing to think of a comeback.

“I need a word with you.”

“Proceed.” I told him.

“Stop trying to be intellectual.”

“If one is highly intellectual then one should express their intellect.” Hamza rolled his eyes. “Fine, go downstairs, I’m coming.” I left my hijab on the radiator to dry, taking a fresh one out of my wardrobe. I loosely wrapped it around my head. There weren’t any non-mahrams in the house but this was just a habit of mine. I walked into our spacious living room to find Hamza wasn’t there. “Where’s Hamza?” I asked out loud to no one in particular

“In here.” He replied from the dining room. We called it the ‘dining room’ but we hardly ate there. We either sat on table in the kitchen or sat in the living room to eat. The dining room was just a room where we sat to discuss matters away from our parents. Only guests ate dinners there.

“Why doth thou summon me?” I asked.

“Take a seat Shakespeare.” I sat down across from Hamza. I knew he was going to be talking to me about something serious. I wasn’t in the mood.

“So what’s this about?”

“You know Yusuf hasn’t seen you either yet? He was lowering his gaze too.” Hamza smiled at me as if this would make me like Yusuf more. I didn’t smile back. Nor was I happy. Yeah it was great that the guy was practicing but why would he ask to get to know me if he hadn’t seen me? “He thinks you’re smart and funny.” Hamza said as if he was reading my mind. I felt my thoughts leading to negativity as it processed in my mind that Yusuf hadn't seen me yet. I tried to stop it but they jumped into my head. Of course Yusuf didn’t like me because of my looks. That sounds like a good thing but I so wished he thought I was pretty. He probably wouldn’t want to get to know me if he’d seen me.

 “Cool.” I replied forcing a smile. ‘Allah moulded you, Allah loves the way you look, Allah will grant your wish of a loving husband, be patient.’ I kept saying over and over in my head. I didn’t like this feeling of insecurity. It literally made me feel slightly sick.

“What’s wrong? I thought that’s a great thing. He lowers his gaze and he’s not superficial.”

“Nothing’s wrong. That’s great.” Hamza looked unconvinced but carried on regardless.

“So do you want to get to know him?” I’d be lying if I said no. I had just persuaded myself that I was in no rush to get married. It felt logical to say no but I knew I’d regret it later if I didn’t seize this opportunity and take the risk. I knew no matter what I told myself, the desire for marriage was always present.

“Let me think about it.” I replied and went to my room.

For the rest of the evening all I could do was think about it. I wasn’t even sure what I was thinking. I was imagining all sorts of scenarios. What if he was really hot but he had a horrible personality? Definitely wouldn’t accept that. But what if he was really ugly but had the most amazing personality. Ugly people with good personalities become better looking in loved ones eyes over time. I’d consider that. I guess I’d be happiest with average looks and a humble personality. I strangely didn’t find the idea of a really hot husband that appealing. That is unless he happened to look like Michael Scofield from Prison Break. But what were the chances of that? Finally when I was about to sleep, I had come to a conclusion of what I’d do. I’d make a list of questions and I’d make a judgment on whether I want to get to know him based on that.

Morning came and I looked at the time, 11.00am. Everyone was awake except me, again. I forced myself out of bed. I dragged my legs to the bathroom rubbing my eyes. I really wasn’t a morning person. Then I remembered I had to make questions for Yusuf and I suddenly felt more awake. I was quite excited about this. After getting ready, having breakfast and praying Zuhr, I finally sat down on my bed with a notebook and pen in my hand.

Questions for Yusuf

I wrote and then I began to think. What would I want to know about a guy? What would be a sensible first question?

1)     Have you had any past relationships with women?

If I had kept myself pure, then he should be pure too. ‘Men of purity are for women of purity, women of purity are for men of purity.’ (Qur’an 24:26). But Hamza might read this. I guess I should make it more subtle. And maybe it shouldn’t be the first question. I crossed it out.

1)     What are your views on women working? For example, a woman becoming a teacher.

I wanted to become a teacher so I had to know what he thought about that. It seemed like a reasonable first question.

2)     Do you get along well with children?

Children were a huge part of my life. He needed to be fond of Musa, Sara and Zidan. And this question would give me an idea of what kind of father he may be.

3)     What sort of humour do you have? Are you a serious person or fun?

That was an awkward question but I didn’t know how to word it. I wouldn’t be able to survive someone who was really serious and disapproved of my sarcasm and teasing.

4)     What are your views on watching TV? Like, watching films and TV shows.

I wondered if he’d let me continue watching The Vampire Diaries and Once Upon a Time. Also, I had daydreamed about watching movies with my husband late at night munching on snacks.

5)     What are your hobbies?

Sensible question.

6)     Do you want to continue living with your family after marriage or move out? I don’t mind either option, just wanted to know what you would prefer.

I added the last part so he wouldn’t get scared and think I wanted to tear him away from his family.

7)     Have you previously been affiliated with any person of the opposite gender?

That’s a nice way of asking whether he’s ever had a girlfriend.

8)     How would you describe yourself?

One thing I cannot stand is when someone was big headed and arrogant. This would give me a nice inkling on how he sees himself.

9)     How is your relationship with your family?

This would give me a good idea of how he will interact with my family. I was glad he was friends with Hamza.

10)  How is your relationship with your mother?

If he has a good relationship with his mother, he most likely respects women. And if he respects women, he would be a good husband to his wife.

I ended there. I looked at the page, it was really messy. I rewrote it in the best handwriting I could. It took me a long time to write it presentably. My handwriting wasn’t the greatest. After using up 3 sheets of paper with attempts to make the questions look neat, I was finally satisfied. I went back down the stairs.

“Where’s Hamza?” I asked Zayna who was watching Spongebob Squarepants.

“He’s gone to pray with your dad. He’ll be back in about five minutes, why?” My mum replied instead.

“I just need to speak to him.”

“What’s that?” My mum asked motioning to the sheet in my hand. Oh no. How was I going to reply? I couldn’t lie to my mum, that’s just wrong. Would silence count as lying. The doorbell rang. Saved by the bell! I went to the door and saw Hafsa and Faiza standing there.

“Hafsa! Faiza!” I screamed.

“Safia!” They both screamed back at me.

“Close the door, the house is getting cold.” My mum told us. I closed the door and told Hafsa I needed to show her something.

“What about me?” Faiza asked. I gave her a sceptic look. “I know. This is because I told dad about Abubakar isn’t it?” She asked. I nodded. “I promise I won’t tell whatever it is you wanna tell Hafsa.” Faiza pleaded. “You know I only told dad to help you.” I smiled at her hopeful face.

“Come along then.” When we got to my room, I asked Hafsa and Faiza what they thought about asking Yusuf questions. They agreed it was a good idea. I showed them the question sheet I prepared.

“It’s good, but you spelt affiliated wrong. You put two l’s.”

“What?” I asked taking the sheet out of her hand. I got a pen and tried joining the l’s to make it looks like one l. It just made it messy. “Now I have to write this all over again.” I moaned, annoyed. Faiza handed me my pen and notepad. “Can’t you write it instead?” I asked trying to muster a puppy dog look on my face.

“Eulgh, not with a face like that.” Hafsa said laughing. I slapped her jokingly on the arm. “Write it yourself. Don’t you want to make it more personal?” She asked raising her eyebrows mockingly. I huffed but eventually agreed. I took a very long time writing it out again. A while after admiring my neat writing and perfect spelling, Hamza came.

“Zayna said you were calling me?” He asked standing at the door. I got up and handed him the sheet.

“I need you to give this to Yusuf. If he passes this test, then it’s a yes from me. As in, a yes to get to know him. Not a yes to marry him. And you can tell him to write out some questions for me too if he wants.” Hamza took the sheet.

“Why didn’t you just email him? That would have been easier. Now you have to wait till I see him again.” I hadn’t thought of that. I gave him a blank look.

“Just give him the sheet.” I told him. He nodded, going through the paper. I saw him frowning at one of the questions. Oh well. “When’s the next time you see him?” I asked.

“Don’t know. I’ll invite him for football next week and give this to him then.”

“Next week?” I moaned. “You’re playing football today evening. Why don’t you invite him today?”

“Some people have lives you know. Not everyone has a lot of free time like you.”

“Just ask him please?” Hamza let out an annoyed sigh.

“Fine.” He huffed going to his room. I went back to Hafsa and Faiza. We intended to have a girly chat but ended up drawing things on each other’s faces with eyeliner.