Zakir Khan

Tariq sat around the coffee table while the girls went up to Laila's room to talk. My father was going to join us after he finished talking to a worker on the phone. Tariq had a tired look on his face. He and Aunt Yusra weren't on the best terms. I felt bad for this kid, but I also admired him. He was the one who kept his family together after his father's death.

"Zakir, what are we going to do?" he asked while running a hand through his black hair.

"I know. This is getting out of hands. I can't just divorce my wife for a girl I don't love. It's insane!"

"Again, I am truly sorry for that. My mom just thinks she's protecting you."

"Tariq, you have nothing to be sorry for. It's time to help Aunt Yusra realize her mistakes. We all can help her," I said.

Tariq put his head down. He just stared at his hands for a while before he spoke so quietly that I almost didn't hear him. His voice quivered.

"I-It's just so h-hard. I've been carrying my mother's burden for years and I fear I have done a terrible job. Maysa deserves a mother and father. I couldn't play that role right. Mom didn't even support us on our dreams."

"You did a good job taking care of Maysa. She's such a wonderful Muslimah. You did something Aunt Yusra never did that helped Maysa become who she is," I said while leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms.

"What?" he brought his head up and looked at me with teary eyes.

"You kept your faith in Allah. Even when there were bumps on the road, you still kept your belief in Allah. You were the role model Maysa had. You gave her the Islamic environment to live in. Aunt Yusra didn't do that, you did. Tariq, you did do your duty as a Muslim and a brother to her. And you still are doing it," I smiled.

He looked at me a little with an expressionless face. Then he shook his head. "But-"

A new voice cut him off. "No. Zakir is right. Maysa is fine now because of you. I just talked to Maysa and she talked about how you were always doing your best to help her and support her. You are more than a brother to her, but like you said we need to get your mom back on that road with you."

I turned around to see Zaynub leaning against the doorframe, smiling at us.

"Zaynub," I breathed out.

She walked over to me and after her followed Maysa, Deeliyah, Laila, Khadijah, and my father.

"Alright let's start planning," my father said as he clapped his hands together.

"Wait! Don't start without me!" exclaimed my mother as she ran into the room with cookies on a tray.

"Oh cookies!" Deeliyah and I said at the same time. We looked at each other before we cracked up laughing.

"Who knew we were so alike?" I chuckled.

"Well obviously," grinned Deeliyah.

"Now now children. We are here to help Tariq not so you two realize that you're alike. Now be serious!" my mother yelled the last part.

"Cranky much," I mumbled. Zaynub elbowed me. I turned to her and saw that she was glaring daggers at me. "Woah chill."

"Zakir be nice," she warned quietly.

"Okay okay. Now where were we?"

"Okay so any ideas on how to bring back faith to someone?" my father asked as he looked around the room.

"What if we encouraged her to learn more about Islam and understand that Allah does things for a reason?" Laila stated.

I snorted. "We already tried that."

"Maybe we didn't do it right," she countered back while keeping a hard gaze on me.

I stood up. "Laila, we tried that for four freaking years. We have been pushing Islamic studies on her and pulling her to go to Muslim speakers to hear what they have to say. We even give her lectures at home, yet she still ignores it!"

"Maybe we aren't doing it right! Ever thought of that, smart one!" Laila yelled.

"What are you talking about? We did try it in many different ways," I said while clenching my fists. Why doesn't she realize we already tried that? Why does Laila keep pushing it?

"Both of you stop it right now!" Zaynub yelled while standing between us.

"You know, every time I tell you an idea you always turn it down. Does it hurt to just listen to me?" Laila questioned, looking me right in the eye. Her dark eyes were challenging mine.

"What did I turn down before?" I challenged.

Laila gave a bitter laugh. The room went deathly silent. "Don't you remember?" she questioned.

"What? Laila, what are you talking about?" I asked getting annoyed of her games.

"Allow me to enlighten you, brother. A few days before we went to Zaynub's house for the first time in years someone proposed to me. Does the name 'Khaliq' ring a bell?" she asked as she raised her eyebrows at me.

Khaliq? Who was that? 

Then realization hit me like a bucket of cold water. Khaliq was this one guy that proposed to Laila and my father and I turned him down. Why? Because he was a drug abuser at a young age. I didn't think it was right of Laila to marry him even though she was really eager to that marriage.

"Laila, he wasn't right for you. I know this and so does dad," I sighed while lookng at my father.

My father cleared his throat before standing up as well. "Zakir is right. Did you honestly think we would get you married to a drug abuser?"

Laila's face turned red. And I thought Zaynub was scary when she was mad, this was ten times worse.

"He changed! I know he did I saw him at school. He was my crush in high school. I really liked him and he became a really good Muslim. He's such a role model,'' she cooed.

I face palmed myself. "You can be so blind sometimes. Dad and I actually looked into this guy. He's not the Muslim you think he is. He isn't that practicing. He only is in public," I explained.

"You don't know him!" defended Laila.

"I know him well enough to know he isn't good for you!" I countered back.

"He changed. Why don't you see that? He isn't the same as he once was. I know. I saw the change. I saw the guilt in his eyes when he is asked about his past," she said with tears glistening her eyes.

"Laila, your brother and I looked at his background too. He isn't good enough for you. You deserve better," my father said softly.

"No! You all haven't seen the change. You all don't see what he does to help others. No man equals up to him now a days. He had a rough past, but so what? He is trying his best to fix them and his Iman (faith) is getting stronger in the process. I can feel it. If Allah can forgive him, then why can't you?" she whispered.

"Laila, he wasn't right just accept it and move on from this. I know what's best for you," my father put his hands on her shoulders.

"How can you say that when you never knew him? How?" she said quietly and then ran off to her room.

I sighed and sat back down. "Let's go back to what we were originally talking about. We'll deal with her afterwards."

Tariq seemed to snap out of his daze. "Oh, right. Well, I agree with Laila. Maybe we are doing something wrong."

"If it were true than what are we doing wrong?" I asked confused.

"Baby steps," Zaynub said.

"What?"

"Baby steps," she repeated. "You can't expect someone to get their faith when you force it on them. You have to start with the simple things first before dragging her around."

"How do you suppose we do that?" asked my mother.

"Easy. Start with saying one hadith every morning and just do your duty as a Muslim. Stop forcing her and focus on your deen," explained Zaynub.

How was this suppose to help? I'm missing a big piece to this.

"How does that help?" asked Maysa.

"Allow me to tell you a story. Once there was this Muslim couple that weren't so religious. They didn't exactly pray five times a day or follow the commands of Allah. One day the husband decided to change and become a better Muslim. He started praying and following the commands Allah told us to. He even started asking his wife to join him, but she refused. The husband one day went up to the imam and asked for advice on how to make his wife a better Muslim. The imam told him to just focus on his faith only. The husband did what the iman said and after a few months his wife started joining him in prayers and woke him up for Fajr. When the husband asked why she said, 'I saw you becoming such a good person and having an amazing character that it changed me as well.' Basically, she saw him as a role model through his actions not words. Islam is not only a religion of words, but also one of actions," Zaynub concluded.

We all sat quietly, processing what she had just said. Man, my wife is one amazing Muslim scholar. Pride began to fill me at that thought.

"So first step is becoming a role model to her?" my father asked.

Zaynub shook her head. Didn't she just say that's what it was?

"It's patience. You need to have patience in this or else you won't succeed. Then comes the role model," she smiled.

"Oh," was our reply.

"But remember that just making du'aa won 't help. You have to do a part and Allah does a part. Allah doesn't do all the work. We have to strive for it as well," Zaynub said softly before getting up. "I'm going to talk to Laila."

She walked away, leaving all of us stunned at her words. Everyone was silent. We were all reflecting on what we had just heard. After this problem I needed to have a chat with Laila. 

Lucky me. Note the sarcasm.

Assalamualaikum!

What do you guys think about the plan? I apologize for making you all wait, but over the weekend I was at the ICNA-MAS Convention in Baltimore. Remember to vote, comment, and fan! Thanks ;)