Sofia!

Sofia!

My blissful slumber was rudely disrupted by my screaming mother. “This is why no one wants to get married to you. Wake up now it is getting late!”

I had begun fasting every Tuesday and Thursday since my wedding was called off, my attempt at gaining closeness to Allah. It was a time for taking control of my life and taking time out for myself.

I snuggled down for a few more minutes sleep. “Sofia!” Oh dear, it was The Hulk, well not really him but my sister shouting at me whilst stomping her way up the stairs toward my bedroom. “Can you get out of bed already. We don’t have all day to wait for you, some of us need to get back to bed!”, she yells from just outside my door. Ayesha is The Hulk, well, but not in size or colour, just the same angry temperament.

After my ablutions, I make my way to the kitchen and to the aroma of my Mother’s mutton curry and Ayesha’s moaning. “Just great! My hair is going to smell like the Indian Spice Emporium in Durban.”

Suhoor in our family has always been a noisy affair. The entire family gathered at our house filling up the space with noisy chatter and great smelling breakfast food. Nani would eat as if she were at a wedding, Nana moaning about the fact that he had not yet had a samoosa and Ayesha, of course, whining and moaning. The ladies in the kitchen planning the days menu and men talking about business.

Today though, it was starkly different. Like a funeral pall had settled over everyone, making Ayesha look like she would surprise us all and turn large and green. My grandparents were trying to maintain the required 1-metre social distancing after having been together on the same bed all night. Mum was trying to cajole Ayesha into eating some curry which in turn got her revved up. Dad was sitting at the table, mask in place, looking like he was about to begin a surgical procedure on the loaf of bread close to him. The fear of the invisible coronavirus was well implanted into the hearts and minds of my family.

The joy and laughter had been sucked out of our homes by a bug we knew nothing about!

My face must have shown my feelings as my Dad looked at me and said gravely, “Don’t stress, Behta. It is all written, Allah’s plan. We got no control Behta. Just accept.”

At that moment, I realized that we may not be where we think we should be in life, but Allah has chosen for us what He knows to be best for us.

Ha! That is just it. . . Tawakkul, having full trust and belief in my Lord.

We may be apart, but we are still together!