HOW WILL I COPE? – Episode 5

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KAFAYAH {Ummu Yaseer}

It has been almost a month now that I have been troubling my mind with the thought of my husband marrying a second wife. I am just imagining how it is going to look like.
“My romantic marital life going down the drain just like that? I can’t even imagine it… It won’t be easy, I don’t think it will!” I am thinking aloud.”Subhanallah! What am I thinking? I’m a believing woman and this shouldn’t be my thought. Astagfirullah!” I reprimand myself as I retire to the sofa, “but why isn’t it easy for me to just accept after all my faith and understanding?” I say aloud as I run my fingers through my hair, wipe them down to my face and then rest my cheeks on my palms.
I try to think but the consequential headache will not allow me to be, I can feel it around my frontal lobe, then I lie down on the sofa to take a short nap…
My phone rings, I am still drowsy as I pick the call.
“You said you are coming this morning and the time right now is about 12pm, hope no problem?”, says the voice on the phone.
Checking my phone screen, I realise it is my Mum. “Ummy, I’m very sorry, I slept off and I will be on my way now, Asalaamu Alaykum.”
“Wa Alaykum Salaam, is that why you sound so tired? Or what’s up with that voice of yours?” She asks.
What reply should I give her? I don’t want to tell her what is going on. I hate letting my parents into my marital affairs and it is a principle we have both held unto ever since our marriage. We solve our issues by ourselves no matter how complicated it is. I’m not going to tell them,
“Nothing ma, just that I was sleeping” I respond.
Despite my conscious caution, a part of me wants to tell my parents, or just tell someone, it wants me to me to let it out!
I go back into the bedroom. I almost forget I have been working on my laptop. I sit on the bed to check on my work.
It is almost complete” I smile, Habeeby must compesate me a substantially this time because I am now spending 3 days on it. I am sure he will gladly do that because he knows what this would have cost him if he goes out there. “I trust him,” I murmur as I shut down the system.
Now back in the room after my bath,. I open my wardrobe to choose what to wear.
“I have to wear something classy else Ummy won’t stop bombarding me with questions about my personal affairs.” I sough as I seek through my dresses.
I pick a long dark pink dress Habeeby bought for me last year when he was seeking a huge contract. He bought it in request of a prayer from me. Funny Habeeby, I smile.
I put on the dress and realise it is now loose on me.
“I’m losing weight again, Ummy will definitely have something to say” I murmur, feeling depressed.
I think I have to relinquish these thoughts of having a co-wife from my mind. My health matters the most. I won’t die before it happens In Shaa Allah! I sit at the dressing table, apply the body lotion smoothly on my body. I see through the mirror how long my neck has become. “I better not remove my hijab in the presence of my Mum,” I am thinking as I rub my neck.
I put on my deep blue Khimar, tie my black Niqab, wear a deep blue socks with black low-wedged shoes.
“Where is my car key?” I ask as if there is a second person to answer me.
I don’t know where I put it. These days, I hardly drive because Habeeby does most of the shopping when returning from office. Other items like fish, fresh vegetables, locust beans are bought on the street. I start searching everywhere but I can’t find it. I keep searching. I almost give up when I see it at a corner on the kitchen slab.
“Alhamdulillah Rabil Aalamin, so I won’t take a public transport today!” I take a deep sigh, carry my black handbag and hurry out.
“Bismillah” I say as I start my car. Now, I start the two hours journey to Gbongan. On my way, I stop at a multi store to buy some things for Abby and Ummy.
….
On arriving Gbongan, I’m about to turn right into our street around Oke Church area when I see a woman whose back view looks much like my aunt’s. “Aunt won’t come to Gbongan without telling me.” So, I bother myself less and I zoom off.
Entering the house, “ASalaamu Alaykum Warahmatullah Wabarakaatuhu” I say with an happy smile seeing my kids praying.
“Ummy! Ummy! Ummy!” Ramsiyah shouts as she runs towards me. I bend down to give her a hug.
“Oh my baby, how are you?” I ask looking at Yaseer who does not even budge on his Salat. I bet he does not miss me or what is up with him?
“Where is grandma?”
“She has gone to Masjid”, she replies as I carry her on my lap then I undo my Niqab.
“Wow, Ma Sha Allah! My baby’s speech has improved. Now say Alhamdulillah”
“Alhamdulillah”, she says very fluently.
Ma Sha Allah! I am very happy seeing my kids again. They are my happiness and my joy…
Abby enters, “ASalaamu Alaykum Warahmatullah Wabarakaatuhu”
“Wa Alaykum Salaam Warahmatullah Wabarakaatuhu Abby” I reply
He smiles at me, I know he is very happy seeing me.
“How is everything and your husband?”
“We are all fine”
“Ahah! Longtime, you never miss me? You want us to be begging you before you come and visit us”
“No, Abby! Just that Osogbo to Gbongan isn’t a small journey. Sebi I do call you almost everyday” I reply as I’m trying to take off my Khimar…
“Ummy!” says Yaseer as he runs towards me.
“Alfa Yaseer, are you through with your Salat now? You have grown o, you didn’t even budge. I thought you never miss me”, I joke
“Grandpa said if I look elsewhere in my Salat that Shaytan will steal all my Salats and I won’t have any reward” Yaseer replies
“Ma Sha Allah! Grandpa is very right and I am going to give you a surprise gift for listening to grandpa”, I commend.
“Kifayat, you are really raising these children well. Keep it up dear” says Abby.
I reply him with a broad smile.
“It is time for Madrasah kids”, my father announces as he brings out money from his pocket and gives Yaseer and Ramsiyah “buy biscuits with this.”
They collect the money and run off to madrasah. They do not even fear that I may be gone before they return. They must be enjoying this place.
Abby stares at me as he sits, he must have missed me a lot – I guess, I keep smiling until I realise I have taken off my Hijab…
“What is happening, Kifayat?” he asks.
I tremble. I never want him to see it in me but he has already seen it. I’m even ashamed to tell him…
“Nothing sir, as in…” I reply
“Follow me, I don’t want your mother to meet us here discussing whatever it is”, he says as he stands and walks towards his room.
Does Abby know already? Has AbdulRahman informed him? I follow him, sit on his bed while he sits on the plastic chair, facing me.
“Dear daughter, I know something is really wrong, judging from your look and body. With the way I am seeing you, definitely , something is wrong.” He moves closer to me and continues “I am your father, don’t hide anything for me”. He continues to pet and console me with all kinds of soothing words. I remain silent but wear sober look. “Your kids are here so I can’t say they are the cause,” he continues “so share it with me, what is really happening?”
My Dad is caring and that is one thing about him. Caring enough to notice every single change in you, so I am not surprised that his guesses is this right.
“Abby, AbdurRahman is taking in another wife.” Unconsciously, I burst into tears. I do not know how the tears come, and saying that brings an unbearable pain in my heart.
“And so? Is that what you have been worrying yourself about?” Worries written on his face.
“Abby, I just don’t find it easy to accept. I understand it is Sunnah and he is very capable of doing it but Abby, it is paining me a lot,” I start sobbing.
“Hmm! Remember I told you this may happen when you were preparing for your Nikkah. I don’t have to be telling you what Allah says about polygamy because I know that you know a lot about it already. I will just advise you to be patient and strong. I don’t know the capability of your husband but the little I know about him assures me that he will establish justice between you. Don’t let this small issue deprive you of the blessings of your Lord. You have been striving to be the best of women since childhood and this is the time you should start striving to be the best. If he marries the second then know that he may marry the third and the fourth. Polygamy is one right Allah bestows on men. So you can’t deny it my daughter. I raise you on the path of piety and you can’t act less. Alhamdulillah! I have been able to achieve that. I am always proud of you and please let me always be. I know you can handle it. I just always pray to Allah to grant you more Sabr…”
I cut in, “Abby, but it is not a must men should marry more than a wife” I continue sobbing.
“Are you the one saying this? Allah says ‘… two and three and four but if you fear you won’t be able to do justice then only one…’ And your husband thinks he can do justice, so why can’t he marry two? Please, don’t think like an unbeliever, you are a woman of the Deen”
“But father, you marry only my Mum. Did you also fear you couldn’t do justice?” I inquire, trying to change his expression but instead he smiles.
“If I had the ability, I would have married four wives. I have many selfish reasons to do so. My inability is between my wife and I but I am going to share it with you today”, he pauses looking straight into my eyes.
I adjust inquisitively as he continues, “I have a sexual inability that I cannot satisfy my only wife in bed. Secondly, yourself as my first child know how I struggled to finance your education, you and your brother alone. I wasn’t financially bouyant, so how would I establish justice in marrying two?”
“One of the selfish reasons I have for marrying two is that your Mum couldn’t have more than you and your brother due to some medical reasons and I would have just had another wife that could bear me more. Do you know why I didn’t do it for that selfish reason? It was because it wouldn’t be for Allah’s sake. If I married another wife in the hope of having more children, can I dictate to Allah? Supposing I marry a new wife but Allah denies us children? Supposing He gives us children but they become my source of sorrow? I therefore choose to be contented with the Al-Jannah ticket you, my lovely daughter can earn me. Therefore, the best of reasons for marrying Mathna wa Thulaatha wa Ruba’a should only be for Allah’s sake and I hope your husband has such a tangible reason” he concludes.
“That was what he said Abby, he said he isn’t doing it because I am deficient in anyway but for the sake of Allah”, I say as I’m rubbing off my tears
“Therefore my dear,” father contiues “stop letting that thought rule over you. You are above that. If your husband ends up marrying a new wife and brings her into the same house with you, just take it as if you just have a new neighbour and whenever it is your husband’s turn with her, consider him on a business trip and he will surely soon come back to you. It won’t be easy I know but with the level of your Iman, I know you will cope” he enjoins, holding my hands.
“Thank you very much Abby, Jazaakallah khairan. Indeed, your words mean a lot to me and In Shaa Allah, I won’t stop being myself and I will strive more to be my better self” I submit, hugging him. He pats me on the back, he is really a Dad!
“Ameen, wa Anti Fajazaakillah Khairan. It is better you don’t tell your Mum, I will tell her myself.”
I also won’t dare tell her because she was against me marrying AbdulRahman in the first place. She said he is a Tablig because of his beards and above-ankle trouser. Though he was not, she said he will put me in veil and would not let me work. She even said he will have four wives and so many things. I could not reveal my plan to adopt the veil until the day of our Nikkah. On hearing this, my Mum was infuriated; she even threatened to disown me but thanks to my Dad who calmed her. She called everyday after the marriage to find out when I was going to start working. Eventually, I told her I was working for my husband on his projects and contracts and he gives me a monthly salary of N50,000 apart from meeting my other financial demands, it was then she stopped asking. She even sometimes ask me for some money she does not need in order to confirm if I am really getting paid. She is a wonderful Mum but her perception about Sunnah becomes something else due to ignorance and experience she had with some so-called sunnah people. I cannot even imagine what her reaction would be when she hears about this.
“Heard you Abby, I won’t dare tell her. Sir, please let your telling her be after I have left tomorrow”, I plead and he smiles at me. He understands.
I look at the wall clock, “Ummy is supposed to have been back from Masjid, this is 5:30pm, I am so hungry” I mutter as I stand to exit his room.
Abby opens his Qur’an and starts reciting. That is the hubby of my Abu – Qur’an recitation.
As I open the door to exit his room, I bump into my Mum,
“Subhanallah!” I suddenly say
She takes hold of my hand and drags me into her room. ‘I don chop am finish!’ she has been eavesdropping on our conversations…

About Post Author

Ummu Abdillah

Jayeoba Kafayat Modupeoluwa, mostly known as Ummu Abdillah is a Technologist in Electronics and Telecommunication engineering but presently only active as an Islamic writer - so do not bother to ask her about diodes and electromagnetic waves 🤗. Happily married and recently gifted a princess. She is a lover of teenagers and marriage and does make it her occupation to study them. Also, she's a knowledge seeker who loves to learn new things every second and teaches them as well to whoever cares to learn.
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