by Umm Zakiyyah
“I don’t mean any disrespect to her,” he said, as if realizing just then how his statement must have sounded. “I meant that I’m glad I didn’t get to know her as a person because I don’t think it would’ve been good for either of us.”
“Why not?” Salima asked, genuinely curious.
“Because I realize now that the whole thing was just this huge, exciting challenge to me, and most of it had more to do with Jacob than me.”
Salima drew her head back in surprise and glanced sideways at the phone. “Jacob?”
“I know it sounds stupid,” Larry said, laughter in his voice. “But when I first met Aliyah at the restaurant, I was just flirting, you know, being a man. You see a good-looking woman and you just want to find out a bit more about her.”
A tinge of jealousy pinched Salima. “MashaAllah,” she said, more for herself than for any connection to his story.
“But it wasn’t really that deep to me.” He spoke as if he was lost in thought. “I mean, sure, I would’ve married her if it came to that. But not because I really wanted to,” he said. “It would’ve been because it was the natural next step. It was more scientific than emotional. I’d read all these stories about the prophets and righteous people of the past, and I was on a spiritual high. I’d just broken up with Jazzy, and I was ready to experience what being with a real woman was like.”
“A real woman?” Salima said, humor in her tone.
He coughed laughter. “You know…”
“No, I don’t,” she said in lighthearted firmness.
“A righteous woman,” he said, “someone who submits to God and her husband.”
“Can’t forget the husband part,” Salima joked.
“Of course not,” Larry replied, mirroring her joking tone.
“So what does any of this have to do with Jacob?”
“Because he wanted to marry her too.” Larry spoke as if that were the most logical explanation in the world.
“And…”
“And that made her more of a challenge,” Larry said simply.
“I hope you’re joking,” Salima said, half-humored, half serious.
“Sadly, I’m not,” Larry said, embarrassed humor in his voice.
“So that whole thing was just some stupid sibling rivalry, male ego trip?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that…”
“Is there another way to put it?”
“It’s like you said,” he explained. “The more you have, the more you think you deserve.”
“And exactly what did you have at that time,” Salima said, “except a lot of nerve?”
She heard Larry laugh through the receiver. “My own money,” he said, “good looks, a solid track record.”
“A solid track record?” Salima said, chuckling. “You hadn’t even been Muslim that long.”
“I mean with women.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay,” she said, “you were really full of yourself.”
“I know,” Larry said in agreement. “That’s the whole point of me mentioning the Aliyah situation. It humbled me. She wasn’t impressed by any of it.”
Salima laughed out loud. “I can’t say I blame her.”
“Cut a brother some slack,” Larry said, laughter in his voice. “I thought I was doing something good.”
“By trying to marry the woman your brother wanted to marry?”
“It didn’t start off like that.”
“But it didn’t deter you.”
“Of course not. You have to understand,” he said, reflective humor in his tone. “I grew up looking up to my brother. He always had things I could never have. So learning that he wanted to marry Aliyah made her more valuable to me.”
Salima rolled her eyes and shook her head, a grin on her face. “I’m not sure I’m up for hearing all of this,” she said jokingly.
“You’re the one obsessed with knowing every detail of every thought I’ve ever had about any woman,” he teased good-naturedly.
“Well, I’m officially healed from that obsession.”
Larry laughed then said in a more serious tone, “But we weren’t compatible anyway.”
Salima sighed reflectively. “Allahu’alam.”
“Allah knows best,” he agreed. “But I think He made His signs clear on this one.”
“In what way?”
There was a thoughtful pause. “You know that Mark Twain quote?” he said. “Never argue with a stupid person?”
“Because they’ll just drag you down then beat you with experience?” she finished.
“Yes, that one,” he said.
“That’s one of my favorite quotes,” Salima said. “I wish I could find a bumper sticker of it. Then maybe I can stick it to my forehead or something.”
“Your forehead?” Larry said, chuckling, momentarily distracted from his point.
“Yes, why not?” Salima joked. “That way, I’ll never forget it,” she said. “Or I can stick it to my office wall. Because that’s where most of the stupid people are in my life.”
“Well…” Larry said, returning to his point. “Aliyah thought quotes like that put pride in your heart,” he said, coughing laughter. “So she didn’t like it.”
Salima contorted her face. “Put pride in your heart?”
“Yeah…” He laughed again. “Like it made you think you’re better than other people.”
Salima wrinkled her nose. “O-kay,” she said, as if she had no idea what Larry was talking about.
“Exactly.” He huffed. “I swear, that girl was so uptight, it was suffocating.”
Salima grew quiet, uncomfortable with the seamless shift from reflecting on their blessings to speaking badly about their Muslim sister. “Let’s not backbite her though.”
“Backbite her?” Larry said in humored disbelief. “I’m just telling you what happened,” he said defensively.
“I know, but…” Salima didn’t know how to explain the reason for her sudden discomfort with the conversation.
“Sorry,” Larry said sincerely, his voice subdued. “I shouldn’t have called her uptight.”
Salima was quiet as a thought came to her. “You know, Aliyah wasn’t completely wrong about that,” she said finally.
“About what?” Larry said.
“The quote. It can put pride in your heart if you’re not careful.”
“Oh no,” Larry said humorously, in mock dread. “Not you too.”
“Seriously though,” Salima said good-naturedly. “She has a point.”
“You’re joking, I hope.”
“I’m not saying I see it the way she does,” Salima clarified. “But like the Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, said, ‘Actions are by intention.’” She shrugged. “Used in the wrong situation, quotes like that can make you look down on people and reject the truth, which is essentially the definition of kibr.”
“Kibr?”
“Blameful pride.”
Larry was silent for some time. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from,” he said honestly. “But if you think like that, then you’ll stress over everything.”
“Well, like I said,” Salima replied, “I don’t see the quote negatively. But to each his own, you know? Everybody has to do what works for them.”
“Live and let live, huh?” Larry said, humor in his tone.
“Exactly,” Salima said with a shrug. “Unless they’re doing something Allah doesn’t like.”
***
Is the “hot Muslim mistress” now the secret wife? Some people really know how to halalify on the down-low! #MuslimScandal #halalHomeWreckers
JazzyQ and 48 others like this. 13 comments.
Nicole Nikki Willis: Are ya’ll seriously starting this sh*t again? (3 likes)
JazzyQ: Guilty conscience, Nicole Nikki Willis? (24 likes)
Nicole Nikki Willis: This is straight-up backbiting! ‘A’oodhubillaah! (2 likes)
Juwayriah bint Abdullah: Did I mention any names in my status? I just asked a ques
tion. #iftheshoefits (17 likes)
Nicole Nikki Willis: You didn’t have to say a name. It’s obvious who you’re talking about! (3 likes)
JazzyQ: Who would that be Nicole Nikki Willis? You? (18 likes)
Juwayriah bint Abdullah: Nicole Nikki Willis why do you care so much? Are you bi or something? (12 likes)
JazzyQ: ^^^ LMAO (9 likes)
Nicole Nikki Willis: She’s your Muslim sister. Fear Allah. (2 likes)
Juwayriah bint Abdullah: Nicole Nikki Willis in Islam marriage is public. So we have a right to inquire about who’s married to whom. And if a marriage is done on the DL, then we have a right to ask questions! Why all the secrecy? Makes me wonder if all those HMM rumors were true! (19 likes)
Muslimah Amreekiyah: How you get him is how you lose him! I have no sympathy for secret wives AKA halal home wreckers! So tired of the polygyny is halal argument!! (22 likes)
Imrah Wahidah: Muslimah Amreekiyah does that apply to first wives too? They got him thru halal marriage, so they lose him thru halal marriage (when he marries someone else)? (7 likes)
Reem Muhammad: Bismillah. fyi Jacob is divorced from Deanna. Juwayriah bint Abdullah if the wedding you’re talking about took place (and only Allah knows), just keep in mind, you not being invited to a wedding doesn’t make it secret. All Islamic marriages have witnesses. So there’s no such thing as a “secret marriage.” There are marriages you know about and those you don’t. Learn the difference. Neither case implies adultery beforehand. Be careful what you “wonder” about in public. It’ll be on your record on the Day of Judgment. No one is obligated to call every child of Adam after they get married. So if YOU want to know who’s married to whom, pick up the phone and ask them. All this passive aggressive BS on FB is really childish. You’re backbiting and you know it. You can lie to the people, but not to Allah. Muslimah Amreekiyah “polygyny is halal” isn’t an argument. It’s an Islamic fact. If you’re tired of your religion, that’s called spiritual crisis. Get help if you need it. And fyi: There’s no such thing as “halal home wreckers” in Islam. Anything that’s halal brings good. But hating what Allah loves can wreck your home and everything else in your life. And it seems like this whole discussion was started to wreck someone’s home. Is that halal?
Reem’s hands were trembling in anger as she typed the last words then grunted as she pressed enter. She snapped her laptop shut and left it balanced on the comforter covering her legs as she folded her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed in aggravation. She huffed and shook her head in disbelief at the cruelty of these women.
What’s their problem? she wondered, fuming. Why were they so fixated on other people’s lives?
“You still up?” Sayed’s voice was groggy and muffled against the pillow where he lay facing Reem, the comforter pulled over his shoulders.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Reem said softly, her calm voice concealing her annoyance with the Facebook discussion.
“What happened?” Sayed said knowingly, a lazy smile forming on his lips as he squinted his eyes at Reem, his head still against the pillow.
“Nothing,” Reem muttered, shaking her head, arms still folded in agitation.
Sayed slowly sat up next to her then put an arm around her shoulder. “What happened?” he said again, this time more sincerely.
“It’s this stupid—” Reem gestured a hand toward her laptop then huffed before folding her arms again, too upset to explain further.
“Some social media madness again?”
“Pretty much.”
“Anything you want my perspective on?”
She lifted the laptop and handed it to him then resumed her pout, shaking her head in disbelief. When he opened the laptop and silently read the contents on the screen, she grew self-conscious, wondering if she’d handled the situation correctly. Perhaps she had been too impulsive in her response, something she’d told Sayed she was trying to avoid. But it was so infuriating seeing the way Juwayriah and her friends were talking so badly about Aliyah.
“SubhaanAllah,” Sayed muttered, shaking his head at the screen. “Is this why women get social media accounts? To multiply their sins?”
Reem bit her lower lip and glanced at her husband hesitantly, wondering if he’d read what she typed.
“Well, at least you have a few people who seem to fear Allah,” Sayed commented with a sigh, lifting the open laptop and handing it back to Reem. “But I don’t think it’s anything you need to get involved in.”
Reem creased her forehead as she set the laptop back on her legs, looking at Sayed. “You didn’t see what I said?”
“You were part of that discussion?” His eyebrows were gathered in disapproval as he regarded Reem.
“Yes, I thought you…” Her voice trailed as Sayed reached over and took the laptop back and quickly skimmed the screen, scrolling down in search of her name. Seconds later, he frowned, apparently as he re-read what she’d wrote. “Just keep in mind,” he read aloud, causing Reem to cringe and shut her eyes, “you not being invited to a wedding doesn’t make it secret... And it seems like this whole discussion was started to wreck someone’s home.”
At the sound of laughter, Reem’s eyes shot open as she looked at Sayed in disbelief, a hurt expression on her face.
“This short essay is yours?” he said, gesturing his hand toward the long comment, a grin on his face.
Reem opened her mouth to respond but didn’t know what to say.
“It’s fine, habeebti,” he said, leaning over to brush her cheek with a kiss. “It’s the third most sensible comment on the thread.”
“The third?” Reem repeated, unsure if he was mocking her.
“Tab’an,” he said. Of course. “In situations like these, the best advice is shortest and most meaningful.”
“It wasn’t that long,” Reem said, but she detected the uncertainty in her own voice as she leaned over and read her comment again.
“‘She’s your Muslim sister. Fear Allah’ was by far the best comment on that thread, mashaAllah,” he said. “The Prophet, sallallaahu’alayhi wa sallam, was known for giving very brief, meaningful pieces of advice. ‘Love for your brother what you love for yourself,’” Sayed enumerated. “ ‘Laa tagh’dhab. Don’t get angry.’”
“Then what was the second best comment?” Reem said, eyes still on the screen, feeling embarrassed as she compared her comment to the others.
Sayed put his forefinger beneath the comment by the person named Imrah Wahidah, then read aloud, “‘Does that apply to first wives too? They got him thru halal marriage, so they lose him thru halal marriage?’”
Reem wrinkled her nose in disagreement. “Why?” she said. “It’s sarcastic.”
Sayed shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s also a simple, thought-provoking rhetorical question,” he said. “And it takes their faulty logic and throws it right back at them. You’ll find these sorts of rhetorical, thought-provoking questions all throughout the Qur’an and Sunnah, especially in response to people doing or believing things that are wrong.”
Reem sighed. “I see what you mean,” she said. “Maybe I should delete my comment then…”
Sayed furrowed his brows. “Why? There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“But you said it’s a short essay.”
He chuckled. “But it’s a good short essay, mashaAllah. It’ll just come off as a bit whiny and self-righteous,” he said with a shrug. “And no one will probably read the whole thing. But deleting it won’t do any good either.”
“No one will read it?” Reem said, her tone conveying hurt. She had put a lot of thought into what she’d said, even if she had been upset.
“Except the people who don’t need to because they already fear Allah,” he said. “Other people generally have short attention spans,” he said. “And it’s even shorter when it’s something they disagree with. So no, the Facebook fitnah-mongers won’t give it more than a quick skim, then miss the whole point. But they’ll read enough to decide they don’t like you,
” he said with a chuckle. “That, you can depend on.”
Reem frowned, folding her arms over her chest again. “Then what’s the point of amr bil ma’roof wa nahi ‘anil munkar?”
Sayed nodded, as if realizing something just then. “Astaghfirullah,” he said, seeking Allah’s forgiveness. “I shouldn’t have said no one will read it. Allahu’alam. A few probably will. And besides getting blessings for doing what you’re supposed to, that’s the point of commanding the good and forbidding the evil. The reminder benefits the believer.”
“But why do they keep doing that?”
“Who?” Sayed said, looking at Reem quizzically.
“These sisters.” She gestured toward the laptop screen. “You’d think they had enough after all those lies they spread about Aliyah and Jacob the first time.”
“Some people like fitnah,” Sayed said simply.
Reem contorted her face. “But why? It makes no sense.”
“It makes sense,” Sayed disagreed. “Think about it,” he said. “When you’re not doing what you’re supposed to, is what makes you happy connected to what Allah loves? Or something that you personally have strong feelings about?”
Reem immediately thought about her struggle to view Americans as equal to Arabs.
“We all fall into this sin sometimes,” Sayed said.
“Yes, sometimes,” Reem emphasized. “But every single day, all day? That’s stupid.”
“I can’t answer that,” Sayed said thoughtfully. “Because it is stupid. You’re not gaining anything, in this world or the Hereafter, by living like this.”
Reem huffed in annoyance. “I swear, sometimes I wish that sister would change her name.”
