Converting the Bad Boy ✔

Chapter 35

Two updates in one weekend? That's right, folks I did it! Have fun reading 😊

(Completely Edited Chapter)

___________

Damian's POV

"La ilaaha ilallah," I repeated the Imam's words after him, which meant, "There is no God but Allah."

"Muhammadu rasulallah." And Muhammad is His Messenger.

After I said this last part of the Shahada, the Imam and a few other men in the room bearing witness shook my hand, congratulating me and beaming bearded smiles, slapping me on the back, one of them even hugging me. Among these men was the same guy who I first encountered when I stepped foot in this mosque a couple months ago, Abdurrahman Ali I think his name was, and here he was again at my conversion.

"Welcome to the Muslim brotherhood, Damian," Abdurrahman grinned at me as he shook my hand vigorously. "Your name is also an Arabic name, by the way.'"

"Really?" 

"Technically, yes, it is, pronounced Damyaan," he replied. 

"Close enough." Who would've thought that all this time I had an Arabic name? Not me, that's for sure. I couldn't begin to describe this feeling within me, as if everything was sliding into place like the last puzzle piece of a jigsaw. This was who I was now – a Muslim.

"How does it feel?" Nasr asked after congratulating me. It felt like an achievement, and it was all thanks to Mariam, who stood beside her brother, both siblings grinning at me. I was glad they were allowed to stay in the room too, because having people I knew here with me was comforting.

"I couldn't be happier," I responded, shooting them both a genuine smile.

The Imam turned to me and said, "So, Damian, do you know how to pray?"

I shook my head. "Can you teach me?"

The Imam smiled. "That's my job."

After making ablution for the first time in my life, I felt reborn. I had already performed the 'ghusl,' which was basically just a shower that washed away my sinful past like an Islamic baptism, before I came to the mosque, and now I was preparing myself for prayer, the water purifying me from my sins. There sure were a lot of them, and when I told the Imam about this, he said that when a man became Muslim, all his sins were wiped clean and he started afresh. I was pleased to hear this, because that was exactly what I needed. A fresh start in life. A second chance.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I had come to the Mosque with Mariam and her brother, Nasr. Once he heard about my desire to convert he offered to drive us both, picking me up from my house. When we got out of the car Mariam turned to me with an encouraging expression, since I must have looked nervous.

"You ready?" she had asked me.

I nodded. "I was born ready."

Mariam chuckled as Nasr got out of his red car and the three of us entered the mosque. It was scattered with a few people here and there who looked up at me with curiosity as I walked in. We were led into a side room that had a few tables and chairs in it, as well as a few men from the mosque, and that's where my Testimony was pledged.

 After making wudhu, I wandered into the centre of the mosque, taking in my surroundings properly as I waited for the Imam. The dome let in streams of sunlight that reflected off the walls where tapestries with Arabic writing were hung, and a few people were either sitting on the floor reading from a book or praying.  Nasr was looking through some pamphlets, while Mariam was in the women's section reading Quran. I decided to approach her, and when she saw me she stood up, smirking. Hey, only I did that!