Chapter 29

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ZAID'S POV

Hafsa and I were set to get married. The family was happy, I was happy and In Shaa Allah this union would make Allah happy.

We looked at potential dates for our Nikkah, and although we wanted to make it as quick as possible, it didn't seem to be working out.
Hafsa was 23 and studying to become a doctor. While I was an Aalim, my wife was so highly educated that it intimidated me. I knew that it wasn't something to feel inferior about, but I felt as if I should start studying something so that I could provide better for my family. It wasn't fair for me to depend mostly on my wife for a living. I knew that she would have high standards because of her background and I didn't want to deprive her of anything. It was my duty as a husband to provide for her and I knew that my current salary wouldn't suffice.

Although I did work part time at Outdoor Haven so that I could treat myself and my parents once in a while, I wasn't paid much more than R100 a day for that. I couldn't work every day, because I was teaching at a Darul Uloom and therefore had to spend most of my time preparing, studying and actually teaching the Kitaabs that were set for the year. Although I had done it before, revision was vital. I didn't have much spare time besides Saturdays, and being one of the busiest days, they were happy to have a hand to help. I loved being a part of something that involved children and sport, and Outdoor Haven was my home now. Mr R was a kind man and seeing that I was a diligent worker, he didn't tell me to leave even when I was done with my Madrassa days, which he classified as "college years."

This was my first year teaching at the Darul Uloom so my salary and position weren't the best possible, and now that I was going to be wed, I wanted to gain a secular tertiary education. I was considering going into electrical engineering because it seemed interesting, although the Darul Uloom would always be my first choice.

In the end, we settled on November 5, although it was only March. The date creeped me out, being Guy Fawkes and everything, but I brushed the thought aside. I would be happily married soon. I couldn't wait for November to arrive.

Every night, I would sit on my Musallah and make dua that I would have a happy marriage, a happy family and a happy future. I would mention Hafsa in my duas and I would mention our unborn children. I would mention my future parents in law and my future family. I would repeat her name so often now that all else became irrelevant. Every time someone said her name, I would envision her dainty figure and her quiet eyes that reminded me of Tahajjud.

Soon, Hafsa was my first and last thought every day. I no longer thought of Husna, and I had begun to fall deeply, beautifully in love. Loving your wife was different from loving someone that wasn't destined for you, and I had no desire for someone else. I was content and blessed to have Hafsa.

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