Bad Boy Meets Hijabi

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter 1:

JUWARIYA

I woke up in the middle of the night unable to sleep, probably due to the aloe vera gel in my hair. The next day was a Saturday which was my wash day (#blackgirlscanrelate). My whole wash routine takes me about four hours.

I felt thirsty after a while and went for a glass of water in the kitchen. I had to move quietly so I won't wake my mom up. She can be a total drama queen sometimes.

Scratch that. ALL the time.

I got back to bed, unable to sleep, probably because it's due to all the excitement of me getting admission to study at my dream university or it was just due to the hair gel. This was my first time trying the product and it's just making me so uncomfortable.

That aside. I got a scholarship admission to study journalism at a university in New York City, my biggest dream. I had always wanted to study there. My mom wasn't fond nor happy about the fact that I was going to move to another country to study. Ever since the revelation, we haven't been on good terms.

I had to go back to sleep, so I would wake up for Fajr early or else my mom's going to make a scene.

Allahu Akbar~

Allahu Akbar~

That was the call for prayer on my Muslim pro app.

I stood up from my bed, washed off the hair mask on my hair, performed ablution and woke my younger siblings, Anwar and Kauthar, for Fajr prayer. My parents were already awake and they were waiting in the living for us to pray Fajr together.

My dad prays Fajr at home because there is no Masjid (Mosque) close to my house.

After praying Fajr, I went back to my room and laid on my bed, imagining how my life was going to change once I move to a new country for studies.

I had to get a new job, learn to live alone in a foreign country and do things on my own rather than being told off by my parents. This means I have to take a step forward and act more responsibly of my independence.

"Juwaariyaaaah, mom's calling!" I heard my younger brother's whiny voice and I could feel his tiny hand on my body, shaking me to wake up "Mom's calling you." He repeated several times. I finally woke up, realizing I had dozed off again.

Typical me.

"I'm coming. I'm coming." I groaned as I stood up from my bed and rushed to the living room.

"Juwariya, I'm going to Fatima's house. Today is her daughter's wedding day, so before you go back to sleep, make sure your siblings prepare to go Madrasah (Islamic school)." My mom ordered as she picked up her handbag.

"In Sha Allah mom," I replied.

"Also, until I come back, prepare rice and beans for lunch." I nodded in reply and she proceeded to leave.

My mom is a typical African mom. Her mentality is based on how to raise children the African way and in her eyes, that's the only right way.

My mom is a very strict person. She acts just like those strict African moms being pranked on YouTube by their kids. The videos are rather hilarious but I can never have the courage to prank my mom. The experience would just be crazy and tantalizing.

"Juwariya! Your phone's ringing." Kauthar came running to me with my phone in her hand, waving it in the air.

"What were you doing with my phone?" I asked as I took the phone from her, staring suspiciously.

"Nothing." She replied meekly and turned away. I looked at the phone screen and saw that it was my friend best friend, Kawlah, asking me if I had finished packing up.

I quickly replied to her message and shut it off, placing it on my desk.

Since I wear the hijab, I don't style my hair into Afro or high puff, I also don't like braiding it. Instead, I sleek my hair into a bun using hair gel.

I remember what my mom had asked me to do, so I got my siblings ready for Madrasah. Straight after, I commenced washing my hair.

When I got into the bathroom, I looked into the mirror and saw my kinky curls. I wondered if I would get a man who will love and appreciate my hair rather than criticize it, due to it not being straight. It's just a physical feature of myself that I love the most.

After I was done with my hair, I continued to pack. I had started to pack my things earlier, just so that I won't forget any necessities. I was gonna leave in a week. To say I'm excited is an understatement. Though, I'm feeling a little bit scared at the same time.

Later that day, I left to get some things from the supermarket. When I got home, I saw my younger sister laying on the floor in the living room. She was staring at the ceiling cross-legged and looked slightly dejected.

"Why do you look sad?" I asked curiously while setting down the shopping bags.

"Anwar won't let me play with his toys." She mumbled, huffing in frustration.

"Did you ask nicely?" I turned to her and placed a hand on my hips.

"Yes, I did." She replied blandly.

"Don't worry. I will speak to him."

"Yay! You are the best big sister ever!" She jumped up and squeezed me into a hug. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I am. I'm your only big sister."

**********

A week later and it was Saturday.

Finally, it was the day I was going to leave for NYC. My whole family escorted me to the airport. Kauthar suddenly burst out crying. "I don't want you to go!" She sniffed and hugged me.

"Don't worry. I will visit you soon." I said as kissed her on her forehead, rubbing her back in a circular motion.

Saying goodbye was hard for me, I was going to be alone for the first time in my entire life. I bid the rest of my family goodbye and held back the sudden gush of tears forming.

As I walked away from them, I couldn't help but think of the possibilities of what the future had installed for me.

I was a bit relieved because my best friend, Kawlah was going to travel with me. She had chosen the same university as me. The only difference was that she was not on a scholarship and her family is rich enough to pay for her tuition fees.

Kawlah and I have been friends since primary school. Kawlah is from Morocco, North Africa but her background is Nigerian.

Some people say she is an Arab while others say she is African but Kawlah believes she is an Afro-Arab, a combination of an Arab and African.

We boarded the plane and Alhamdulillah, we landed safely. I took a taxi straight to university while Kawlah, on the other hand, wasn't going to stay in a hostel. She was going to stay at a relative's house.

Out of nowhere, I had a terrible gut feeling about moving to New York City. I kept trying to convince myself that maybe I was feeling like this because my whole life was going to change. No parents by my side, a new city and new people, and new environments. Still, I couldn't get rid of the uneasiness.

When I arrived at the hostel, I was directed to my room. I was super excited to start my new life and I couldn't wait to see what life had planned for me.