Khadijah story side
It had been two months since Mansur and I got to know each other. After a lot of prayers and seeking guidance from Allah, I accepted his proposal. I grew to love him for the sake of Allah. He was religious, God-fearing, and came from a good background. Just last week, he introduced me to his parents. They welcomed me warmly, like I already belonged, and for the first time, I felt a kind of safety I couldn’t explain.
Through it all, I never kept anything from Mom2. She stood by me, guiding me gently, correcting me when needed, and supporting me where it mattered.
One afternoon, Mansur came to visit me, and we sat together talking.
Mansur: Ayomi… when will I come and meet your parents? I want to make this relationship halal. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I keep saying this because I mean it. Please, my love.
Khadijah: It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them… but what if they reject you? What if I get punished for bringing you home? And my education… they’ll be so disappointed that I’m thinking about marriage at this age.
Mansur: But they won’t be disappointed if you get pregnant? Look, I’m doing this because I love you, and it’s for the sake of Allah. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be pushing for nikah like this. Please… let me at least show my face. Once I see their reaction, I’ll know what to do.
Khadijah: I understand… and I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I’m scared. My mom… and my dad… I don’t know how they’ll react.
Mansur: (stands up slowly) I guess you’re not interested in me. Maybe you don’t take me seriously. I should go.
Khadijah: (quickly) Please don’t be offended. Please… I’ll talk to them. I’ll tell them about you. I’m just scared… what if they say no?
Mansur: We haven’t even tried yet. Just say no now, and I won’t disturb you again.
Khadijah: Is it that serious?
Mansur: Yes, it is. You don’t understand how deeply I feel about you. I don’t want to fall into zina. Everything I’m looking for in a woman, I see it in you… but you keep pushing me away.
Khadijah: Okay… okay. We’ll go together on Saturday. That’s my holiday period. We’ll visit them together. How about that?
Mansur: (smiles) Now you’re talking. You know I love you so much… hmm. Oya, smile for me.
Khadijah: (forces a small smile) I should go now. I have an exam tomorrow. I need to read.
Mansur: Alright, my dear. I know you’ll make us proud. May Allah bless you and increase your knowledge.
Khadijah: Ameen… you too.
Mansur: Ameen. Take care. Ma’assalam.
Khadijah: Bisalam.
(On Saturday)
We went to my parents’ house together. They already knew I was coming home for the holiday, but they had no idea I was coming with someone… except Mom2. She had supported me from the beginning.
As we stepped inside, my siblings were in the sitting room watching a movie. They jumped up immediately, hugging me, asking questions. Then their eyes shifted to Mansur.
Sibling: Who is this?
Khadijah: (smiles nervously) He’s… my fiancé.
They froze. The excitement disappeared. Their greetings to him were awkward, almost forced. I could see the doubt written all over their faces.
I asked Mansur to sit while I went to call my parents.
Mom2 came out first, her face warm and welcoming as always. Then my dad followed. He hugged me briefly before sitting down, his expression serious.
Mansur: As-salamu alaykum, sir.
Dad: Wa alaykum salam.
Khadijah: Dad… there’s something I need to tell you. (Her voice trembles, her palms already sweating.)
Dad: Go on, my dear.
Mansur: Sir, I’ll go straight to the point. I’m the one interested in your daughter, and I’m here to ask for her hand in marriage. I know this is sudden, and I sincerely apologize. But my intentions are pure, for the sake of Allah. That is why I came to you.
(My dad goes silent. His eyes move from Mansur to me. I couldn’t even look up. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest.)
Mansur: Sir, please don’t be angry with her. I’m the one who kept asking her to bring me to you. If you allow me, I can introduce myself properly. And even if you don’t accept now… I will try my best to earn your approval. I love her, sir. Please.
Khadijah: (voice shaking) Dad… I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want to make a mistake.
Dad: (slowly lifts his head) Young man… I understand what you’re saying. But do you know her age?
Mansur: Yes, sir. She is 18.
Dad: Good. She just started higher institution. I want her to make me proud, to graduate and have a good job. Bringing a man home at this stage… is shocking.
(Suddenly, the door bursts open.)
Mom1: Who brought a man into this house? Khadijah! So your prostitution has reached this level? You even have the guts to bring him here?
Mom2: Please, calm down—
Mom1: And who is talking to you? Gbeborun! (turns to Mansur) Young man, I hope you haven’t impregnated her. Carry yourself and leave this house now!
Dad: Are you the head of this house or me?
Mom1: Start now! Show him how you treat me! If I carried you for nine months, if I gave birth to you, then tell this man to leave before this house scatters today!
Khadijah: Mommy, please…
Dad: Young man, don’t move until I say so.
Mom1: You want to marry her? This one? Go and find someone your age, unless you’ve already spoiled her!
Mansur: No, ma. I haven’t. I’ve never even seen her without her khimar. I have no bad intentions. Please believe me.
Mom2: There is nothing wrong in this. Instead of zina, she brought someone serious. Think about it carefully. If you reject this and something happens later, it won’t be their fault.
Mom1: Of course you will say that. She’s not your child! Stay out of my family matters, or I will deal with you.
(My dad sighs deeply, shaking his head.)
Dad: Young man… I will get back to you. As you can see, there are mixed reactions. Give me some time. Thank you for coming.
Mansur: Thank you, sir. Please… can she walk me out?
Dad: Of course.
Mom1: She won’t follow anybody! If I count to three—
Dad: Ignore her. Go with him.
(I quickly followed him outside, my mother’s voice still echoing behind me.)
Mansur: Which one is your mom?
Khadijah: The one shouting.
Mansur: (shakes his head) Hmm…
Khadijah: I’m not sure this will work.
Mansur: It will. If your dad agrees, others will follow. Just give me his number.
Khadijah: (hands it to him) I’m going to hear a lot tonight… from that woman called my mother. I just want to leave this house.
Mansur: Don’t worry. All we need is your dad’s blessing. That’s enough. This won’t last forever. I love you so much.
Khadijah: I love you too.
(Mom1’s voice cuts through the air.)
Mom1: Khadijah!
Khadijah: I’m coming!
Mansur: Your mom is something else… I’ll call you later.
Khadijah: Okay.
(I ran back inside.)
Mom1: Come here, you ashewo! (She drags her by the ear into the living room.)
Khadijah: Ahhh! Mommy, please!
Mom1: Kneel down!
Dad: Khadijah, go to your room.
(She quickly runs off and locks the door.)
Mom1: (to Dad) Stop interfering! I’m her mother!
Dad: You’ve been dead to her for a long time. She only respects you because you’re older. The day you push her too far… I’ll sit and watch what happens. And as for that young man, if they truly love each other, I will approve the nikah. I won’t let her repeat your mistakes.
(He walks away, leaving silence behind.)
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