Tales of the Sisterhood

Many hopeful couples go through tumultuous times. I've read all these stories and 4 facts stand out for me in particular:

1) If you turn to Allah in sincerity and cry in tahajjud , don't date and sin before marriage , you stand a better chance of having a good marriage life ;

2 ) Drug addicts and womanisers never ever reform .... never ever reform. Don't pin false hopes on such partners. It's a spiritual sickness that has nothing to do with the competency of the partner. As soon as you see the warning signals , place a rock on it

3) It's becoming a norm for men to marry women for lust only and to be treated as an object. Women too, marry for wealth and security. Security is to be found in Allah only , not in marriage.

4) Infidelity of both husband and wife seems to be common nowadays. People don't look for partners who are pious and Allaah - fearing in this regard . Being pious equals being old fashion and poor - qualities that make you a social nit wit. Also, couples don't make an effort to turn to Allah jointly when problems happen , they prefer to rather "move on "

Diary entry #1: Asma

"My name is *Asma. I was once 17, beautiful and ambitious. I was engaged to such a handsome young man with the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. He was so sweet and considerate, and I just couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life with him.

Just a little while before I was set to wed him, I received a dreaded phone call one evening. He had been involved in a terrible motor vehicle accident which claimed his life.

I was devastated. Every single dream I ever dreamed up, became a fleeting impossibility. He was gone, and so was all my hopes for the future.

But a year later, another special guy made an appearance. He charmed me with his tall, dark and handsome traits, and he made falling in love again so easy.

But after I accepted his marriage proposal, his true colours began to emerge. He was no longer the sensitive, caring man I was attracted to. He became controlling, possessive and angry.

Days before the wedding, I had made up my mind to break off the engagement and the wedding.

Sensing what I was planning on doing, he went to my father, and convinced him to allow my fiancé to take me out alone, so we could talk. I didn't want to, but my father was easily won over, as so many others were by him, and I was compelled to go.

En route to where ever he was taking me, he stopped at a relative's house and insisted I go in with him. I waited quietly in the living room, and found it strange how no one was home.

Suddenly, he took a seat next to me, and started touching me inappropriately. I asked him to stop, and when he didn't, I tried to fight him off. But he was too strong.

He backed me up in a corner, and forcibly stole my virginity, right there. I was way to weak against his brute strength. My body went limp as he had his way with me, heartbroken tears streaming down my face. The pain in my heart was so much worse than the painful burn between my legs as he roughly penetrated me.

And as he finished and withdrew from me, he whispered, "now I own you."

I was young and naive, and I didn't think I had much of a choice after that. I had to marry him.

The marriage only lasted a year. And the only good thing I got out of that marriage is my daughter, my pride and joy.

I went back to university to finish my degree, and worked my butt off to get to where I am today.

It took me nearly a decade to remarry. I am so glad I got out, for the sake of my daughter, a gorgeous little girl, a baby her father wanted aborted."

Diaries of the Sisterhood: Entry #2

Nabeela, yours truly

“This is difficult to write. You all know me only by my public persona, a Muslim fiction writer. This is my story, and I pray it opens your eyes and is of benefit to one and all.

I was 17 when I met Thaaqib. He was a student at Darul-Uloom Abu Bakr in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. The Uloom happened to be just around the corner from my parents’ house.

Things moved quickly from the time we first laid eyes on each other, and within weeks, I was someone’s betrothed. It felt strange. I was never meant to be the marrying type. I was set to go to medical school the following year.

But I guess we plan, and Allah plans better. Most of my family was against it. The engagement was meant to last a few years as he also wanted to pursue further studies after completing his imaamat course.

But I guess we were seeing too much of each other, and that brought shame to my family which boasts now more than a dozen ulema and hufaadh, male and female.

I wrote my final matric paper and quickly made nikaah as neither of us were prepared to give up on the relationship.

He left 10 days later to his home country, Kenya, to complete college education.

When he returned, marriage was one battle after the next. He couldn’t get decent work as a foreigner. I was an education student on a state bursary which came in handy.

At his job, he was accused of stealing. I believed it, and just like that, months into marriage, I asked for divorce. He said nothing as I fled to parents’ house. And when I heard he wasn’t guilty, he took me back with arms wide open.

3 years later, our first son was born. He was so perfect. Handsome like his father, and I always made the du’aa for him to become haafidhul Qur’an just like Thaaqib.

We still had our issues. Just as I became pregnant with my second child two years later, things took a turn for the worst when his parents came to live with us for the sake of his mother’s chemotherapy.

I saw myself as a victim, when no one was doing anything to me at all. Fulfilling my duties became a burden to me even though I did it before they arrived. I was a typical, spoilt wife who made a terrible daughter in law.

After our second son was born, I found myself with a 10 day old son, bags packed, waiting for my mother to come home from work as I sat weeping my heart out at her house, my tears falling over my innocent little baby’s face while he breastfed from me.

I only realised when it was too late I was suffering from PND.

This was a common occurrence in my marriage. A small misunderstanding led to me running to my mother complaining about him. I know now involving them im everything was causing the break down of my marriage.

I was taken back home by force, and told to make it work. One night, something, I can’t remember what exactly, ticked me off completely. After a meaningless argument, I turned to him and said,

“There is no feeling in my heart for you except hatred. Just release me already!”

But he never once even thought of uttering those dreaded words. I watched a heartbroken tear roll down his cheek, and slammed the door behind me. I drove off leaving the kids with him.

Eventually I made my way back, giving up. We did have many more falls outs after that which almost ended our marriage, but it never did, shukr.

2 years later, now I thank Allah for him everyday, subhaanAllah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar. He is my pillar of strength and my beacon of light. And I know that there can never be another man to walk this Earth who could ever love me the way he does.

As much as it pains me to say it, I was emotionally abusing my husband.

I couldn’t be more in love today. And I’d like to think I have grown and matured, and I have accepted my faults from the past and moved on.

I was lucky, many a man would have left me, easily. Don’t involve family on petty issues. You may forgive, but they will not.

Appreciate your husband with his flaws and don’t forget to show it every day.”

Diary entry #3: Hamna

"I was married during 2014 and my marriage lasted for like 8 months. It turns out that he is gay and I was just a pathetic cover up.

It has been over a year since he kicked me out, and still I am looking for answers, answers I feel I will probably never find.

We are divorced islamically and there is no going back.

I am so hurt, gutted still, because this is something we wait our entire lives for. We save ourselves for marriage, only to have something like this happen.

I am in tears saying this to you.

Truth be told I could not accept it, I just cannot get it over my heart that he is gay.

Our families have known each other for over 60 years. He is a respectable lawyer, whom I met through his brother in law. Naturally, both families were in favour of the union.

I met him a total of 3 times before a speedy engagement, and nikaah just a
few short months later. He seemed like an established, successful man who knew what he wanted in life, as I did.

To my dismay, I found out that he takes chronic anti-depressants and sees a psychiatrist, something I had no idea about, and I was never allowed to know what he was being treated for.

I was married to a very sick man. I wonder if they really believed as they expected that I could cure him.

From day one, even on the honeymoon nothing happened.

Imagine, a young maiden, all beautified and readied for her wedding night, excited at the idea of consummating your marriage after years of resisting temptation, and not even a kiss.

It was as though he was just not interested. In front of the cameras and and out in public, he would hold my hand, but when we were alone, there was nothing.

In that eight months, he frequently went alone abroad and never took me.

He went to Cape Town once, he was seeing a psychiatrist for therapy that weekend.

I went with him. He was blind in one eye and needed a cornea transplant which I never knew about before marriage. He sat business class as the company paid his ticket while I sat economy.

And he earned a salary of 150 000 and could not put food in the house. I worked and did that.

To add to it, his moods were unacceptable. He was being treated for manic depression, bi-polar depression and border line personality disorder.

He said he was fat as a young boy and is being treated for that. I accepted it thinking it is a sickness. He was my husband, I wanted to support him through thick and thin.

He threw me out thrice, and the last time, after seeing my hesitation, he said if I did not leave he would hurt me. After that day nobody from his family, ever contacted me to try to reconcile.

All I heard after that was how bad I am and how good he is, and how well he has moved on.

From day one his family had and issue, they would never eat anything I took over to eat, even if I bought it from a bakery.

And everything he bought for his sister and niece, yet could not buy food in our cupboards. They had credit cards, they swipe he pays.

Six months of then marriage his dad was sick, and we were weekly at the hospital. And there, his personality was so different. He was nice and charming, to all but me.

So I started thinking what is it with me that makes him this way? What is wrong with me?

I suggested a counsellor, for us work through our barriers, but he simply said that a counsellor wouldn't make him love me.

People from his workplace approached me, saying they knew he is gay. And I could not accept it, no matter how much it broke me. He wronged me in enough ways for me to close that chapter but I still don't know why it pains me so much.

I feel like such a failure. Love is pure, how can it not win? Am I unlovable?

My parents are devastated.

Now it hurts more knowing and he makes sure I get the message that he is flying high. He keeps going abroad, buying luxury cars. He goes around telling people he will get a better wife.

And it should not bother me, but it hurts so bad.

Can he be over it so soon?

Divorce is a sin and I tried to save my marriage but couldn't. How did this happen?

I hurt my parents too.

It feels so unfair that he wronged me, yet this is where he is now, while I am feeling low, sad and struggling emtionally.

Not a day passes me by without crying my heart out.

Shukr, many believe me. I have support.

But it does not change the fact that he wronged me and scarred me for life leaving me with a divorced stigma forever. I am a divorced virgin.

I have tried it all, praying, counselling, holiday get aways, but still my marriage haunts me, and I fear, it always will."

Diary entry #4: Nuhaa

"I long for acceptance. I long for love. I love for happiness.

That was my yearning. The year 2010, the year of both my biggest mistake and my greatest blessing. Being a young girl vulnerable from my ex husband leaving me for another, I made a huge mistake. I had sex out of marriage. This resulted in me falling pregnant. It was a bitter sweet time. The father did what he thought was right and married me. From the start I thought something was not quite right.

The lies, the deceit, the manipulation started soon after marriage. He claimed to have a job. He had none. He claimed to be able to take care of me and his child. He couldn't.

Day by day as my tummy grew, so did my fears. All I did was ask for forgiveness from Allah and made as much duaa as possible. In between I tried being a wife who loved my husband. Little cracks began to show. Cracks that made no sense.

I lived in denial. He was moody, emotional and disinterested in life. He couldn't hold down a job long enough. Some days we had sufficient food. Other days I went to bed hungry. I made shukr for what I had though. I also could not and would not ask for help. It was my shame, my curse to bear, my mistake. I alone needed to face it.

After 9 months I gave birth to what would be my blessing, my reason for living. That is where the worst began.

After being married for almost a year, I was called in by my in laws to "address" an issue. My husband was on drugs and needed help. It all made sense. I knew what I had to do, I had to help him. That is afterall what a good wife would do. I attended meetings, loved him, supported and aided him. I held his hand. He was unable to be a father and husband. I took on the role of mother, father and breadwinner. I was what was needed. It was a tumultuous time. After 2 years I called it quits. I just couldn't anymore.

I had no money- he had used it all for drugs. I had no possessions- he had sold them all for drugs including my mahr. I had no self respect- he had raped me whilst under the influece of drugs. I had no friends- he had flirted with them. I had no home- he had not paid the rent in ages. I had nothing. I felt like nothing.

I returned home to my parents with my baby. I walked away. I sat day after day feeling ashamed. I was once again divorced and living at home with a child. My husband soon after chose a single life. He left both my baby and I and never looked back.

It's now 4 years later.

I sit looking at my baby again. She has grown, ready to go to school next year. I am proud of her. She is playing with her father, the man I married last year.

I am now expecting his baby, and bursting with excitement. I look at him and I smile. Allah has blessed me afterall.

My husband has taken my child as his own. No one would even know. He calls her his daughter and she calls him daddy. He is a father. He may not be her biological father but he is much better. I smile.

I am accepted. I am loved. I am happy."

Diary entry #5: Nazeerah

"2006 is where it all began. I met Fayaaz at a wedding when I was still very young and ready to take on life. But that was not the beginning of our 'story'.

Fayaaz was the stud of his town. A handsome boy who had the charm, the class and the cars to match any girls dreams. And that he did well.Through my friendship with him I always swore to him that I wouldn't get married to him.

But little did I know Allah had His own plan. After 8 years of friendship there I was, marrying him and killing many girls' dreams.

Our wedding weekend was perfect in every sense of the word, from the colours of the flowers to the smiles on everyone's faces, it was just beyond what I had imagined it could be. We left for our honeymoon shortly thereafter, and it was the first time I would sit on a plane. Even that too was beyond perfect.

It was all too good to be true. And it was true, because 2 weeks after we returned, Fayaaz' elder brother, his best friend, and the apple of his father's eye, Muhammad, had passed away at just aged 23.

Everything was crazy. The tears kept falling, and the shock was overwhelming. It was anything but perfect.

Time had passed us by spending time with Muhammad's wife in her iddat. It took a toll on our fresh marriage. Growing as a couple was hard as one could imagine. Family needed to take priority. Some days it was good, other days it seemed impossible, but we got through it.

It made us stronger, but with it came the realisation at how short life is. That realisation triggered something in Fayaaz. His brother had passed away on a Thursday night after maghrib Salaah, reciting his kalima ever so clearly.

Fayaaz kept on wondering, how does he meet that honour?He kept on trying to find that turning point, and he did.

In the time we grew as a couple and found US, we soon received the wonderful news that we were expecting a baby. Exciting moments lay ahead of us we made plans for our little joy. We had chosen names, doctors, hospitals, but again, who are we to plan?

Fayaaz was taken aback by all that was happening around the world, the killing of Muslims, children, women like it didn't matter. It bothered him that we call ourselves one but we don't lose a wink of sleep over the bloodshed of our brothers.

And so he just had to go, to try in some way make a difference.

I was 5 months pregnant. Letting my husband go was the hardest thing I had to do. But he would be back in no time, and he would be able to name his little girl. I had found out shortly after he had left that we were expecting a little girl.

I waited anxiously to hear from him.And then I did. His call came reminding me that he missed me and that he loved me, but he told me, "if you need anything from this day on my wife, ask Allah and ask Allah alone" and he hung up.

On Friday the 25th October I received the most shocking news. Fayaaz had become a shaheed, a martyr in the blessed lands of Sham, modern day Syria. My heart had just sank. I didn't know if I wanted to cry because my heart had just shattered, or if I wanted to keep it together for his parents who only 18 months after the death of their first son, had just received the news of the second.

Or did I want to be happy for him? Out of all the people out there, Allah had hand picked him to be a matyr. Fayaaz, the apple of his mother's eye, had just left us way too soon.

And there I was, a widow in my iddat, awaiting the arrival of my daughter. When the pains of her arrival had started, I rushed with both my mothers by my side, my mother and fayaaz' mother. They didn't leave my side.

25 hours later, baby Zainub was born. She was Fayaaz' child but she looked exactly like her late uncle Muhammad. Allah had gifted us for our sorrow. And now, my Zainub is 2 years old.

I'm still living with my in laws. My life is imperfectly perfect. I say that because I've been blessed with amazing parents and family who don't ever slack in their support. And Allah has given me the greatest in laws I could ever ask for, so great that I find it hard to call them in laws.

From Fayaaz' granny to his aunties, his cousins, his amazing sisters and parents, they've all become mine, together with my own parents and family.

Zainub and I are surrounded by a mammoth loas of support. Allah has not left me alone, because He never will.

But when all the world goes to sleep and my little Zainub settles in for the night, than my tears flow because then reality has time to set in. i lay in a cold and empty bed, all alone. I'm reminded that he has passed his test and I have supported him, but where is he now to support me and tell me that it will all be okay?

People tell me that years from now, I won't feel as empty, as lost and as heartbroken as I feel.

But where is he to help me answer my 2 year old doll when she begs me to please phone her daddy to come and play with her? Where is he when she is continuously looking and absorbing his absence?

Yes he is under the arsh, the throne of Allah, I remind myself about his battle. And this, this is my battle. This is what Allah has hand picked me to do, because he made me to be strong enough.

And then I wipe my tears, and instead of asking Allah why, I thank him. I thank him for making me who I am today, because had it not been for my loss, I would have never found Allah the way I had. Allah has made it such that I can only rely on him. He has taken away my direction, and He is now my only compass. He will never abandon me or my little Zainub."

Diary Entry #6: Aniqa

"I was a very homily girl growing up, but with an outgoing spirit. My mother, my best friend was diagnosed with cancer when I was just 9 years old. I thought my life would end, but Allah blessed her with many more years Alhamdulillah.

At the age of 17, I attended design school and my friend, at the time, had a very good looking, ever so charming cousin, and I just happened to catch his eye.
Not knowing much about him, apart from knowing he came from a good family, I fell in love.

We started dating and about 2 years later, I gave into the pressure of dating a guy way more experienced than myself and we sinned before marriage.

At the age of 19, on the day of my birthday, we got engaged, but little did anyone know I was already 4 months pregnant.

This news had me so petrified. I was so sure that if the cancer didn’t kill my mother, this surely would. It was August and Ramadhaan was set to start in a month or so, and I would soon be visibly showing. The only way out was to come clean and tell everyone what was going on.

Needless to say my mom was devastated. So was dad.

We got married exactly a month later. My husband had been the most loving, charming guy ever right up until our wedding night. It was as if a monster had taken over his body. He was abusive in every way possible.

Soon after, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. It didn't change a thing. If anything, it made things worse. He wouldn't work, help out at home, or look after the baby. He was on drugs and the abuse just kept on coming.

Five months later, my best friend, my mother, had lost her battle with cancer and my world fell apart. The one person I could always count on, who was there for my daughter and I always, was gone. I was 19, a new bride, and mother to a 5month old, and I was staying with my in-laws.

Things just became progressively worse. He started to cheat on me. There were times when there was no food, but I made away to feed my daughter. So much happened over the years, but I was determined to make it work. I would not be a statistic, a young divorced woman with a kid.

About 5 years later I conceived our second daughter.
I became hopeful that thing would get better, but he came home one evening after work, much later than expected and said, "I've had enough, I’m not happy and my happiness comes first.”

My baby was only 6 months old. I was at a loss for words. It turned out he was sleeping with a much older woman for months, and it was clear that that was where his happiness lay.

It was a Saturday evening when I called my dad, packed our stuff and set off back home with my two kids. Alhamdulillah, Allah knows best.

The following Thursday, while walking home from the shop with my oldest daughter, my phone rang and it was him arguing about something, I can’t recall what exactly, but as soon as I hung up a text came through ...

“I talaaq you Aniqa, 3 times. Talaaq, talaaq, talaaq!”

And just like that, it was finally over, all my blood, sweat and tears that I put into my marriage was signed away by one text.

But, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. If I could carry on without my mother, surely I could survive without that dead-beat. I went home and told my dad and granny everything, breaking my silence, without a tear shed.

Days later he called with a giggle to tell me he got married again. I suppose he wanted to rub salt in my wounds.

But a few years later, I met a beautiful soul, a REAL man, and I married him. He takes my daughters as his own. And we have another beautiful little girl together.

Alhamdulillah for everything."

Diary entry #7: Faaiza

Let's spread some positivity tonight...

"My story began March of 2010. After what seemed like forever, I accepted a proposal after falling hard for the hubster, Alhamdulillah.

Two months after seeing him for first time, we made nikaah on a beautiful Sunday. It was the first of many things for me, the first time I held a guy's hand, the first time I hugged a man against my body, my first kiss... I couldn't have asked for a better partner to have done all my firsts with.

Alhamdulillah, Allah has truly blessed me with all I desired, from my husband to my new family. In laws is the customary term but they are more than that. They accepted me whole heartedly and not once have I ever felt like a daughter in law. I am their daughter.

I gained a mother, a father and a sister along with the family. My mother by marriage is the kindest woman I know. I have only received kindness, love, compassion, encouragement and advice from her. Mum is my rock, my friend and my support. I am blessed to have her in my life.

Here's my advice my dear sisters: Have faith. My faith in du'aa is absolute. Everything I have made sincere, constant du'aa for, I have received, and then some. Du'aa is a powerful weapon for the believer.

We can have happiness, we just have to make du'aa and slave away for it, and work towards it. Patience and du'aa goes a long way.

May Allah grant us all our hearts' desires in this world and the next, aameen.

Ma asalaam."

Diary entry #8: Roula

"I was once a young, innocent, naive girl. I loved my friends and family and never worried about boys. Then one day, along came a handsome boy, and I fell crazy in love. I was about 15 years old then.

He was a bit possessive and got angry if I did anything he did not approve of. But being so in love with him, it didn't matter. I even cut ties with my friends whom he did not like for his sake.

However, he had taken advantage of the love I had for him and would make me prove it by doing sexual activities with him, pleasing him whenever he desired. I even sent him pictures of myself, reluctantly.

I was fortunate in that he had at least that much of respect for me and didn't tell anyone about it or share it.

But he did not love me.

He used me for my body. Eventually he got tired of me and made the excuse that his parents wanted him to focus on his studies. Now I see him with his new girlfriend, praising her in front of everyone, showering her with gifts.

Dear sisters I have gained back my friends, but not what he took from me. But I want to share this with all the young girls who are still innocent and naive. Do not let a boy take advantage of you, and if he asks you to do any sexual activities, do not give in and be firm with a straight no. You are worth more than that."

Diary entry #9: Naseeha

"After 5 months of separation, confusion, mixed emotions, sleepless nights and endless du'aa, the message finally came with an image attached of the 'statement of divorce'.

I stood there with utmost shock as I read out the message and eyed the attached image. All I could think about was, is it really over?

Immediately, I read the du'aa taught to Umm Salamah (R.A) by our beloved Nabi Muhammad S.A.W: "Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji`un. Allahumma ajirni fi musibati, wakhluf ni khairun minha (We belong to Allah and to Him we shall return. O Allah! Compensate me in my affliction, recompense my loss and give me something better in exchange for it.)

Although I wanted this divorce as things between my ex husband and I kept getting worse each day, it felt as if my heart, body and soul were shattered into millions of pieces. Tears kept coming out of my eyes whenever I was left alone. The first week dragged, so did the second and the third.

My only form of solace was when I sat alone on the musallah while everyone was fast asleep and I cried my heart out.

Day by day with the help of Allah, I managed to get stronger and stronger. I kept myself busy with some hobbies whilst making continuous zikr, as this helped me forget the reality of the matter. As the days and hours passed, I kept thinking of how I could've or should've been a better wife and perhaps done things differently. I kept thinking about every detail of my marriage.

After a year of marriage, a year of losing myself completely, I finally got the courage to walk out of my husband's house and step out of this strange but sometimes nice relationship called marriage.

My year of marriage was filled with countless tears, lonely nights and long days, endless misery and some good memories too. I felt more alone in my marriage as compared to when I was single. Many nights, I slept alone, many days I ate alone, and so to say, I lived alone.

I longed for companionship from my husband, for his attention, for his love, for his time but all I got instead was endless criticism, nasty comments and insane mood swings. There were compliments and good memories too but weighing them out there were definitely more bad memories.

I was never good enough no matter how hard I tried. I was always placed at the bottom of his priority list. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, until eventually, I lost who I really was. I went from being a bubbly and friendly person to a quiet, reserved, sad person who lost all her self-confidence, self-worth and self-esteem. I felt almost stupid and worthless.This was when I realized I had to do what was best for me and get away.

Emotional abuse is far worse than physical abuse as broken bones heal, but broken minds are hard to fix. I was in denial, I kept telling myself that it's impossible, I'm not in an abusive marriage, things will change and get better with time but in fact it only got worse.

As my second month of iddat passed I dealt with my anger and all my different emotions. I finally started accepting the fact that I'm now a divorcee and free from it all. Ironically, free as I was, there were times where I missed him so much and I didn't even know why. Was I missing the abuse? Was I missing the tight hugs in the middle of the night which made me forget the reality of the situation? Was I missing the fact that I gave my world for someone else besides me? What was I really missing?

I still don't know.

As I came into the last month of my iddat I was stronger than ever and ready to face the world, until... One afternoon my sister came with the most shocking news ever that my ex husband had remarried overnight.

As I heard this, my legs had an instant tremor, my throat had a huge lump, and my eyes filled with tears that had to be hidden. I just couldn't believe what I heard. I know he is allowed to marry and there's nothing wrong with him re-marrying, but I just couldn't help but wonder if she was the reason I got what I got? Was she the reason behind it all? Was she the reason I cried so many tears?

I felt completely shattered, broken, betrayed, let down, insulted, frustrated and angry. I worked so hard to accept and deal with everything and as I was almost at the finish line I had to deal with this.

What made it worse is that he kept telling me to go back to him right until a week before his nikaah, and this threw me off track and I felt like my world around me was crumbling all over again. I felt angry at him for every little thing that he'd done to me. I cried to Allah to help me through this ordeal and accept it too.

Allah Almighty made me realise in just a matter of days that this was all part of my taqdeer. I can never question it because what was meant for me would never miss me and what missed me was never meant for me.

A friend then forwarded me an ayat from the Holy Quraan which made me feel so much better it said "Do not lose heart against the heaviest of trials and never be in a state of grief, for you are bound to succeed if you are true in faith" (3;13 al-Quraan). I picked myself up and said this is not how my story is going to end, I will have full faith in Allah! His plans for me are far better than my plans for me.

With this I managed to end my iddat in peace and accept it all, the drama, the trauma, the happiness, the sadness, the pain, and the gain.

Iddat is an amazing compulsory act in which Allah allows you to reflect on what has transpired, to accept the will of Allah and most importantly, to heal all the wounds that were inflicted upon you. My divorce will always be a part of me and the scars will remain forever, however I make du'aa to Allah to grant me the perfect companion who will be good for me, for my imaan, my well-being, my family, my kids, and for my life in this world and in the Aakirah. Aameen.

May Allah accept my iddat and make it easy for all those who are in iddat and those who are in abusive marriages."

Diary entry #10: Qaysara

"I got married at 20 to the man of my choice. He was 23 when we got married,everything was perfect He was good to me, though we had our ups and downs like any marriage. 6 wonderful years passed and we had 2 beautiful kids alhamdullilah,I thanked Allah everyday for our wonderful home.

Then, in our 7th year, things started taking a turn for the worst. The blackberry made its appearance and things started going downhill.

My ex would sit on his phone all the time. He went from being the most patient father and husband to the complete opposite. He would get edgy and snappy with the kids and I if we tried to get his attention.

I would ask what it is he is doing on his phone, and he would say playing games or reading football news. At times, I would find him smirking at his phone and started getting paranoid but thought maybe he's chatting to friends. I never ever thought he would be chatting to woman, I trusted him.

Then things started getting even worse. When visitors came he wouldn't even come to speak to them, he'd be to busy on his phone. If we fought he wouldn't even have time to think what he was doing to us because the phone entertained him. Our marriage was falling apart.

I would nag as he called it daily about him been addicted to his phone, but he saw otherwise.

In the 8th year of marriage things got even worse yet. He would hide his phone when he slept. He would never leave it unattended even whilst it was charging. In the middle of the night I would search for it whilst he slept, and it would be under his pillow.

The fights and screaming matches were becoming a daily routine. Our kids were getting used to it, it was like normal for them which wasn't right.

He would tell me countless times he could not stand me, he didn't want me as a wife and obviously I would retaliate with bad mouthing right back in defense. That became the norm.

We had a fight was on eid day, it was youmul jumu'ah also. He fought with me on eid day and I recall crying and asking Allah to take me away from this, everyone is happy on eid day and he was screaming at me and fighting with me. I even missed lunch with family which didn't bother him in the least.

He may have not bothered but almighty Allah heard my cries and saw my tears. That Sunday, we had yet another argument in which he walked out and at the door, he uttered 3 talaaqs, and in a split second it was all over. Almost 9 years of my life had ended in a few seconds.

Then that very day a female "friend" called his father to say my ex is unstable and to watch he doesn't do anything stupid to himself. I still didn't think much of it because he tried finding out if we could get back together which all moulanas said will be forbidden.

Then 3 months later I hear he made nikkah. Whilst I'm trying to get over the hurt and pain, he makes nikkah, then 5 months later they expecting a child. I could not handle it.

To the world I looked fine, but it was hurting inside like crazy.

Then the 9 months passed and it was time for their baby to be born. I was beyond myself and begged Allah to send me a partner who will make it easier for me, who will be a good parent to my 2 kids and a pillar of strength for me and again Allah the Most Merciful heard my cries and answered my du'aa.

A month before my ex baby was born, the most calm, wonderful and caring man entered my life and 2 months later, we married and he helped me through all my pain and made me feel so at peace, that I forgave my ex and this woman for Allah loves those who forgive.

We are married 2 years and have an addition to our family, a little baby girl who completes us alhamdullilah.

May Allah keep our muhabbah, understanding and marriage bond strong, and may Allah keep us on the right path inshaaAllah.

My dear sisters who are in the same situation, don't loose hope, Allah is there always, He hears and sees all our pain and remember, it is said in the quraan 'verily with difficulty come ease'.

May Allah make keep us all well and remove all our difficulties inshaaAllah."

Diary entry #11: Najwa

"I met *Riyaad 13 years ago. We had a whirlwind romance, it was everything a girl could ask for and more, but like they say if it seems too good to be true it probably is.

I was warned numerous times over the next few years about his wandering eye, but I chose to ignore people and what they were saying. That was, until the dreadful first time I caught him cheating on me. We had been together a few months then. I wasn't devastated as such but I was sad and angry because I always said I would never date or be with a guy who cheats on me. Fast forward a few weeks, and we were back together.

He has cheated on me more times than I can count and hit me more times than I wish to remember.

Eventually we got married and the following year we were blessed with a beautiful baby boy. I thought being married and a father would settle him but to my dismay, he just continued with his escapades. The confrontations used to get so bad he used to end up slapping me solidly a few times and tell me he hit me to calm me down. It got to a point whereby I used to dress up and wait for him to acknowledge me but it never came.

I lost weight and still nothing. I got pregnant again after 3 years thinking okay, this is the girl baby he wanted for so long now he's finally going to change. Gosh was I wrong. It just got worse. I once overdosed myself because I felt like I was losing my mind and just needed to get away from it all. He found me disorientated the next morning with my suicide note still in my hands and just looked at me and said if that's what I want, I must do it when he can take care of the kids and not go to work.

I will never forget that day he left me alone with a 4 year old and a baby in that state. Most of the time I wonder if that shocked me into stopping my madness and start fighting for us. To say it was the hardest thing ever to read or hear what your partner told other women is an understatement. It is heartbreaking and stomach churning to hear details of his nonsense and yet, I chose for him to tell me about each and every encounter he has had irrespective of whether it hurt me or made me stronger.

His last escapade was almost 3 years ago. It was the most painful because it lasted the longest and his family even knew about her, and that hurt me more than I could ever explain to anyone. I had finally had enough this time. I would stand up and hit back. I think this shocked not only me but him as well. I was tired of fighting for someone that was lawfully mine. I packed up and headed home to my parents.

This for him was the shake up he finally needed to realise how close he was to losing his family. Fast forward 3 years, and we are happy again. We have just welcomed our new baby girl into our family 3 weeks ago. He has changed so much that people who have known us for years and knew my struggle cannot believe how much he has changed. We, his family, now come first. I wrote this as a testament that sometimes people are worth fighting for and if given the chance, even a compulsive cheater can change."

Diary entry #12: Fatima

A letter to my Allah.

"This is really hard for me. I feel lost and this time it feels like I can't find my way back. I’ve hit rock bottom and although the ground is hard and dirty, it feels so much more comfortable down here.

I'm searching for a place I can escape to outside of my mind. Where the path leading to You is easier to find.

Sometimes you fall so hard that you can't get up or you lay down for so long that you forget how to get up. Sometimes the bruises of life are so many that a slight bump aches behind the pulse of blood.

I feel like that. I feel like I can't reach out to You. I feel like I have oppressed myself to such an extent that I don't know the meaning of light anymore. That the darkness of my sins have enveloped me to such an extent that I'm blind, wandering aimlessly, searching for a small tinge of light.

I have been eating salt for years and now, my throat has cracked. I'm searching for water to quench this unbearable thirst. But the dark has left me blind, so I can't find my way and I can't find the river which leads to You. I feel too ashamed to lift my head to You, to ask You, so I just keep it lowered, somewhere in the dirty earth.

Qassam, the distance is killing me. Being cut off from You feels like having my veins cut off. The pain and agony is so intense that I feel like pausing the beat of my pulse, just until I find my way home. Just until You enter my veins again, then I'll be revived. I never knew heartbreak until I disappointed myself by disappointing You. I feel like this time, I can't run back. Like even if I tried to, I'd stop halfway and just turn back in shame. How many times does a slave go back crawling to its Master? How many times does the Master accept the slave?

My dear Allah, I know that if I were to crawl back to You, You'd accept me. I know You'd catch this falling slave before she hits the ground or that You'd make the ground soft, so that the fall is not so bad. I know You'd wipe away the sorrow and cure the scars. I know You'd remove the heartache to such an extent that I'd forget it ever existed. I know You'd give me back my light, to see and recognize the darkness and turn the other way, when it hits. I know You'd quench this intense thirst. I know You'd cause the sun to warm me again and I know You'd save me from this desert storm.

This dunya is my prison and I can't wait for it to be over. Oh, I can't wait to wake up to a place where tears don't exist. Where heartbreak is buried and death no longer lives. Where the bitterness of sin, has no taste at all and the only taste you get is the pleasure of your Lord. Where joy is my ever-lasting companion and struggle is no more. Where peace fills my air, inch by inch, where the goal has been conquered and reached. Oh yes, Its so close that I can even smell it.

So close, yet so far. So close, yet so far...

But it’s not yet time. It’s not yet time to meet this place. So I'll wait. And face my prison battlefield each day, with hope and fear that one day, I'll meet You at the finish line and that You will be pleased with me.

The desire to give up is ever lingering, but the excruciating desire to meet You overpowers. So let me re-begin my journey. Let me start this thousand mile walk again and again and when I fall let me be reminded of Your words: 'O mankind, indeed you are toiling, painfully toiling towards your Lord and will meet Him.'"

Entry #13: Shaazia

“I am a 20 year old, heartbroken and helpless woman. This is my story.

The most important thing in my story is the fact that my father is Hindu. My mother married him with high hopes, but unfortunately through society’s judgement he could not see the beauty of Islam. He turned into a psychopath who abused her emotionally and physically. He tortured her mental state and she tortured him too. I witnessed abuse upon abuse. They tortured me mentally and scarred me for life.

My life took a bad turn at the age of 9. I lost my granny, pillar of strength. The mother my own would not, or could not be to me. I had no way of coping anymore. I was teased and made fun of at school because I celebrated Diwali and Eid, because some days I had a scarf, others I didn’t. I was the kid who was neglected, and it showed. I was the one who either had no lunch, or the sloppy looking sandwich I made myself. I was the one with mismatched and creased clothes. Yet I still would average in the top ten every year, but even this did not allow my parents to acknowledge me.

At the age of 12 I met him through a family occasion. It was love at first sight, and he loved me unconditionally. We pursued a relationship later on until I was 16. Then hormones kicked in, and I wanted to settle and get married, but he had other ideas. He also wanted to get physically intimate but I was not ready. It became frustrating and toxic, yet we carried on. In that very year, my parents regressed to teenagers. My father pursued hobbies and my mother pursued Facebook and men.

At 17 I had many scars both internally and externally. I self mutilated, and my toxic relationship was destroying me but I could not let it go. I needed him too much.

Eventually I left school to try and get out and a head start at life. I began working with the hope that it was temporary, until he marries me. All I dream of is a family home with an Islamically inclined husband, who can guide me. I wish to be a housewife, rabbatul-bait. I love to cook and bake and clean, and I would love a little baby to complete the picture. I thought this would happen when I met my husband, the man who was my best friend. When he proposed I knew he was the one as the relationship was not toxic to me. Unfortunately, I learnt he was a former drug addict, yet I continued to marry him.

Soon after marriage came yet another obstacle. Someone hated me enough to pursue black magic against me. With this I suffered over a year, even losing a baby. This left scars in my marriage, and my husband and I both began to take the occasional drug. I was not very Islamically educated as we weren’t allowed to go to madressa and my mother would not teach us either. But through Allah’s divine mercy, He led me to Him, and things improved. Although I was still unhappy as my husband was not who I thought him to be. He was a cold person who would not support me emotionally in any way, but I was content.

The last twist and the reason for me writing... I recently found out he was doing drugs behind my back, though he made promises to reform and I believed him. But now he has turned to alcohol. I feel lost and helpless, I cannot turn to family for help. They have turned me away. I married with hopes and dreams of simplicity but instead I am still working to pay the rent, and cover the debts incurred by his drug abuse. I have yet to conceive again, and I am completely alone as I have tried discussions with my husband but unfortunately pride does not allow him to see the destruction in our marriage.

Here is where you judge me. Remember him, yes, my ex who wanted me to sleep with him? I tracked him down on social media and we chatted a few times. But he has moved on. I send him countless messages but he wants nothing to do with me. I left him he keeps saying.

I feel totally alone.

I am a 20 year old woman, with a mother remarried and with a man who will not keep me. I have father who isn’t Muslim and is emotionally abusive, where do I go?

I have threatened many times to leave this marriage, but yet I am still here in the same place. I am afraid of loneliness and being unloved. I am afraid this is my only chance at life. If I leave who will marry me, a girl with Hindu origins, whom no one would think of proposing to me as I would be divorced.
I have a destroyed life, and yet all it was meant to be, all I ever wanted, was simple, a small home with Islam at the forefront.

I am lost, Allah. Help me...”

Diary entry #15

Shireen

"Whenever I see a mum and daughter being affectionate in public, I go home and cry myself to sleep. Maybe because I have yearned for that more than anything else in my life.

As far as I can remember my mother has been angry towards me. I don’t know why. She’s been the perfect mum to my brothers. With me, it’s always “you’re ungrateful, you’re good for nothing, I don’t know what sin I committed to give birth to you, must be your fault”.

These are the words I have grown up hearing. There’s never been a day my mother has been involved in my life, she has never asked me how my day was or doesn’t even know the demons I fight every day.

She would often shout me in public and embarrass me. I have zero self confidence, I always feel no one loves me , and I have often thought about suicide or running far , far away.

Whenever I read Salaah I just break down and ask Allah SWT to heal me. I am now well into adulthood and those wounds are still there. I try to be respectable towards her but that’s a battle. I refuse to accept her behavior towards me. I keep telling her that respect is earned. I do understand and I do know that Jannah lies under her feet but trust me, unless you’ve been in this vicious abuse you won’t understand.

I could not even confide in anyone as everyone would just brush me off and say “it’s your mother, keep quiet” without understanding the crux of our relationship. In front of people she tells everyone I don’t have time for her yet she’s the one that pushed me away, she’s the one that never had time for me, she’s the one that prioritized everyone but me, she’s the one that told me I am lying when my teacher sexually abused me.

She still gives her best behavior to this teacher whenever she sees him at social gatherings, while I die a little more inside. I remember once I got home late from work and wasn’t in the mood to visit a family friend and she told me I am jealous because my friends are getting married and I am not. I was so startled at her assumption, I cried once again until I fell off to sleep. The next morning she threw a tantrum and told my dad she doesn’t know why I am angry with her.

As for my father, he’s just been the silent father. He saw to our every need financially, now and then mum would brainwash him or fill his ears about me and put pressure on him to scold me and he would shout without hearing my side. This use to break me every single time. Until one such day where I cried to my late granny and she reprimanded my father. He hasn’t shouted me since.

I have never received a hug or kiss from my parents except for birthdays, and then too it’s so forced. Yet with the rest of the world my mother is overly affectionate, and with my brothers too her affection has no boundaries. Naturally, I have grown up to be a very cold person, I find it difficult to show emotion, difficult to tell people how I feel.

I just thought I could deal with all of that when I was hit with another blow. I overheard my mother fighting with my dad on the phone once and when I approached her in the kitchen she told me my dad told her today that he had a mistress and a 27 year old son all along. She wept bitterly and then wanted to go to her room alone.

I couldn’t believe what I heard, the same dad the family looked up to, the same dad that didn’t lay a hand on me, the same dad I loved the most, I too felt cheated, hurt, disappointed, angry, and it took me months to deal with this. I had no one on my side besides Allah SWT. My mother didn’t want my brothers to know and didn’t want me to approach my father, so it was never discussed at home.

Everytime I overheard my dad talk to his other “son” it would kill me a little inside. One day I even saw him take a turn to that street to visit this mistress, when I got home and told mum she immediately called dad and he lied and said “I’m on the highway”, that left me bleeding.

Everyday is a constant battle. I think I am handling it worse than my mum. I keep wondering where he is and with who he is, I keep checking this other “son's" profile to see if he has pics of my father with his family. My mum told me she forgave my dad and can't forget all the things he has done for her. He even told her how he got into this sin and this relationship. I just feel my mother is still being made a fool of.

No matter what, she is my mother and no matter how tumultuous our relationship is we have a bond. Although I am “raw” inside I forgive her for all the hurt she is going through and shes possibly going through much worse now.

As for my dad, I just feel detached now, I just feel broken inside, I just feel I cant trust him anymore. I wish he realizes his mistake and repents before its too late…

The reason I write this is for people to realize that “all that glitters isn’t gold”. Don’t ever envy anyone as you never know what they are going through, don’t ask Allah SWT to grant you a life like so and so as you might never ever know what pain they dealing with daily.

For single people I would advise you to make dua during tahajjud, to ask Allah swt to only grant you a partner if its best for you.

For mothers: your daughter is a blessing, don’t ever abuse her or undermine her worth.

For cheaters: The guilt you live is never easy to deal with, you will never find contentment in your life.

For daughters: Do for Allah’s pleasure and he will give you from his treasures.

For sons: Don’t be so caught up with wordly things that you fail to see the plight of your parents and family. Remember as a son your responsibility is your wife and your MOTHER."

Diary entry #16

Naahid

"I was fourteen years old. My cousin's friend seemed rather fond of me. He use to come home daily just to catch a glimpse of me, and as our eyes met, he smiled cheekily and winked. I was so young.

I never kissed a boy before, I never had a boyfriend. I never even touched a boy. One day he force kissed me. He grabbed my face and planted a hard kiss on my lips. I didn't enjoy it at all. He hurt my cheeks.

I felt dirty and cried. Shocked by my reaction, he then said he loves me. What did I know about love? He told me he wants to hold me, amd touch me. He said he wanted to make me feel good. He always insisted on the fact that there would be sex, no penetration. I was confused. He wouldn't take no for an answer, so I felt forced. I let him.

Then one day, before I knew what he was trying to do, before I could stop him, he forced himself right into me and I was bleeding. I cried, amd I said, "you took my virginity! Now you have to marry me!"

But he didn't care. He had no intention of marriage. I was totally broken. I was forced to see his face daily.

At the age of seventeen, I got engaged to someone I fell deeply in love with. And he said he loved me too. But he insisted on sleeping with me. I was so scared.What if he found out I was no longer a virgin after I was raped?

I submitted and we had a sexual relationship.

I fell pregnant. And when I told him, he said the kid was not his. What hurt even more than that, was the way it broke my family. And worse still, my parents forced me to an abortion that destroyed me completely.

One year went by, and my dad brought someone for me who knew I was not a virgin. He seemed nice. I accepted the proposal and married him.

My marriage to my ex husband lasted fifteen years. He was abusive, a liar a womaniser... you name it, he's done it. He was very rich and his money gave him power. I made sabr, I stayed.

But later, I just couldn't take the hiding, the beatings, the sexual abuse, etc. I started using drugs. I was hooked. I couldn't survive without it.

To everyone on the outside, I was living a charmed life. Everybody thought I'm so lucky, I have it all, but I didn't.

I lost my soul. We are divorced, and now I have nothing. I haven't seem my kids in years. I can't seem to move on. There's too many scars. I've been to rehab thrice but I keep on slipping. I don't know where to from here. Allah help me...

I feel like death at times. To make it worst my ex fiancé who didn't want to accept the baby I was forced to abort, contacted me again, wanting me back. But not as a wife. As his mistress.

I'm totally messed up. I don't want to live on this world anymore."

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