HALF HER DEEN

3.

My eyes fluttered open as someone shook my shoulder persistently, the words "Halimah" echoing through my drowsy mind. Ignoring them, I hoped to cling to the last remnants of sleep. But my hope was shattered when my blanket was ripped away from my body exposing me to the morning chill and raising goosebumps on my skin.

Grumbling, I muttered a disgruntled "What?" and squinted my eyes open to find Abu standing over me, his face marred by visible drool marks. It wasn't a pleasant sight to wake up to.

"It's almost Fajr Prayer, and you know how mum gets," he mumbled, still half-asleep, before shuffling away.

My eyes shot open wide in alarm as I bolted upright, almost giving myself whiplash in the process. In a rush, I made my way to the bathroom to perform ablution. I didn't want a repeat of the last time, when Mum had resorted to drenching me with a whole bucket of water. Apparently, I had slept through her wake-up calls for thirty minutes straight, and she felt she had no other choice, when i could think of alot less drastic measures. My bed had been soaked, and I had to sleep in the guest room for days. Never again.

Even though I was sleepy and wanted to go back to bed, this was a priority. The first prayer of the day.

As Muslims, we have five daily prayers. There's one at dawn, another in the afternoon, a third in the evening, a fourth before sunset, and the last one at night. The specific prayer times depend on your location, but these five daily acts of worship are a fundamental part of our faith. It's a small way to show our gratitude and devotion to the One who blesses us with health, wealth, protection from the seen and unseen, and countless other blessings. Praying these five times a day feels like the least we can do to express our thanks.

I hurriedly made my way to the bathroom to perform my ablution before my mother's outburst. The routine was familiar, so I performed it swiftly yet efficiently, knowing that time was of the essence. Afterward, I rushed downstairs to our prayer room and found my place behind the males.

Let's clear something up: this isn't a derogatory practice. In Islamic prayer, men often lead, and women follow behind. It's a matter of organization, not inequality. Sadly, there's a widespread misconception that Islam diminishes the role of women, but the truth is quite the opposite. In our faith, men are our protectors, and women are highly respected and valued. It's a religion that has elevated women's status and safeguards their rights. I'm incredibly grateful for my faith, Alhamdulilah.

Standing in prayer, the drowsiness that had clung to me earlier began to disappear as I listened the soothing and melodious recitation of the Holy Qur'an by my father. His voice was beautiful, and I couldn't help but hope that my future husband would recite just as beautifully.

After completing Salah, we spent some time reading the Qur'an before dispersing. My brother and I headed back upstairs, while our parents remained downstairs, as was their post-morning prayer routine.

-

I was in shock as I locked eyes with my father, who wore an air of casualness as though his recent statement were normal.

"Why on earth are we heading over there for dinner?" I finally queried after a long silence.

Dad met my questioning gaze and replied, "You know that, despite the tension with our neighbors next door, I've cultivated a deep friendship with Mr. Musa."

This was true. Despite the strained relations with females of our neighboring family, my father and Mr. Musa, who happened to be Mrs. Colsey's husband, shared a friendship that had stood the test of time. It began in their primary school days in Iran and had continued through the years. Yes that long.