HALF HER DEEN

4.

You know that awkward moment during dinner when the adults turn their attention to us, the 'kids', putting us on the spot? It's a nerve-wracking experience, where you hope to say the right thing and avoid making a fool of yourself. To add to my anxiety, I could sense the handsome stranger across from me stealing glances every few minutes.

Uncle Adam's question came shortly after Hassan sat down, putting me into the spotlight. "So, Halimah dear, when are you going to graduate from university? I think you're almost done, right?"

I cleared my throat, my voice a little unsteady, "Um, yeah, I'm almost done with it, Uncle. Alhamdulillah."

A warm smile spread across Uncle Adam's face. "Allahumma Barik, that's great to hear." I responded with a shy "thank you."

After high school, I made the decision to pursue an online university education. It wasn't easy convincing my parents, but eventually, they supported my choice. Adjusting to online learning was challenging , but I must say that I'm glad I took this path, and I can't wait to graduate by the beginning of next year.

The frog, as I liked to call her in my mind, couldn't resist chiming in. "Do they even allow that type of dressing in the university?" Her sneering remark didn't surprise me; she never missed a chance to comment on my attire.

"Zahra," Uncle Adam and Hassan spoke in unison, both shooting her disapproving glares.

"What? I'm just asking," she replied with a smirk, her nonchalant attitude on full display.

Uncle Adam, ever the gentleman, addressed me apologetically. "I'm so sorry for Zahra's question, Halimah. It was out of line."

"It's alright, Uncle," I responded, offering a reassuring smile. Then, I turned my attention back to her. "To answer your question, yes, they do allow this type of dressing in the university. And my decision to do online studies has nothing to do with my dressing."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

I couldn't help but retaliate as I noticed a blueish tint on her dyed blonde hair. "Did you dye your hair? I didn't know you liked the color blue so much. I've got to say, it looks...eye-catching, totally your color."

Admittedly, my response was somewhat childish, but she started it, again. It was clear that my modest attire seemed to irk her, as she continued to take jabs. Fortunately, her remarks didn't affect me, as I knew that my decision to wear the hijab was deeply personal, guided by my faith and not influenced by others' opinions.

My playful remark resulted in different reactions around the table. Abubakr burst into laughter, my mother pinched my thigh—felt like she was trying to rip my skin off—and my dad nearly choked on his juice. Sarah simply glared at me, while Uncle Hassan looked on with amusement.

But of all the responses, Zahra's was the most entertaining. Her face twisted into a vicious scowl, and it reddened with anger or embarrassment. Or perhaps both emotions. Frankly, I didn't care. Without a word, she abruptly rose from her seat and departed the dining room, stumbling on her way out.

"What? I was just asking," I feigned innocence, attempting to make my eyes appear wider and innocent as I pretended to be baffled by Zahra's sudden departure.

A deep, low chuckle emanated from across the table, causing me to shiver and blush involuntarily . Swiftly glancing in Hassan's direction, I found him smiling down at his plate, amused.

"I'm going to get the ice cream," Sarah announced with a stiff tone, her attempt at an escape from the situation. She began tidying up the dinner table.