We met at the local supermarket and I offered to help her take her body lotion of choice from the upper shelf. Her shy smile and slow speech endeared her to me, so I asked for her phone number when she lined up behind me at the cashier.
Our friendship picked up from that day. Although we rarely got to spend time together in person, we spent an unhealthy amount of time on the phone, talking about movies, music, politics and the things we cared about.
I asked her to be my girlfriend shortly after because it was quite evident that we liked each other. Her reluctance, as she said, was something beyond my control. Upon asking why she said our difference in religion is not something her parents would agree to. Neither would mine, but I wanted to try regardless.
“You have to convert to Islam if you want to marry me,” she said.
“But this is not marriage. We are just dating,” I answered.
“If we are not dating to get married, then that means you are not serious about me,” she said with a frown.
“I think you misunderstood me, Shamim. People date first, to see if they are compatible with each other, before taking the next step, which is marriage.”
“You don’t have to explain to me like an illiterate, I understand.”
“Okay,” I muttered.
That was the first time we had that conversation, and it ended without clarity. I decided to bid my time and wait for the right time to pose the same question. She was patient with me and was down to try but with a few conditions.
“Dan, you will have to convert to Islam, probably, not now, but in the future. Are you willing?” She asked.
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.
“Then what’s the guarantee that you are serious about the relationship? We need to start somewhere…” she said, sounding frustrated.
“What do you suggest I do?”
“Start learning about the Quran, and the Muslim religion. Just show a little commitment, it will impress my father”. I agreed to it even though I knew that was a very bold step.
I didn’t agree wholeheartedly, to commit my life to learning Islam in preparation for our marriage, because not even my parents would approve of that. Something in me hoped that Shamim would change her mind and decide to be a Christian instead. I hoped for that day, I’m still waiting for it.
Our relationship took an interesting turn when she saw me wearing Kanzu, listening to sermons by Sheikhs and trying to learn the Arabic language. Ramadhan happened in the infancy stages of our relationship, so I joined in, but I was excused because it was my first time. I’d drink water during the day but wasn’t supposed to have any kind of solid food or refreshments until Iftar.
My family and friends thought I was crazy by the mere fact that I was not only dating a Muslim woman but was also learning about their religion. Something that created a rift between my parents and me. Our sexual life was limited, because of how strict the religion on matters of virginity and purity is for women. We never contemplated sexual intercourse, because the consequences of the same were everything Shamim always brought to my attention whenever we were alone, together.
By the end of Ramadhan, I had learnt quite a handful about the religion and was really questioning my faith. Deep within, I knew that two things could exist peacefully, but that wouldn’t make Shamim truly happy. She was quite supportive at that time, explaining things to me without hesitation and appreciating me for making the effort. I honestly thought it would work.
I finally made up my mind to convert to Muslim, without the knowledge and support of my friends and family, a move that really impacted our relationship positively. She offered help relentlessly and cheered me on as I struggled with the new language and religion. She talked of marriage often and it melted my heart. It was a big leap of faith I was starting to feel great about.
We were making baby steps when the worst happened. It’s not necessarily the worst, because Shamim agreed to it. Her father told her that she had been betrothed to the Sheikh’s son, in case her sickly older sister, Subra died prematurely. Subra is an ailing sickle cell warrior, so it’s predicted that her life might be cut short at any time.
Subra had compelled her boyfriend to ask for her hand in marriage because their very religious father gave the worst treatment. She feared that her sickness might take her away from the world before she could have children of her now, so she has always lived her life in haste, trying to make sure she makes memories and is living her best life.
It bothered me, that Shamim was very comfortable when this information was shared with her and she received it with open arms. She didn’t care so much for my change of religion and all the effort I was putting in to ensure that I’m the right man for her. Her composure raised questions in my mind, but I chose to believe in love.
Doubt was eating me up at this point because I felt like Shamim was inconsiderate of my emotions and disregarded the efforts I put in to make our relationship work. The doubt escalated when Shamim started behaving differently from before. It all started with a missed call, then unanswered messages to unreturned calls for over a week. Our relationship wasn’t official to her parents, so visiting her place abruptly would have been rude. I desperately waited for her to communicate in vain.
Rumours floating around are what opened my eyes to the possibility that she could actually be getting married. Nasib, an old friend, who was well aware of my relationship with Shamim was Shamim’s groom. I decided to confront him because he was one of the first persons I consulted when I made the decision to become a Muslim and pursue a serious relationship with Shamim.
“It’s what our parents want, we both can’t say no to them. They have been planning to have their families united by marriage for a very long time. I have a woman that I love, and because religion allows, I’ll marry her as my second wife.”
“Don’t you see how selfish that is? Shamim will be stuck with you, a man she doesn’t love, yet you have the right to marry the woman of your choice?” I asked.
“Tell her that. She can say no, but our parents will be very displeased.”
“Is that all you can do?”
“There’s literally nothing else I can do. It’s like you are asking me, to choose between you and my family and you already know the answer,” he replied.
I hoped, desperately, that Shamim would have a change of heart and decide to take our relationship seriously. But my efforts to contact her, before their wedding were futile. Instead, she sent me a text, apologizing for a lie. Yes. She lied about her sister’s husband. It was a plot to get me to give up on our relationship, and when I didn’t, she decided to go ahead with the marriage regardless of how it would make me feel.
I sunk into depression after it was crystal clear that Shamim opted for a different man for marriage. I was one of the few people that thought love could change the heart of the world but not anymore. In fact, I’m very assertive about my religion and the religious values of my partner, lest I get character developed again.
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