{A CIIYF Production}

Author’s note: Maaf for the late post… Had to wait till new data kicked in so I could post… ❤️❤️❤️

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

This was no ordinary lady… 
She was a Sangoma and I realised right then that I had just been caught in the middle of a ritual they were performing. 

“Ya Allah! YA ALLAH!” I screamed, TRYING TO GET AWAY! 

My fear soon turned to anger and I pulled my hand with force, nearly toppling the old woman. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” I yelled. If you think the fire was blazing, you should’ve seen me. I was ready to brunt these people to the po-po like yesterday. 

Sam finally caught up to where I was and his air pipes were squeezed tighter than a jeans on a girls BE-hind! He could hardly breathe, leave alone start explaining. My mind was scrambled Sadeekun. Do I call the cops? Wait for an explanation? A demon possession? Maybe a death certificate while they at it?

While the clock was ticking, the flames grew bigger. If I stood around any longer I would’ve been cremated. My first logical thought was to get in the car and get away. I turned to leave but I felt a force holding me back. “WHAT THE?!” I tried pulling my legs forward but it wouldn’t budge. “FLIP FLIP FLIP!! No no no! Please no! This isn’t happening!” I couldn’t move. I was trapped in my own body! 

“Sir… Please jhust lee-sin to me.  I don’t want to hert you. You a good guy. Please jhust lee-sin.” Sam said. “Listen?! What the hell?! Sam please… Just let me go! Please Sam. I have a family.” I pleaded. I pictured Umi at my janazah and the reality of possibly not ever getting to hear her voice again hit me like a titanic hitting ice. 

“I also had a family! You not go-ween anywhere until you lee-sin.” he ordered. “OK but please, put the fire out first.” I pleaded again. “I cannot do that. ” he said. “Why not? Look at it! The wind is picking up and soon this fire will start spreading!” I yelled in frustration. 

Sam looked at the old lady and then back at me. He ordered her in their language to put out the fire while he ordered me to start walking as he followed. 

“This way.” he pointed to a bush at the end of the site.”Here? Really? Can’t you find a more dignified place to throw my body? I mean look at this… Some green grass would be nice.” I said sarcastically. At this point fear was long gone. 

“Don’t be clever. Go!” he pushed me through the bush. We came out on the other side and I was shocked to see a whole village down there. I always thought it was just a forest of trees beyond the site.  

Sam led me to a traditionally dressed man who didn’t look very old at all. After conversing amongst themselves in a language I couldn’t understand to save my life… Literally… The man finally spoke to me. 

“I apologise for the way you had been treated, but we could not risk you exposing us.” he said in VERY good English accent. “Thank you. But if you could let me go…” I began to say before he held his hand up to silence me. 

“I don’t know if you know the story behind this factory. A long long time ago, that land used to be a burial ground for my ancestors before it was snatched from our local villagers.” he told me. My eyes widened… These things only happen in movies. “So now you’re going to tell me ‘Welcome to jumanji’ right?”, I chuckled sarcastically. Judging from their silence, I took it that they didn’t care for my humour, and this crap just got serious. 

He continued, “They took the land from us to build on it. We pleaded for them not to do so because our dead had been buried there for many centuries. When new government took over, we weren’t given back our land because they said we didn’t have documentation to prove that the land was ours.”

“Fine but then burning down the place everytime something is built there, isn’t going to get you back the land.” I told him. 

“We weren’t burning it down. We didn’t even burn it down the last time. But our elders have put a curse on it. Whoever tries to build anything on that land would have a horrible end.” He said. I just stood there in shock. I realised that i signed my death certificate the night I signed up for the job. “So if you’ll weren’t trying to burn anything down, why did you’ll start a fire up there now?” I wanted to know. “We wanted to calm the spirits.” the chief told me. 

I knew we as muslims didn’t believe in all that, but I couldn’t mock them either. At the same time, I also knew that we weren’t allowed to mess with the unseen, even though we know that the jinn exist. 

(O Muhammad!) Follow the revelation which has come to you from your Lord, other than Whom there is no god, and turn away from those who associate others with Allah in His divinity. (Qur’an 6:106)

Had Allah so willed they would not have associated others with Him in His divinity; and We have not appointed you a watcher over them, and you are not their guardian. (Qur’an 6:107)

Do not revile those whom they invoke other than Allah, because they will revile Allah in ignorance out of spite. For We have indeed made the deeds of every people seem fair to them. Tlen, their return is to their Lord and He will inform them of what they have done. (Qur’an 6:108)

“We can fix this.” I bravely said, knowing that I wasn’t going to go through with this project any longer. Nabi (SAW) forbade us from sitting or building on graves. I wasn’t going to be responsible for the consequences in the hereafter for doing something that is clearly impermissible in Islam. 

I looked at him sincerely and said, “Let me go. I won’t call anyone. I know uncle Ismail personally. Let me talk to him. He probably doesn’t even know about all this. I give you my word. Just… Please…Trust me.” 

The chief didn’t look too convinced. He turned to his people who didn’t look too convinced either. One of them kept waving ropes around. From his gestures, I could tell he probably wanted to keep me as his pet. I mean, imagine what it would do for his social life. Normal guys use dogs or babies as chick magnets, but imagine the possibilities when he pulls out an exotic brown guy instead!

“Thank you.” he finally told me. I closed my eyes in relief. Alhumdulilah I whispered under my breathe. Just as I turned to leave, I felt my hands being pulled behind my back and tied. “Wait! What are you doing?! I told you I give you my word! Please!!” I yelled in frustration while trying to get loose. 

“I’m sorry… We can’t trust that you will not expose us, nor can we be certain that you will help us instead of run away like all the other cowards.” the chief told me. With that, they took me hostage. 


>>> Don’t forget to Like Us On Facebook and Follow Us On Instagram

A big Jazak-Allah for all those liking and commenting. It helps as an indication as to whether or not you’ll are enjoying the story, so I know how to improve your reading experience. I’m truly grateful for each and every reader… Stay blessed. ❤️❤️❤️

Stay tuned for more <<<


{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

Almost the whole week had gone by. I realised that I hadn’t spoken to Umi yet with my hectic schedule, so I decided to call her. She answered cheerfully, as she always does. In fact, she sounded more cheerful than usual, which made me wonder if all the things Apa was saying was just out of spite or if Umi was just good at hiding things from me. I thought I’d do some digging… 

“What’s up Umzoh?” I teased. She hates when I call her that. 

“I’m just sorting some clothes.” 

“Ah Umi… Is Abbu boring you so much that sorting clothes excites you? Romance shomance kidhar hein?” {Where’s the Romance?} 

“Muhn band Kar!”  {Close your mouth!} 

I burst out in laughter. I could just picture my sweet Umi’s cheeks turn 3 shades red. 

“Sharam nahi aati?” {Aren’t you ashamed?} 

“I’m JOKING Umi. But anyway… I know Abbu is getting old… But you know old is gold huh?” I raised my eyebrows suggestively as if she could see me. 

“Sayfullah!” Umi yelled through the phone, almost deafening me. 

“JOOOKKKKE Umi… Joke. Lucky I’m not there. You’ll be throwing that whole basket of clothes at me.”

“Awh my son… No. To be honest I miss this. I miss you. This house is so quiet without you and your sister.” 

“I miss you too Umi. I know I was planning to come home to visit, but you know with this new job…” 

“I understand beta… You can’t take leave until the project is over.”

“Jee… But I’ll make it up to you’ll. I promise.”

“Speaking of making it up… Have you spoken to your sister?”

“Not really… But I messaged her.” 

“We spoke two days ago… She was really heart broken. I don’t know what went on between you two, but I didn’t like hearing her cry.”

“I know… I didn’t mean to be rude to her. She was just nagging too much about Naseerah Umi.” 

“She cares for you.” 

“I know.”

My conversation with Umi was cut short because just then, I received an incoming call from Uncle Ahmed. 

“Laatie, I need a favor. I just got home now and I can’t remember if I locked the office door. All the operating machine keys as well as construction plans are in there. Since you live close by, please check and let me know. I don’t know how I slipped up.”

“No problem. I’m leaving now. The last thing we need is a theft. Don’t stress, I’ll call you when I’m there.” 

After a long day at work, the last thing I wanted to do was go back there, but my life is such that if anyone else slips up, I am screwed. So I grabbed some clothes and got my keys and left. 

What happened next, I never imagined would happen even in my wildest dreams.

The sky had just turned that last shade of blue where you can see, but just barely. I pulled into the lot where we park our cars and jumped off quickly. I was the only one there and boy was I skrik! 

You know that hop like sprint you do from the kitchen light switch, throughout the house when you’re alone at night until you reach your bed, as if a jinn is chasing you? Picture me doing that across the parking lot in socks and sandals. Don’t laugh! You’d be skrik too if you saw how pitch dark it gets here without lights on site.

A knot formed in my stomach as I reached out to shake the office door handle. My heart was beating out of my chest the moment the door opened. “No no no!” I shrieked with terror. I couldn’t help but to imagine the worst. I’ve been watching homicide investigation series lately and it’s starting to get to me.

I pulled out my phone and used it as a torch. If I could, I would’ve left one foot at the door so I could be ready to run for my life if someone popped up from under the table with a baseball bat to kill me. I reached for the drawer that had all the keys in them. It was locked and the plans looked to be in place. 

“Alhumdulilah!” I sighed in relief as I ran out slamming the door shut and locking it. As I turned around to go back to my car I got the shock of my life! 

“SAM! What the hell are you doing here?!” I screamed in almost a girls pitch tone of voice. Almost…  I said A-L-M-O-S-T. 

“Oh Mr. Sayfullah sir… I-i uh whas kha-min to hask you da sem thing sir. Any problem here?” he said in an accent. 

“No no… I just needed to check on something. Why are you here so late? Shouldn’t you have been home by now? ” I asked him, walking back to my car. Although Sam was an old man who couldn’t fight to save our lives, I felt braver knowing I wasn’t alone. 

“N-Nah-thing sir. I’m going jest now.” he said, looking rather suspicious. Something just wasn’t right. I don’t know why, but there’s something about Sam that makes me feel uneasy ever since the first day I met him.

“Sure Sam?” I tried to read him. He was hiding something… I just didn’t know what. 

“Yes.. Bye sir” 

As I jumped into my car, I noticed a flame in the distance. “What the?” I thought I was seeing things but the sky darkened and the flame burnt brighter. “I knew it!” I yelled to myself as the anger of Sam lying to me took over. 

My car came to a screeching hault when I drifted around the building and reached the place where the fire had been burning. I looked around to see what I could use to put it out but the surroundings were nothing but concrete and old wood. A huge fire stood in front of me, obviously fueled by the wood we’ve been working all week to get out of the factory.  “Think think think Sayf!” I panicked. 

As I reached in my pocket to get my phone, someone grabbed my hand in a firm grip. I looked up and went cold and numb as I felt my breathe be sucked out of me.  In front of me stood an African lady. She looked into my eyes and all I saw were the white clouds that covered hers. She looked possessed. Her dreadlocks were covered in beads and she had a stick in her hand that had feathers coming out the end. There were bones hanging from a string around her neck. 

This was no ordinary lady… 
She was a Sangoma and I realised right then that I had just been caught in the middle of a ritual they were performing. 

“Ya Allah! YA ALLAH!” was all I could scream TRYING TO GET AWAY! 

And when a messenger from Allah came to them confirming that which was with them, a party of those who had been given the Scripture threw the Scripture of Allah behind their backs as if they did not know [what it contained]. (Quran 2:101)

And they followed [instead] what the devils had recited during the reign of Solomon. It was not Solomon who disbelieved, but the devils disbelieved, teaching people magic and that which was revealed to the two angels at Babylon, Harut and Marut. But the two angels do not teach anyone unless they say, “We are a trial, so do not disbelieve [by practicing magic].” And [yet] they learn from them that by which they cause separation between a man and his wife. But they do not harm anyone through it except by permission of Allah . And the people learn what harms them and does not benefit them. But the Children of Israel certainly knew that whoever purchased the magic would not have in the Hereafter any share. And wretched is that for which they sold themselves, if they only knew. (Quran 2:102)

[To Be Continued] 


>>> Sorcery and black magic is something that a lot of us either take too lightly or too seriously. Know that it is real and keep yourself protected using Surah Naas, Surah Falaq and Ayatul Kursi. 

Keep safe my wonderful readers… 

Don’t forget to Like Us On Facebook and Follow Us On Instagram. Stay tuned for more <<<


{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

It’s been a week since I’ve started working on site, and I have this feeling like something is just not right. 

Aside from that, as if work wasn’t stressful enough, Apa has been behaving more and more dramatic, not to mention childish. 

I wake up one morning to this being on her whatsapp status:

They say when you have a problem, it’s better to talk about it rather than bottle it up, but women make their own rules. When THEY have a problem, they think POSTING about it is the same as talking about it. Well it’s not! It just makes things worse and frankly, most of the time we don’t give a crap anyway. It just pushes us away even more.

After getting out of bed and relaxing for over an hour, I decided it was time to get going. With Zaid no longer being my roommate, I came to the grim reality that noodles, plain rice or eggs will now be my new staple diet until I get married. 

I decided to take Uthmaan up on his invitation and went upstairs to visit. I knocked at the door and waited for someone to open. While I waited I couldn’t help but notice the crazy view from his floor. My legs went like jelly just looking down. 

“Assalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatulahi Wa Barakaatu my brother. How are you man?” Uthmaan said, placing his hand on my shoulder from the back. 

“Wa alaikum salaam, I’m doing OK Alhumdulilah. I thought I’d come visit for a little bit.” I told him. 

“Come come.” he said, gesturing for me to follow him into his place. 

Sadeekun his place was immaculate! The funny thing is, you’d expect more to be in there, given that his house is the size of the entire floor. As a matter of fact, they didn’t even have a dining room table. Uthmaan said he got rid of it in order to get the kids used to practicing the Sunnah of sitting on the floor and eating. It was quite impressive if I must say so myself. 

Uthmaan walked me over to the lounge area. “So is this your man cave then?” I teased, pointing at all the white doilies thrown over almost everything. He chuckled, “Nah man. But whenever I have anyone over, we only relax here. It’s the best place in the house for many reasons. ” “Yeah? And what’s that?”, I asked curiously.  “For one, it’s connected to the balcony and guests usually enjoy the view. Plus this room is more closed, so the kids and my wife have the rest of the house without worrying about anyone seeing them if they didn’t know we had guests over. Then there’s the guest bathroom connected right through here, so there’s no reason for anyone to go roaming. Lastly… There’s a small fridge here, so my wife can relax while I see to whoever I have over… So basically… It’s most convenient.”

Uthmaan seated me while he went to get some refreshments from his small hidden fridge. Although all of that was impressive, what impressed me the most was his consideration for his wife and family first, rather than being a typical husband and feeling entitled, expecting his wife to parade in front of us in order to wait on us. Of course she would’ve had her niqaab on, but I admire the fact that he put her comfort first. This is her home, she shouldn’t need to be uncomfortable in her own home.

“So how’s things bhai? How’s the new job?” Uthmaan asked, handing me a glass of cold orange juice. 

“Eyh bra, I don’t know.” 

“Why? What’s the problem?” 

“See the thing is, I’m doing all this because I want to get permission from my ‘boss’ for his daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

“Oh hoh hoh. Wah Wah.” Uthmaan said in a proper Pakistani accent just to tease me. 

I chuckled, “No man… I’m serious. He says if I can’t handle this, then how will I handle marriage.”

“But see here bhai… You’re happy with this girl as your choice? And she’s happy with you as her choice? And you’ll want to get married?” 

“Yeah of course… I wouldn’t be going through all this crap if I didn’t.” 

“Then what’s the problem? Make Nikah and finish.”

“You say it like it’s so easy bra.” 

“What’s so hard yaar? It’s simple…”

“Her father wants to make sure I’m financially able to support her. Because he can give her anything she wants, he wants that I should be able to as well.” 

“Allahu Akbar! Do you know what Allah says to that? 

Wa ankihul ayaamaa minkum was saaliheena min ‘ibaadikum wa imaa’kum; iny-yakoonoo fuqaraaa’a yughni himul laahu min fadlih; wal laahu Waasi’un ‘Aleem

“Marry the single people from among you and the righteous slaves and slave girls. If you are poor, Allah (SWT) will make you rich through His favour; and Allah (SWT) is Bountiful, All-knowing.” (Surah 24, Verse 32) 

My brother, in this verse, Allah (SWT) commands us to marry the single, righteous man/woman from among us. On top of that, Allah gives us a GUARANTEE that if we are poor or lack the proper funds, still we should not delay the marriage as Allah Himself will take care of the people and grant them bounties from His grace and Mercy. What more can any parent ask for their child?”

“Subhan-Allah… That’s amazing man. But try telling that to her father. He thinks I’m incapable of giving her what he can give her.”

“So he wants you to have wealth over night while he took years to gain the wealth he has today? If he feels you are incapable, then no problem. Nothing is stopping him from continuing to support his daughter AFTER the nikkah. If he loves her and is concerned for her stability, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah but, if she is in my house, he expects me to do it. Plus, I want to be able to support her on my own.” 

“Fine. Make nikkah and she can remain in her father’s house until you’re ready to bring her home. Make it halal yaar… This is not good. In fact, it’s actually a BIG sin. See here… Let me send you something. Perhaps send it to him as a kind suggestion.” 

After watching the video, I realised what Uthmaan was saying. Mufti Menk just has a way of putting things in such a way that you see how uncomplicated and simple life actually can be. 

“Thanks bra. You know, my sister has been driving me insane. Nagging me about how wrong what I’m doing is. I know she’s doing it with good intention, but it was pushing me more into an ‘I-don’t-care-anymore’ frame of mind. But when you put it this way, instead of all the nagging… It makes me WANT to listen and follow through. You know what I mean?”

“Don’t be too hard on her. We all have that bad habit of not listening to the ones who are closest to us, even though they are the ones that worry about our well being more than we ourselves do. The same advice can be given to us by someone else and we think the world of it.”

“Hmmm… I think I need to give her a call later.”

“Yes you should. In fact, grab the house phone over there and phone now. Don’t prolong it because shaitaan will only use it to his advantage. Call her. I will be right back In-shaa-Allah. Let me just go check on the kids. Take your time, just make sure you clear the air with your sister.” 

I was stunned Sadeekun. I instantly regretted losing all these years with Uthmaan. He truly is a good friend. I picked up my glass of juice then remembered a dua we learnt in Madressah. 

Dua for the host who offers you a drink:

Allaahumma ‘at’im man ‘at’amanee wasqi man saqaanee.

O Allah, feed the one who has fed me and give drink to the one who has given me drink. 

When I punched in Apa’s number and waited for it to ring, it kept going straight to voicemail. I assumed her battery was dead, so I Whatsapped her instead. 

Me: I’m trying to call you but it’s going straight to voicemail. 
Me: I just wanted to apologize for all the crap I said. I was just under a lot of stress and I didn’t know what to do. So I took it out on you. I didn’t mean it. 
Me: I hope you can forgive me.💐 
Me: I’m going to try and make things better.
Me: I promise.❤️

Just as I put my phone down, Uthmaan came back with a platter full of samoosas and pies. 

“Here bhai… Have.” he said, putting the whole platter in front of me. 

“YOH BRAH! I could feed everyone at my walima with this! So much?!” 

“Don’t worry… Enjoy yaar! First time you came to my house, let me spoil you a little bit.” 

I smiled, taking the saucer he was handing me.

“So have you’ll started with the construction work as yet?” Uthmaan asked while grabbing a saucer for himself. 

“Not as yet. We connected some temporary lighting in the factory so we could start moving things out of the building, but when we got to work the next day, the wires had been cut. I’m just hoping that it’s not sabotage.”

“Sabotage? Why would anyone want to do that? Everyone’s jobs would be at stake.”

“Well I wouldn’t put it pass Naseerah’s father. He would do anything to nail me for something.”

“No man. I’m sure he wouldn’t throw away all the money he is investing, just to prove a point to you. He is a business man after all.” 

“Yeah you’re right. It’s just that all these small things are adding up to big delays. The other day 5 workers quit right on the spot just because they say they hear noises and sometimes they feel ‘wind touching them’. I honestly don’t know what to do. I’m on a 8 month time limit. I just don’t know if we can do it all in time at the rate we’re going at.”

“Wind touching them?” 

“Yeah man. It’s ridiculous. It’s a HUGE and very old factory. You can expect to feel gushes of wind because some of the windows are broken. And the noise they hear is probably the howling of the wind or the echo of the others talking.”

“Just to be safe though, you should read Surah Bakarah in there. You know how bad jinns like living in dirty abandoned places. But READ it huh, don’t play it from your phone like all these youngsters nowadays. They think its the same thing but it’s not.”

“Hmm… I’ll do that. Thanks man.”

Uthmaan and I chatted a bit more and he told me about how a lot of people blame the jinn for ridiculous things but on the other hand, some people don’t take it seriously enough. 

“You need to have a balanced mind and take precautions. Read Ayatul Kursi daily, Read Surah Bakarah when you’re moving into a new place. Constantly invoke Allah’s Protection and guidance with Surah Falaq and Surah Naas. And NEVER ever try to poke around in what’s unseen. If Allah wanted us to be able to communicate with them, he would’ve let us see them. The kids these days don’t realise what they get themselves into when they play these demonic games with their friends ‘just to see what happens’. The result? Suicide after suicide. May Allah protect us and our children.”

It was scary to think about… But he was right. There are 3 types of ways people take it. 

  1. Fear it and blame it for all the bad in their lives, even if it be them having a bad day at work. 
  2. Ignore it totally and pretend it doesn’t exist, no matter how severe the case. Some even going to the extreme and treating it like a joke, taking part in rituals with the intention of proving others wrong about it. Only to result in them harming themselves in the process. 
  3. Believe they exist but avoid making contact with them by protecting themselves with Allah’s name. 

After speaking for a little bit more, I decided it was time to leave. I didn’t want to stay too long because I’m sure Uthmaan, had chores and errands he did earlier in the week so that he could look forward to going out with his family in the weekend. 

Before leaving I made one last dua. 

Dua for your host:

Allaahumma baarik lahum feemaa razaqtahum, waghfir lahum warhamhum.

O Allah, bless them in what You have provided for them, and forgive them and have mercy on them.

I really had such a great time with Uthmaan. I can’t wait for him to visit my place next so I can give him a good time too. I’m glad Allah decided to cross our paths again. 


>>> Don’t forget to Like Us On Facebook and Follow Us On Instagram

I had a little bit of writers block on this episode, but once I did some brainstorming with a friend, ideas started flowing and I managed to make a full episode. Please do send through your suggestions on what you’d like to see happen next… I get just as excited writing an episode as you feel reading it. Ideas are always welcome. 

Stay tuned for more <<<


{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

Just as I completed my surah Yaseen for the morning, a tradition I decided to begin after my meeting with Uthmaan the other day, I heard my phone ring. “A call? At this time? Well this can’t be good”, I thought to myself as I quickly put my Quran down, ensuring that it was on its right side up.

Meeting with Uthmaan the other day brought back a lot of madressah memories, but one thing that has always stayed fresh in my memory was the advice I got from moulana on my very first day about keeping my Quran correctly.

“We don’t wear our clothes upside-down, but we put our Qur’ans upside-down. We have so much respect for things of this dunya, I’m not saying wear your clothes upside-down, but why can’t we respect the kalaam of Allah? The same quran that will one day, in-shaa-Allah, light up our Qabrs and intercede on our behalf in the court of Allah (SWT). If you respect the Quran and fulfill its rights over you, then, in-shaa-Allah, Allah (SWT) will embed the Quran in your hearts.”

Till today, whenever I see a Quran on the wrong side or upside down, it bothers me and I will not rest until and unless it is placed correctly. I’m not a perfect person, but how Merciful is our Rabb, who rewards us immensely for even the smallest of good deeds.

When I picked up my phone I saw that it was Apa. I sighed out loud… contemplating in my head on whether or not I should answer it. I just knew what she was going to tell me. After the, ‘slms, how are you, how’s everything’ formalities, she got right down to business… No like… Actual business.

“What’s this Umi tells me about you quitting your job to work for your girlfriend’s father?”, she asked bluntly.

“Relax Apa… I know what I’m doing.”, I tried to assure her.

“Is that so? So when will you be moving in then?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I see… So you DON’T know what you’re doing then. You basically just signed your life over to him because you’re NEVER going to hear the end of how he got you to wherever you are in 10 years from now. I hope you know that you’re going to live in his house for the rest of your life while your parents grow old and helpless by themselves in their own house, always wondering where they went wrong in your upbringing.”, she ranted.

“OH MY WORD! Just relax! You’re just being over dramatic now. Stop watching and behaving like all those characters in those Indian soapies of yours eyh… ” “Indian soapies?… INDIAN SOAPIES???”

I shut my eyes and bit my lip, instantly regretting that I had just pushed the wrong button.

“You know what… I only advise you because I HATE seeing you throw your life away over a stupid girl! You say she makes you a better person but all I’ve seen ever since you met her was how disrespectful you’ve become, and how your parents and family have been meaning less and less to you as the days go by. I’m getting tired of it Sayfullah. You think we don’t know how you sit in her house and go loafing with her everywhere?”

“We don’t do anything wrong! Her family is always there! They invite me to join them on their outings… What’s so wrong in that?”

“You honestly don’t see how that’s wrong Islamically and even morally? The worst mistake Umi ever made was to send you to Durban. You think you are very big now. Don’t need your family anymore because your girlfriend and her family are there to support you now huh? I’d like to see how far you go without Umi and Abbu’s blessings.”

“Funny thing is… The only person complaining is you. Every time I speak to Umi she doesn’t tell me any of what you’re telling me. She only ever makes GOOD duas for me. I don’t know why you’re blowing everything way out of proportion.”

“THAT’S BECAUSE SHE IS SO SCARED OF LOSING YOU! Both Umi and Abbu know that if they go against anything you say, you will turn on them… Just as you are doing to me right now. So they just sit quietly, and silently pray that you come right and come back to them. I know all this because I’M the one that Umi calls and cries to after you’re done on a call with her. The worst part is, no matter how much I can tell her that she needs to accept it and move on, she makes a million excuses for you! She’s living in denial.”

At this point I was so mad Sadeekun…

“You know what… All you ever do is complain. Why can’t you just be happy for me and be supportive of my choices? I think it’s better you just worry about your own family if nothing I do is good enough for your standards. ”

“My OWN family? Secretly, I knew this day would come… But just like Umi, I lived in denial. Just because nobody ever spoke out loud about the fact that I’m adopted, didn’t mean that you fully accepted me as your sister. You’ve changed so much… And you’re the only one who doesn’t see it. Anyway… Take care. I wish you the best in your future endeavors. Assalaamu Alaikum Wa Rahmatulahi Wa Barakaatu.”

I couldn’t believe what just happened Sadeekun. I felt like I was just punched right in the gut. This whole thing just became something waaaay more than what it needed to be. Apa and I have never fought like this before. I know that the right thing to do would be to call back and apologize, but on the other hand, she needed time to think about why she is wrong. It’s easy for her to give lectures when she is happily married and has someone supporting her. She doesn’t realise that being a guy is different and much harder and it’s not just plain black and white.

As I got ready for work, I panicked when I couldn’t find the card uncle Ismail gave me for handling the project finances. “HOW could I lose it?!”, I yelled out loud as I frantically turned my flat upside down looking for it. I remember Abbu teaching us that whenever we’re looking for something that is lost, we should read Surah Waduha and continually read:

Antal haadi Antal haq laisal haadi illahu

(O Allah You are the Guide, You are the Truth – There is no Guide except Allah)

I kept reading it as I searched, believing whole heartedly that I would either find it, or remember what happened to it.

When I looked at the time, I realised that I couldn’t stay any longer because I’d be late for work. I couldn’t help but blame it on Apa’s curse of ‘wanting to see how far I could go without their blessings’. As I walked to my car, I felt like I was going to throw up. I kept hoping I would wake up any moment and realise this was all just a bad dream.

I didn’t know if I should phone uncle Ismail and tell him to put a stop on the card or just wait in case it turns up somewhere. On the one hand I risk looking like a fool and being fired, losing everything I have built for myself in Durban and on the other hand I have a slight chance of finding the card OR working the rest of my life to pay uncle Ismail back for any money that could possibly be stolen. I was about to give up hope when I uttered the dua for when a loss occurs:

Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un

إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعون

“Surely we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return”

Just as I sat in my car and dropped my house keys in my door panel, there it was… The glistening platinum bank card. Words can’t describe how relieved I was Sadeekun. “Alhumdulilah! Alhumdulilah! Alhumdulilah!”, I said as I put the card to my chest, instantly feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Allah is truly the Greatest!

Hazrat Ata ibn Abu Rabah (may Allah be pleased with him) told of hearing that Allah’s Messenger (peace be upon him) said, “If anyone recites Yaseen at the beginning of the day, his needs will be fulfilled.” (Darimee)

My relief was short lived because just as I was about to start my car, my phone rang again.


“Hi, may I speak to Mr Sayfullah?”


“Hi, my name is Chantel and I’m calling on behalf of Mr Moola, the construction site manager.”

“Aaah… go ahead.”

“Mr. Moola has asked me to call you and find out where you are, as he and the rest of the team are at the site waiting to discuss the plans”

“uhhhh right, please let him know that I’ll be there in the next 10 minutes.”

“OK. Thank you. Bye”

As I got nearer to the site I realised just how busy these next few months are going to be. There was about 9 or 10 trucks branded with logo’s of a variety of companies waiting to either offload their goods or fetch the rubble. Men in hard hats and overalls were running around trying to make sense of the situation. It was just one huge confusion. I looked around trying to spot someone who looked like a project manager but couldn’t see anyone sporting the look I’d imagined a project manager would have.

After walking around aimlessly for a few minutes I heard someone call out in the distance. “Aaah there you are! You must be Sayfullah , I am Ahmed Moola”, he said in a thick Indian accent. I turned around to see a big built man, wearing a hard hat and overalls, just like everyone else. He also had a dark tan from being outdoors for so many years, which made him look rather cheeky.

After exchanging greetings and pleasantries Uncle Ahmed, as he insisted I call him, instead of Mr Moola, took me for a tour of the entire building, or rather ruins! It looked as if we would have to break down most of the building and start again. I then followed him into his on-site office, which was just a metal container, where he laid down the plans for the next 8 months. It was basically nothing but hard work, more hard work and even more hard work!

Just as I was about to leave to get started on my loongg list of projects for the day, Uncle Ahmed called me back and handed me a clear packet containing blue and yellow overalls, a white hard hat, which as he pointed out, will keep me from turning as brown as he is, and some heavy workers boots which I was expected to wear to work from tomorrow.

“Really?”, I looked at him, questioning the seriousness of the matter. “Of course! I can’t believe you even had the guts to come here today dressed like that.”, he raised an eyebrow looking at me from head to toe. For some reason I felt as if I needed to defend myself, “I actually dressed for my part. You being a MANAGER , dressing in overalls? I don’t know man, I mean… I couldn’t even tell you apart.”

Uncle Ahmed stopped what he was doing and looked up at me, “Apart from what? The workers? If you are afraid to get down and dirty, don’t expect anyone else to. Sayfullah, remember that a true leader must lead by example and hard work never killed anybody!”

It was apparent by my facial expressions that I felt like a total idiot by now. I was doing a terrible job of making a good first impression.

“Don’t worry laaitie. I know you’re still young and there’s a lot you still need to learn. So after you get those urgent payments done, forget everything else, I’m starting you off with a brief health and safety course. All staff are required to attend it at the beginning of every project.”, uncle Ahmed said, handing me a health and safety booklet that had safety rules on the cover page.

This is definitely going to be an interesting, if not eye-opening 8 months and the best part is that at the end of it all I’ll be a better person financially, physically and even mentally, not to mention I’ll have an amazing wife to go home to every single day.


>>> Don’t forget to Like Us On Facebook and Follow Us On Instagram

Let me know what you guys think. I always love reading you’lls feedback.

Since Sayfullah’s diary is a few episodes behind Nusaybah’s, I’ll be posting Sayfullah’s entries until it’s caught up before alternating between the two diaries again in-shaa-Allah.

Stay tuned for more <<<


{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

It was such a fine morning today Sadeekun, I actually woke up early today because I had big plans to go check out uncle Ismail’s site. I can literally see it going real easy cuz cmon saadikun, how hard can renovating be? I grinned foolishly all morning, and cleaned my flat out, yes Sadeekun, cleaning! Not just wiping down with a towel, but actual soapy sudsy kind of cleaning. The one I would never let my friends see lol, or they’d call me an aunty with an itch!! I got quizzical glances all morning, because of my bounding enthusiasm. I even helped a granny from the building across to cross the road, I considered that my good deed for the day, so I wouldn’t feel guilty for missing fajr salah today.

As I headed towards the site, my stomach clenched with nerves, this was the first time I’d been given such a big responsibility, would I match up to it? I followed the directions uncle Ismail had given me and frowned in confusion when it lead me towards the industrial area of the city. How they were planning to run the shop amidst warehouses and factories was beyond me. Who would come this far out just to buy a few groceries at a cheaper price? Only a fool… That same money they would save on groceries will be pumped into their tanks to come out here. They might as well just buy from the local grocery store.

Continue reading


{A CIIYF Production}
Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

I woke up to the sound of Mrs. Vermaak banging down my door. “Hold on… Hold on.”, I yelled, trying to make my way to the door through the obstacle course that had been created in my flat by the sleeping guys last night.

I felt like a bat when I opened the door and the light shed directly inside. We had been indoors all weekend, so you can imagine how my eyes rolled back into my head when I opened the door. Trying to peel my eyes open and look at the body corp lady, I listened as she went on ranting about the noise we made this weekend. “Do you know how many complaints I’ve gotten because of the racket you had made in these past 3 days? This is unacceptable!”, she scolded.

I stepped outside and pulled the door behind me so that the guys inside wouldn’t get disturbed by the noise this granny was making. “I understand. I’m so sorry. I truly am… My friends just came to say goodbye since I’m leaving work. And you know how hard it is to control a pack of wild guys.”, I told her. Her eyebrows raised right up in horror before she cleared her throat and said, “I wouldn’t know about that. Just please… Don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t Mrs. Vermaak, thank you!”, I told her, throwing a million dollar morning smirk at the old lady. She sped away quickly, probably feeling uncomfortable at this point.

I turned around to go back inside and realised that the idiots inside had locked me out. “Damn! I should’ve known…”, I mumbled to myself. “Cumon bra! Open the door.”, I tried whispering through the key hole. I had just received a verbal warning from body corp, I wasn’t going to chance getting a written one. “Guys… Please man.” I pleaded, with my ear against the door, trying to figure out who was behind this stunt.

Continue reading


{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

The feeling of waking up to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was amazing! I didn’t think that it was possible for me to live this lifestyle in my lifetime, but look at me now. I turned over onto my side and smiled as I gently touched the pillow next to me, imagining Naseerah smiling back at me.

After Nusaybah stomped on me and made me feel like a low-life who couldn’t live up to her standards, Naseerah made me truly realise my worth and turned me into a man. She believed in me when nobody else did and she pushed me to achieve my goals, and now that I am successful, it’s only fair that she gets a share in it. Now that my place is sorted out, I planned on asking her father for her hand in marriage, tonight. I even had to have him fit me into his schedule so that I could see him tonight.

I started off my morning routine stretching and getting up lazily, strolling to the bathroom to have some alone time with my most faithful servant who kisses my butt everyday to make me feel better, the gleaming white bowl of relief. As the cold pan sent shivers up my spine, I whipped out my phone to check all my notifications. I had a lot to go through because I was now quite popular on social media. To be honest, I started being more active on my social platforms by putting up pictures and commenting on peoples posts with the hope that Nusaybah would see it and burn. I’m not one for revenge, but I sure do want her to see that she threw away a precious stone, thinking it was a rock.

Continue reading

1# [THE DIARY OF A SINNER- Season 5]

{A CIIYF Production}

Habibi Sadeekun… (Beloved Friend)

5 Months feel like a lifetime ago. Since then I’ve moved out of the hotel and found a flat to stay in here in Durban, focusing my energy into putting a home together for my bride to come home to the day I get married. My parents have been encouraging me to work on it while I’m still a bachelor because priorities change once you accept a second person into your life.

The flat is great and from the lounge window, I can actually see the beach. I would’ve loved to be able to own this place but for now, renting will do. Things seem to falling into place. My life finally feels like its getting back on track and I can honestly say that I’m happy.

If you saw me the night I returned from Nusaybah’s house, you would’ve thought I had lost my mind and that there was no hope for me.


I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I tried my best to make this proposal a memorable one and boy was it! For all the wrong reasons thanks to Nusaybah.

To make things worse, Nusaybah has agreed to see other ‘potential suitors’. Yeah right! That’s just another word for wanting to see other guys. Window shopping they call it. I should’ve just listened to Umi. She warned me that Nusaybah would break my heart.

Continue reading