{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 <<<