Chapter 2

“During hard times, we tend to forget the blessings we have around us, and instead, we focus more on the things that are going wrong for us. It is human nature. We tend to get lost in circumstantial sources of grief and pain and forget to notice our source of blessings. Whenever you feel yourself being sucked into a dark phase of hopelessness and depression, remind yourself that you have a lot to be grateful for at the same time — whether it is a loving family, supportive friends, food in your belly every night before you sleep, a roof over your head, and countless other things. Remind yourself that you are better off than so many other people who do not share your fortune in these domains. Keep a “count your blessings” journal, if you want, where you can jot down a couple of things you are grateful for on a daily basis. It really does help in looking at the bright side of things! Habiba, I never want to hear such words come out of your mouth! You are a Muslim, you believe in Qadr. You believe that whatever comes your way is from Allah, and you will pass that test,” her mother advised.

Habiba was in great pain at that moment. Her condition was getting worse day by day, and she was starting to give up.

“Ya Allah, I hope for Your mercy. Do not leave me to myself even for the blinking of an eye. Ya Allah, heal me, ease this pain. Fix all of my affairs for me. There is none worthy of worship but You.”

She was losing her mind...again. She cried like she was not going to make it to the next day. She cried like her spirit needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release an elemental rage on the world. The soothing words of her mother made no difference at all. Habiba was beyond all reason, beyond all natural methods of calming. Her mother cried, stroking her head, but it made no difference.

He knocked softly on the door before entering with Salam. His heart beat fast against his rib cage as he approached her bed. His hands trembled, and his eyes watered as he reached her side.

“Good evening, Mommy. H-how is she doing?” He asked, even though he could tell she was in pain. Why does she have to be in pain? Why does she have to suffer? Why does any sickle cell patient have to go through this? If her parents actually didn’t get married, they would’ve saved her from the pain and the hard time she’s going through. No one should suffer like this in their life.

“She will be fine...” her mother replied, holding her hand as she cried in pain. “I’ll go see the doctor now. Please look after her,” her mother informed him before leaving the room.

He sat beside her and sighed. “Babe, how are you feeling?” He whispered. “I...my bones... they’re burning,” she wailed, closing her eyes tightly. And then she stopped crying; taking deep breaths, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. “I know you must be scared... scared of marrying me... right?”

“The only thing I’m scared of is losing you,” he replied back.

“Adil, I don’t think getting married to me will be an achievement. I’m a liability...”

"Habiba," he said sternly. “Stop saying things like this. In sha Allah, you will be back on your feet, and we will get married. We will have our babies, grow old together, die together, okay?” He reassured.

“I will be having a bone-marrow transplant next week, so I want you to listen to me, okay?” She murmured, looking at him. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Though these pains come and go, I give to you only smiles because I want you to be at ease and not worry. Thank me by having fun; remember me by laughing often because that is what brings me comfort in these trials of age. When you remember me, send me your love and prayers, and I will return to you mine, though, in truth, it is always yours, always there for you. These pains may be an unwelcome guest, yet they can never master the beautiful soul, not mine, my love, nor yours. I know I won’t make it. Please, please pray for me when I die.”

Words left him. He stared into her bright brown eyes burning with fear and pain, and his heart fell silent and sad. He was already scared, but her words discouraged him more. Is that a will?

“Habiba... Allah is in control of everything, not you, not me, or anyone. Stop saying that, please. I know you’re going through a really hard time but don’t forget Allah will never burden you with something that is beyond your capacity to deal with. Even on days when you feel as if you cannot take it anymore, know that you can survive it, for Allah knows us better than we know ourselves, and whatever trial you’re facing in your life, know that He also gives you the strength to handle that trial.”

The door opened, and her mother, the doctor, and two nurses appeared. “Excuse us, please. It’s time for her medication,” the doctor spoke politely. Adil smiled a bit and nodded.

He went out to the waiting room and sat down helplessly. He exhaled sharply, closing his face with his palms. He brought out his phone and dialed his father’s number.

"Salamu Alaikum, baba. Good evening,” he spoke gently.

"Wa'alaikumus Salam, good evening Adil. How are you?” Baba replied. "Alhamdulillah baba..." then he paused.

“Your uncles will be traveling to Kano next thing tomorrow,” baba informed him, smiling.

“Uh, yes, baba....about that, I want us to get married immediately. Because Habiba is terribly sick and I want to be with her the whole time. Baba, please help me speak with her father about it,” he pleaded. “SubahanAllah! Why are you just telling me this? Since when has she been sick? What’s wrong with her?”

He rubbed his eyes to prevent the tears from falling. “Uhmm...since last week. She is a sickle cell patient, and she’s really suffering.”

“May Allah grant her shifa. We will pray for her in sha Allah. I’ll call her father right now and speak with him. Don’t worry. Just pray for her. Allah ya bata lafiya."

He thanked baba and ended the call. The sadness flowed through his veins and deadened his mind. It was poison to his spirit, dulling him and killing off his other emotions until it was the only one that remained. It was as if a black mist had settled upon him and refused to shift, and no matter how bright the day was, he would feel no sun and hear no bird song. For the world was lost to him, and he knew nothing that would bring it back into focus until Habiba was okay.