“Okay class,no homework for the weekend.”

A chorus of ‘yes’ went through the class and Yasmin shook her head with a slight smile.She glanced up at the clock and looked back at her class,”Pack away,bell will ring in a few minutes.”

The students begun to pack their stuff away and Yasmin did the same,she put her laptop in her bag and gathered the papers on her table.

Just as she got done the bell rang and after greeting her students,they left the classroom.Yasmin picked up her stuff and carried it to the teachers staffroom,she greeted the teachers that left as she entered.She put a few assignments into a file and after making sure she had everything she made her way out.

Yasmin sighed as she opened her flat door and put everything on the kitchen counter.She looked around with bored eyes,the creme furniture sat against the wall and suns rays came through the windows,making her blink her eyes.

Always make sure your house is bright so you never dull.

A voice resonated though her eyes and Yasmin bit back bile,but a home without a family is just a house.That's all.

She made her way to her room,throwing away all those thoughts and after kicking off her shoes,she went to the bathroom.

Yasmin took a nice,long shower and then came out only to dress into a black jeans and black top.She slipped on black pumps and put on a black hijab.

Yasmin put her handbag on her arm and grabbed the pot of food that she had cooked that morning after Fajr.

Ten minutes later,Yasmin pulled up at a driveway and she got out of her car to open the gate.She got back into the car and drove in.

“As salaam mu alaykum Yasmin.” Yasmin smiled at the domestic worker,Ayesha.

“Wa alaykum mu salaam Ayesha.Please can you help me take the food inside?”

“Jee.” Ayesha came forward and she took the pot from the boot and Yasmin grabbed the other one.They walked into the house and Yasmin smiled at the first person she saw.

“As salaam mu alaykum ma.” Yasmin leaned down to kiss ma while Ayesha came back to take the pot from her hand.

“Wa alaykum mu salaam Yasmin.Come sit.” Yasmin took a seat and watched as ma,looked up from her bowl of fruit.

“How was your day,Yasmin?”

“Alhumdullilah it was good,but even more so alhumdullilah it's the weekend.I can do with a break.”

Ma smiled at her tired expression and Yasmin glanced around,”Where's papa?”

At this ma lost her smile and she rolled her eyes,”You know how papa is,he went to the fruit aunty to buy more fruit because you come.”

Yasmin chuckled,”Oh I hope papa brings back some nice oranges and naartjies.”

“And I have.” Yasmin got up to take the bag of oranges from papa and put it on the floor while he placed the box of naartjies on the table.

“They look so sweet.”

Ma and papa laughed as Yasmin almost drooled over the naartjies.Ma reached for one and begun peeling it,handing half the peeled naartjies to Yasmin.

“Jazakallah.” Yasmin popped one by one in her mouth,her eyes fell on papa who’s smile seemed dim.

“Papa,what's wrong?”

Papa lifted his head and he tried to rectify his smile but he knew he failed,”Nothing.”

Yasmin heard the lie in his voice and she leaned a bit forward,”Papa,please don't lie to me.What’s wrong?”

Papa took a deep breath and then spoke,”I was at the fruit auntys place when two women walked in.They were talking about us,they said that what type of in-laws bound their daughter to them when their son has passed away.They said that we need to get you married so that we don't have to be a liability on you.”

Yasmin gritted her teeth,”Well,ma and papa haven't bound me to you.I am just doing my duty and anyways these aunties always have something to say.Please papa,don't take it to heart.”

Ma and papa exchanged a look,ma gave Yasmin a sad smile.She reached forward to take Yasmin’s hand,”Yasmin,it's been two years since Muhammed passed away.You need to start your life afresh.You are only 23.You have your whole life ahead of you.We are not your responsibility but you look after us.We understand that you think that you have a responsibility towards us since you married Muhammed and now that his not here,you have to look after us,but it's not like that.You need to live for yourself now.Perhaps even get married again.”

Yasmin closed her eyes and sighing,she opened them again,”Why must I get married again?I am content with my life and as I said before,I gave my heart away once I can't give it away again.I am happy right now.You'll are my other only family and I would rather look after you'll then get married again.Ma,papa,you’ll mean a lot to me.Please don't take this haq away from me.Please don't give heed to what other people say and do.I’ll go and heat the food.”

Yasmin stood up and went to the kitchen,she stood by the sink and a few tears fell from her eyes.She quickly wiped them away and washed her hands.

Ma and papa were not her parents.They were her marhoom husband,Muhammed’s parents.Maryam and Yacoob,her mother-in-law and father-in-law.They were now her life and that's how it would stay.

Getting married again?She could not even think about it.

No,getting married again was not in her taqdeer and she was happy the way she is.That’s it.

_______________________________________
As salaam mu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa brakatu beautiful people (P.S.Got to take some inspiration from Sham, 😂)

Okay so I did decided that I'm not going to write a Muslim couple story and here we are cause I got these characters in my mind who when I said I'll write about them later were a bit like this:

And this:

So I wrote about them and here we are.

I hope you guys will like it and please leave a comment so I know I'm doing the right thing.

There will be a lot of South African slang words since lo and behold this story is set in my home land South Africa where we have crazy politicians,crazy people,an intense love for biltong and even crazier slang.We have 11 official languages and are known to three main ones when we talk whether you Indian,white or black.So I'll probably be using most of these crazy slang words,feel free to throw a comment in if you don't understand what I have said.

For instance the word naartjie translates to tangerine.And there will be more words that I will probably use so stay tuned.You might even discover some of our favorite foods that we South Africans die for.

I hope you guys will live this story and shower it with the same love that my other stories have got.

Love you all

Take care.

Fi Amanilah