MY SUNNAH STORY (9)
BY
SANNI KAY YUSUF
We got to her mum amid palpitation of the heart. She was surprised to see us. “Why the uninformed visit?” she probed. “He is here to talk to you, mummy,” replied madam. I was offered a seat. I just discovered madam was nowhere found. He had run away envisaging how brutal the encounter would pan out. It was better imagined than seen. She left me to my cross as agreed. I wanted her presence for more confidence. I needed her corroboration of my presentation even if it was non-verbal. But no, she was rather faceless.
I was left with no other option than inwardly chant the Ease Prayer with maximum enthusiasm. “Allahumma laa sahla illa maa ja’altahu sahla wa anta taj’alul adhna idha shi’ta sahla,” I so chanted, innumerably.
“Hope there’s no problem, Yusuf,” she asked sitting beside me. “Not at all, ma. I just want us to have a mother-son discourse, ma,” I replied gazing fixedly at the floor and my palms together like a drenched moron. “OK. I’m all ears,” she said.
Mum seemed interested in my plight. She listened intently and fully focused. Someone needed to see how hard my heart was beating. But I summoned the courage and kept on with the prayer. After all, I was already down the ocean, why cry of cold? I wasn’t forced. I chose to be bold. So I needed express my mind barring the accompanying consequence.
“Mummy, there’s something bothering our minds that you only can help us solve, ma,” I started stuttering and speaking with a spasmodic repetition of vocal sounds. “What’s that?” she asked curiously. “Mummy, it is not our wish to sin to Allah and have you disappointed via fornication. If you don’t know, mum, we dare not have a handshake with each other, let alone hug or copulate. Apart from it being ungodly, it is immoral and doesn’t speak well of well-trained children like us. Mummy, you’ve got to be commended for instilling exemplary morals into your daughter. That I have seen in her, and is one of the rich qualities that got me enticed to her. Mummy, I must confess that our bodies cannot take it anymore. We feel like playing the husband-wife game, ma, and the only way that can be possible is by you giving us the licence,” I said, still gazing fixedly at the floor. I did not even know what her countenance was because I didn’t look up. Who was I to do that on that very hot seat.
“What does this story teach us? Where exactly are you driving at?” she quizzed. “Eeem, as in…” I stuttered.
What happened? Watch out.
English 
