1. This story was written injunction with a series on the blog about dealing with Polygyny which I shall revamp.
2. If Polygyny bothers you then please view all the other articles I have written on this blog.
3. I apologize in advance if you don't like the unedited rough cuts. Feel free to edit and send me the copy of my work :) (with written permission)
4. Have fun! It's just a story that I hope can be a benefit.
5. Please do not copy my story without written permission. I ask that you fear your Creator. Taking my article and claiming it as yours or featuring it on your site without my permission is stealing. People that steal are called thieves. If you aren't a thief then please remain from taking my hard work
Sitting there by her laptop she was unable to move, unable to understand that the e-mail was truly for her husband. She felt this overwhelming hotness that was suffocating her.
How is this so?
Didn't I clean enough? Caring enough? Didn't I cook all his meals? Her mind raced looking for answers. Maybe just maybe I'm not good enough for him. There was this lump in her throat and she started to cough. The thoughts came in one after another, overpowering her and crushing her. Blinking back tears, she started to feel angry inside.
The ringing from the computer interrupted the anger that she was feeling.
It was Sister Maymoonah, calling her via Skype. How could she start class with this new revelation?
Inside her heart felt so much pain, it was as if a heart attack was about to take place. Feeling awful and muddled, Amatullaah went and open the laptop again. Denying the Skype phone call, she had to figure where did she go from there? Rubbing her eyes to remove the tears, she re-read the e-mail. She read it again and again, and again until the words burned into her brain. Each word was engraved into her mind, like a memory that was never to be forgotten. If she kept reading it she would become familiar with each word, each period and each comma.
Inside she felt livid. "How could he do this?" she whispered through clenched teeth. In that moment Amatullaah’s mind manage to recall things she had done or all the sacrifices she had made to make the marriage work.
It was then she started to talk to herself about what she had done. She needed validation, something to prove that she was an asset and could not be treated in any kind of way.
Other women needed to be in polygyny, they weren’t an asset to the family and they were simply taking up space. So her ego thought.
“We had an agreement!” she said out loud as though she was having a conversation with her husband.
“You lied to me! How could you break our agreement? You told me you would let me know when you found someone that you wanted to marry."
"But you said nothing to me! How could you let me find out this way?" she was full of anger that her voice was starting to get loud. She heard her son in the next room call out:
Gripping the chair tight with so much force that her knuckles were turning white she pulled the chair back onto its wheels again, Amatullaah remained quiet until she figured her son had drifted off again.
Amatullaah knew of such women that needed polygyny. There were plenty of sisters in the masjid that did not give their husband’s their rights and was just always taking, and never giving. She just knew she wasn’t one of those women. Or was she?
“I have lost so much of myself in these 10 years of marriage. I sacrificed for us."
Looking off to the side she continued on with her rant. " I quit my job, stop going to school, and focused on you totally. It was me that supported you as you continued with higher education and obtaining the degree and certificates you needed to become a Professor.”
Sucking her teeth and waving her hands in the air she plopped down on the bed and went into her thoughts.
Shouldn't I get a say? Aren't I worth being notified before such a drastic decision?
What was she to do? Munir was coming home soon and she couldn’t get her mind right.
Every night at this time, he would go for a walk.
Munir just started taking these walks a month ago. He walked predictably around 9 p.m. and he would not come in until 10 p.m.
Little did Amatullaah know, Munir was using this time to talk to Aisha and her Wakil each night.
Homemaker, Wife, Mother, Blogger, Planner Enthusiast and Self Care Advocate