Building work was being carried out on the Mosque, to make it larger.
We were told that only the old men attended the regular five daily prayers, but during Ramadhan and Eid it gets crowded.
I was jet lagged and after Maghrib [sunset] prayers and supper, I went upstairs to have a lie down in one of the bed rooms I would be sleeping in for the next five nights, in that four bed semi detached house.
I must have drifted off to sleep until I heard a knock at the door, and Harun walked in and said,
“Hasan dad said to wake up and to come downstairs looking presentable. Our future in-laws are here to interrogate you.”
“Charming,” I uttered.
Harun would always say something silly to either scare me or make me laugh.
We looked after each other and bonded like blood brothers for the past six years we had been together.
I was the brother he never had, and vice versa, he would always come to me first if he had a problem or was short of money before he went to his father.
I felt terrified as I sat up and looked at him to regain my composure and collect my thoughts.
I was beginning to think, do I have to go through this kind of ordeal to look at a girl? Was my CV not enough, I hope she was worth it.
In America it was difficult to find a decent girl with moral values, they grew up too quickly without a childhood, and it’s like looking for a needle in a hay stack to find a suitable partner.
We were recommended to meet this family in England but I still had my doubts, as to what this couple was looking for in me and Harun.
“What does our future mother-in-law looks like,” I asked.
“She is English, fat and friendly she had a difficult life. Her parents threw her out on to the streets when she took Abdullah to meet them.
Her brothers beat her and Abdullah, and they both ended up in Casualty, her people don’t like blacks and Asians.
This happened in the late sixties, but they were determined to stay together, her name is Liz. That is all I found out about her.
As for father-in-law Abdullah, he got a degree in Law; but does not use it. He was born on the East Bank of Demerara.
He came here in 1961 to study, and only went back home once when his father died but never took his family with him.”
I got up, had a wash and changed my clothes and went down stairs, ready to be cross-examined by this lawyer and his wife.
I entered the room said Salam to the couple who were sitting next to each other, and shook hands with Abdullah.
I was told by my religious teacher not to come in contact with non Mehram [not closely related] women not even to shake hands with them.
I sat next to uncle Ismael on the large sofa and he asked if I managed to sleep a little, I told him that I dozed off but was still feeling tired.
The woman was looking at me and smiling and then she said, “What subject do you teach in Egypt,”
I thought she got a profile of me, why ask?
“Mathematics and Chemistry,” “Alhamdullah,” I answered.
“What was the meaning of the last one?” she questioned her husband.
He did not respond to her, perhaps he did not know, uncle Ismael then said.
“It’s Arabic; both my boys speak Arabic it meant Praise be to Allah,” [An expression we-Muslims used].
I was waiting for the next question when Nazmoon walked in with tea and cakes for the guests.
The woman turned her attention on the tea in front of her, and said, “You all are invited for tea on Saturday, and in the evening we are going out for a meal.”
I looked at Harun and said in Arabic, “Don’t forget to take your English pounds with you; we might ended up paying for her meal.”
Harun started laughing, Ismael did not think it was funny and looked at both of us and said to the guests.
“These two always joking and laughing. When-ever I ask them what was the joke, they would say its nothing dad.”
Abdullah was slim and tall, light brown in complexion with a few grey hairs on his head, clean-shaven and spoke like a polished English gentleman.
His wife was much shorter, a little over weight with brownish colour hair, green eyes and a friendly smile.
No more questions were thrown at me, instead she told us a little about London, Scotland, and where she was born in Bristol.
Then she asked if we brothers would like to live and work in England, it was an open question, so I did not answer.
The look on uncle Ismael’s face told a different story in fact he was furious.
Maymun answered and said, “My sons can’t make that decision until they see your daughters.”
Husband and wife kept quiet then uncle Musa changed the subject to motor cars, and his job on the British rail.
We all sat and listened in silence to him and the others as they joked and laughed with one another.
Harun and I kept looking at them with their comical behaviour.
Uncle Musa and Abdullah met, when he bought the house he is presently living in from Abdullah.
As they were from the same country they kept in contact with each other and meet up regularly and their wives became good friends.
One day Abdullah told uncle Musa that he was looking for two decent educated or skilled young men for his two grown up daughters.
Nazmoon contacted uncle Ismael and that was how Harun and I came into the picture.
On Saturday our noon prayer and lunch, Maymun reminded me and Harun to dress smartly; we were all going out in the evening from Abdullah’s house to a restaurant for supper.
Ten minutes later Abdullah arrived in his cream Mercedes to take some of us to his house as we all could not fit into uncle Musa’s car.
He took uncle Ismael who sat in the front and Nazmoon and Maymun at the back.
We did not leave immediately until we had a pep talk from uncle Musa.
He told us how old the girls were, and that they were beautiful and educated, and their father was very strict with them.
“He can be controlling and he wants what was best for his girls which was understandable.
You two must look at the girls properly and when we get to the restaurant in the evening sit opposite the one you chose.”
Harun said, what would happen if we chose the same girl, uncle Musa started laughing.
“You guys are funny,” he remarked. “It is unlikely, there are three of them but if this happens we would deal with it.” This match-maker was sure of himself.
Uncle Musa continued; “Ask her questions that you think and feel comfortable with, and why you think she was the right one for you, and don’t be mesmerised by her beauty.”
While we were on our journey through London, I tried to remember what my Arabic teacher had told his students.
He said, a pious woman must be number one, and he elaborated on that subject.
Modesty would fall into place if she is virtuous, [chaste] and beauty, wealth and the rest can follow later.
Harun interrupted my thoughts when he said to uncle Musa. “Only the old people practice Islam over here and the women do not look too modest either around these parts. It is like America.”
“Don’t be negative son,” he said “You will have to teach her, those children went to Madressa when they were little.”
Shortly afterwards we reached our destination; we drove through a private road with small trees and flowering shrubs on either side of the road.
Then we reached a black wrought iron gate which swung opened as we approached and uncle Musa drove through it.
A large detached house stood in the grounds among large potted plants and a colourful front lawn.
He parked up on the drive way where there were two other cars by the side of a closed garage.
The building looked like two semis, combined into one detached house. Abdullah opened the front door and greeted us and took us into his sitting area.
It was richly decorated with expensive
wall paper, sofa that matched the curtains and cushions, furniture and rugs and much more, it was like sitting in Aladdin’s cave.
I read somewhere that an English man’s house is his castle, Abdullah was not an English man by birth, but he certainly lived like one.
He showed me where to sit and he took Harun to the other side, he separated the two of us.
I guess because we conversed in Arabic and laughed, and he was not having any of it or there could be some other motive behind it.
The door suddenly opened, and liz came in carrying a tray of tea and placed it on a large glass top table that stood in the middle of the room, with the steam still pouring out from the top of the mugs.
Nazmoon followed next with one of the daughters behind her, she was dressed in an Asian out fit and looked quite young.
She pulled up a green leather foot-stool and sat next to Abdullah, her father and they were whispering to each other.
She smiled and said that they were coming with the cakes but very nervous in case they dropped it.
Then two other young ladies came into the room holding a tray each with single pieces of cake on a plate.
They placed the tray on another coffee table and then they began to serve us. I was watching the girl walking towards me holding a plate in her hand.
She was wearing a peach coloured Asian outfit, she said Salam and smiled as she handed me the plate of sliced chocolate sponge cake covered with icing on the top.
I noticed that she had a dimple on her right cheek her hair was light brown in colour with brown eyes, slim and pretty, with beautiful complexion.
I was lost for a moment she reminded me of Muna back home. Why did she served me, and the other sister served Harun.
They must have seen us before and made their choice, the one that served me sat on the other side of her father, and the other sister sat on the single sofa.
Abdullah put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and said, ‘This is Hannah, she is 23 years old, and this one is Zainab she is 18, and that one is Fatimah, she is 21.
Fatimah had green eyes like her mum and light brown hair, Zainab looked like her mum, very English; all the girls were beautiful.
Hannah came with the tea, she smiled as she came closer, and handed me the mug of tea, I said, “Thank you,” and she smiled again.
The same was taking place on the opposite side of me, it was like watching a silent movie, with the crockery noise in the background.
Uncle Ismael broke the silence, when he asked Fatimah, whether she was studying or working.
She replied, “Uncle, I am a trainee Midwife.”
“What about you Hannah?” he asked.
“I am a junior school teacher, uncle,” she answered.
After we all finished eating and drinking, the three sisters, collected the dishes and left the room.
While the men and women were chatting among themselves, Harun joined me and said, “The girls picked who they wanted, and I thought it was up to us.”
“What did you think of her?” I asked.
“I like her, he answered, she can deliver all the babies,” and he started laughing.
“What about you,” he enquired.
“She reminded me so much of Muna, when she smiles I thought that I was looking at Muna, right now I am undecided lets see how tonight goes.” I answered.
When it was time for prayer all of us men performed ablution, and left for the mosque, including Ali.
We all stayed on until the sunset prayers, and then we left for the restaurant together.
Abdullah had booked two tables for a party of twelve, six on each table.
The tables were covered over with white table cloth, and had napkins, side plates, knives, forks, and spoons.
When we walked in Abdullah showed Harun where to sit with Ali in the middle and me at the end, all of us facing the entrance.
On the next table he sat with Uncle Ismael and Musa facing the same direction.
When the girls arrived all dressed in long skirts and shirts I was quite impressed with Hannah’s choice of colours.
She wore a floral purple skirt with a plain top and a plain scarf wrapped around her neck.
We greeted the girls, and Hannah sat opposite me, Zainab sat in the middle opposite Ali and Fatimah in front of Harun.
Harun spoke in Arabic and asked me, what he should say to this girl with piercing green eyes.
I myself was unsure, through nervousness I laughed then all the girls began to laugh.
The girl in the middle said, “You two brothers seems very close, us sisters always argue.”
“What do you argue about?” I asked.
“Oh, things like borrowing each other make-up, shoes, and jumpers, that sort of thing,” she answered.
Then Harun finally started a conversation with Fatimah, and I asked Hannah, what age group of children she taught in school. She was well spoken and smiled a lot.
The girls had already ordered everything we were going to eat for that evening but a menu was given to each one of us.
Hannah told me to ignore it as they had already ordered by phone. Drinks were brought in, followed by the starter, and then the main course, which was meat Biryani, salad and various sauces.
Hannah and I continued to chat, she asked me what type of food I usually eat in Egypt, and that she would love to travel to the Middle East, and learn Arabic.
By now I was hypnotize by this beautiful young woman sitting in front of me and looking at me as I spoke.
She was trying her best to answer some of the questions I put to her and I was thinking that I would teach her Arabic myself if we were destined to be together.
If all went well in this match-making process, I would like to meet up with her again for another chat before I left London.
Ali who was listening to our conversation remarked, “You heard what dad said that none of you are going to live abroad.”
“Shut up Ali and mind your own business,” Hannah remarked. Ali had now let slip what we were not expecting with his comments.
If Harun and I were interested in these two sisters, we would have to live in England, which I was not prepared to do right now.
I was thinking to move to Kuwait for a better job and pay to bring up a family.
Now I was not going to push my luck, and let destiny take over. Hannah told me that she needed some religious guidance; we all continued to talk, laugh and joke among ourselves.
They seemed comfortable with us and told us that they would like to take us sight-seeing in London before we left.
Fatimah turned to Ali and said, “You are not invited.”
“Dad would not allow it if I am not there,” he answered.
She looked at me and Harun and whispered, “He is our dad’s ears and eyes. Wait till his turn comes, we are going to do the same to him.”
We were all laughing and Ali got vexed, “Girls, he hissed, they all pick on me.”
I felt sorry for him and wanted to give him a hug, but his father was looking at us.
Harun then said according to Islam Ali is right, he should accompany his sisters, it’s called Mehram, until they are married, then their husbands would fill that gap.
Hannah remarked, “We do not have any knowledge of Islam, our dad did not teach us.”
The girls were sociable than we had expected. When the third course was brought in as ordered the three sisters wanted to have a taste from our bowl of ice-cream.
Hannah asked me if she could, when I said it’s alright, the three of them dipped their spoons into my dish.
The same was happening to Harun, and they let us have a taste from their dishes.
The sisters were over-powering. It seemed like a done deal to them, that they had caught two small fish to put in their expensive pond.
I was curious to find out whether the girls over here behaved in this manner like these three sisters.
Harun and I never went out with girls before, [Islamic code of conduct] and it seem
ed odd to watch these sisters so relaxed with us total strangers.
Before we left the restaurant, Fatimah in a whispering voice said, that they would pick us up the next day for a tour of London.
“Please check with your parents first,” I told her.
“Ali is coming, it should be alright,” she answered.
I was beginning to think that these girls had done this sort of thing before and doubts began to creep into my mind. No one is perfect, but I was still inquisitive to find out.
When we left the restaurant and came outside, Liz took her children home in her black BMW.
Abdullah drove the women and uncle Ismael, and uncle Musa took me and Harun with him.
My first question to uncle Musa was, how come the girls chose who they were interested in, and not us.
He said that the girls and their mother were at the Airport when I arrived and saw me and Harun together.
They picked who they wanted to get married to, he was innocent of all that and only found out when they came out of the Mosque and Ali blurted it out.
Harun asked if those girls saw any other men before us. He replied, he did not know and asked why.
Harun remarked, “The girls were not shy, they were eating from our plate like we were already married.”
“We saw that,” he replied, “Abdullah was kissing his teeth, and shaking his head with embarrassment.”
Uncle Musa asked if both of us were happy with our choice. “I like Hannah,” I replied “But I could see that there were lots of barriers to break down where Abdullah was concerned, he does not want to let go of his daughters.”
“What about you, Harun?” he enquired.
“Undecided, uncle,” he answered.
When we got indoors, nothing was said we all prayed our Salah and went to bed.
Next morning at breakfast, Maymun said, “There were some amusing antics on your table last night Harun, what were you and Hasan saying to those girls?” she enquired.
“Nothing mum, they ordered something they did not like, so they ate from our plate,” he replied. “I think they did that deliberately.”
Uncle Ismael said, Abdullah told him on their way home last night, that the two brothers could find work over here, until he was ready to get his daughters married after Fatimah finished her training in eighteen months time.
Ravi the Unknown Prince Page 8