Chapter 1: The Prologue
My name is Syeda Zahra Aynoor Reza- Ahmedi. I am a young 20 year old British Muslim woman. My parents are both from Pakistan. Other than that, I am the same as everyone else. Oh yeah, and I'm also a disabled person who uses an electric wheelchair.
You see, I suffer from a rare genetic illness called Osteogenesis Imperfecta/ OI/ Brittle Bones which basically means that my bones break easier than other people's. This has meant that I have broken and fractured many bones growing up and means I'm smaller in size and weaker in strength.
I'm a Shi'a Muslim so I often feel even more like a minority within a minority and I wear the hijab. I am passionate about my faith and even write Islamic poetry. I am a part time director in a small independent Muslim film production company and go to university the rest of the time, studying Media Production. Other than that, I love reading books, watching movies, eating chocolate and going shopping. I love being myself and love my life, my home, my family, my job and my community.
Life was great and I didn't mind being single. I mean, I have always considered myself a feminist, believing that a woman is definitely not defined by a man and that men and woman are equal, as supported by the core teachings of Islam. This was what I was always taught. As a disabled person, I had worked so hard to be as independent as possible and I felt that maybe, getting married would mean I would have to explain and answer so many more questions and defend myself and my choice as many may think I am going against my feminist identity and giving away my independence for a man.
I would have to answer questions related to negative cultural stereotypes like "does my husband beat me up and do I have to be obedient to him?" And also questions like "is it fair that I want to conceive a child that has a 50% chance of inheriting my genetic disability."
However, there were times after I turned 16 where my British friends had someone to love and cuddle and shower with affectionate kisses and I just didn't. Or after I turned 18 when my Muslim friends and relatives were getting married but I was always overlooked when it came to guys in my community asking me for marriage. Even my parents were doubtful and I bet a little worried about finding a husband for me and they certainly never raised the topic. Luckily for me, due to my disability, their criteria for finding the perfect spouse for me wasn't as long as some people's.
I was a hopeless romantic, binging on tons of romantic movies in my teens, watching dozens of seemingly traditionally 'beautiful' women achieve their dreams and get the man, all the while thinking this is not something I can ever do. When meddling aunties in the mosque were matchmaking, my name was never even mentioned, like I was never an option. Growing up I thought, maybe, as a disabled woman, I would never get married and find true love.
That at best, I would live a single life and at worst, I may consent to have an arranged marriage and though my new husband may look innocent, he would not love me, never touch me and consider me nothing but a burden. Or even worse, that maybe he would abuse me and hurt me. These thoughts haunted my mind at times.
(I drew this very rough approximate picture of him the day we met.)
But then I met Syed Ali AbdulHakim Ahmedi. He is a 24 year old British Shi'a Muslim, incredibly handsome and sweet guy. He comes from a mixed ethnic background as his mother is from Pakistan and his father is from Iran. He is the head journalist of London's local newspaper. We both live in London and meet through going to the Mosque though we also attended the same university in the same department, doing different courses at different times.
Before we met face to face, I would hear my father compliment him after majalis and Friday prayers as a young man who took his faith seriously, a true gentleman. I remember hearing his soothing voice echoing from the speakers in the ladies side of the imambargah as he would recite the Quran, nasheeds and latmiyas so eloquently.
I would close my eyes and listen carefully as he recited beautifully and it would unleash a chain of emotions within me, not knowing whose voice was responsible for such melodies in remembrance and praise of God.
We started off by talking occasionally as he would walk me home from the mosque, then we meet in a coffee shop before exchanging phone numbers. A month later, he proposed that if we are both serious about each other, we should have our parents meet.
I am very nervous about this at first but I know it's the right thing to do if I ever want to marry Ali. I agree and the next day arrives...
Glossary
Syeda/Syed - An individual born from the lineage of Prophet Muhammad.
Shia - A sect in the religion of Islam, a minority. We believe in the 12 infallible leaders after the Holy Prophet Muhammad.
Hijab- What Muslim women wear on their head as a symbol of their devotion to God and of modesty and chastity. Otherwise known as a headscarf
Mosque - Muslim place of worship
Imambargah- A Centre designed especially for Shi'a Muslims where prayers and talks are held.
Quran - The Muslim Holy book revealed to the Prophet Muhammad as a guide for mankind.
Nasheed - Celebratory poetry set to a tune in Farsi, Urdu, Arabic and English amongst other languages and dialects in remembrance and celebration of God and his Prophet and His prophet's family.
Latmiya - Lamentations in Farsi, Urdu, Arabic and English amongst other languages and dialects in remembrance and mourning of the death anniversaries of the family of the holy Prophet Muhammad PBUH.
