Chapter 10 – The Jealous Wives
When Sakina and Maryam returned to the house that day after the discussion, something happened that neither of them had prepared their hearts for.
As they entered the compound, the children ran out happily. But what shocked them most was not the noise or the laughter—it was who the children ran to.
“Mother Ameera!” one of Maryam’s children shouted joyfully.
“Mama!” Sakina’s little boy cried as he jumped into Ameera’s arms.
Ameera laughed softly, holding them close, fixing one child’s hijab and wiping dust from another’s face. The children surrounded her, pulling her hands, asking her to play, telling her stories, laughing freely.
Sakina stopped walking.
Maryam froze.
They looked at each other in disbelief.
Maryam whispered, “Are they… calling her mother?”
Sakina’s voice trembled. “My son… he never used to smile like that.”
They stood there silently, watching as the children played around Ameera—some climbing onto her lap, some sitting beside her, others begging her to tell them a story.
One of the children said happily, “Mama Ameera, Daddy said we should listen to you.”
Ameera smiled. “And you should listen to your fathers and mothers too.”
Maryam felt a sharp pain in her chest.
“How?” Maryam whispered. “After all we did to her… how did she win their hearts?”
Sakina’s eyes filled with tears. “Because she loved them when we chose hatred.”
They remembered the past—the insults, the accusations, the court case, the days Ameera cried alone. And yet, here she was, being called mother by children who were not hers by blood.
Maryam covered her face. “I never imagined this.”
Sakina nodded slowly. “We fought her… but she raised our children.”
For the first time, shame replaced jealousy in their hearts.
Before they could say anything, Maikudi came out and cleared his throat. “You should be going now. I will speak with your parents.”
Sakina and Maryam nodded silently. As they left, they turned back one last time and saw the children still clinging to Ameera, laughing.
That image followed them all the way home.
That night, Maikudi kept his word.
He called their parents.
“I have forgiven them,” he said calmly. “There is no more divorce. They may return.”
On the other end of the phone, there was silence—then sudden cries of joy.
“Allahu Akbar!” Sakina’s father shouted.
Maryam’s mother began to cry. “This is a blessing we never expected.”
The news spread quickly. That night, both families gathered. There was happiness, relief, and gratitude. People praised Maikudi for his patience and wisdom.
But Sakina stood up and spoke.
“Please,” she said firmly, “do not praise us.”
The room became quiet.
“This forgiveness,” she continued, “did not happen because we deserved it. It happened because of Ameera.”
Her parents looked surprised.
Maryam then spoke, her voice shaking. “We planned evil against her. We accused her falsely. Yet she stood by us. She raised our children. She spoke for us when we had no voice.”
Tears rolled down Maryam’s cheeks. “Without Ameera, we would still be outside, broken.”
The parents were shocked.
Sakina’s mother whispered, “SubhanAllah…”
Maryam’s father lowered his head. “We misjudged her.”
Sakina added, “We promise you all—before Allah—that we will go and seek Ameera’s forgiveness ourselves.”
The parents agreed immediately.
“She deserves honor,” one of them said.
That night ended with gratitude instead of jealousy, with regret instead of pride, and with a realization that patience and good character can soften even the hardest hearts.
And for the first time since the beginning of their trials, the jealous wives truly understood the value of the woman they once tried to destroy.
Chapter 10 Continuation – The Jealous Wives
That morning came with a calm breeze, the kind that carried hope quietly without announcing itself. Ameera had just finished preparing breakfast when laughter filled the compound. She paused and listened. Children’s voices—many voices—mixing together in happiness.
Outside, Sakina arrived with her parents, her brothers, and her sisters. Almost at the same time, Maryam’s family arrived as well, including her parents and siblings. They all stepped into the compound together, unsure of what they would meet.
What they saw stopped them in their tracks.
All the children—Ameera’s children, Sakina’s child, and Maryam’s children—were playing together freely. They ran around the compound, laughing, chasing one another, calling out joyfully. There was no separation, no fear, no bitterness. It was as though one woman had given birth to them all.
One of Sakina’s sisters whispered, “SubhanAllah… look at them.”
Maryam’s mother covered her mouth in shock. “Are these really the same children we left behind?”
Just then, the children noticed the visitors.
“Grandpa!”
“Grandma!”
“Mama!”
They ran toward them excitedly, greeting their grandparents with hugs and respect, then running to Sakina and Maryam, holding their hands happily.
Tears immediately flowed.
Sakina’s mother began to cry openly. “Ya Allah… what is this mercy?”
Maryam’s father wiped his eyes. “We were afraid of what we would meet. But look…”
Ameera stepped forward calmly and greeted them respectfully. “Assalamu alaikum.”
They all responded warmly, some holding her hands, some embracing her.
“You are welcome,” Ameera said gently. “Please, come inside.”
They entered the house together. The atmosphere was light, full of warmth. The children followed behind, still laughing.
When Maikudi was informed that the families had arrived, he came out quickly. His face lit up with joy when he saw everyone gathered peacefully.
“Welcome,” he said warmly. “You are all welcome.”
They exchanged greetings, laughter, and prayers. Everyone sat in the parlor, the children sitting on the floor nearby, listening and playing quietly.
For a moment, no one spoke—until Sakina’s father cleared his throat.
“My son,” he said, turning to Maikudi, “we thank Allah for softening your heart.”
Maikudi nodded humbly. “It is Allah alone.”
Then Sakina’s father turned toward Ameera. He stood up, his voice heavy with emotion.
“My daughter,” he said, “we have come today not as elders, but as people seeking forgiveness.”
The room became silent.
Sakina’s mother joined him, kneeling slightly. “We failed you. We believed lies. We judged you wrongly.”
Maryam’s father stood up as well. “You were accused falsely. Yet you raised children that were not yours. You protected them when their mothers were not here.”
Maryam’s mother added through tears, “We are ashamed.”
Sakina herself stood up, crying. “Forgive me. I allowed jealousy to destroy me.”
Maryam followed, her voice breaking. “I wronged you deeply. I spoke evil. I planned evil. I am sorry.”
All eyes turned to Ameera.
She stood slowly, her face calm, her heart steady.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said softly.
They looked at her in surprise.
“I forgave you long ago,” Ameera continued. “I removed everything from my heart the day I decided to leave my affairs to Allah.”
Tears filled the room.
“I never hated you,” she said, turning to Sakina and Maryam. “I only wanted peace. I only wanted Allah’s pleasure.”
Unable to hold back, Sakina rushed forward and embraced Ameera.
Maryam joined them, crying loudly.
They held each other—not as rivals, not as enemies—but as sisters.
The parents watched in awe.
One of Sakina’s brothers whispered, “This is true strength.”
Soon, the children joined them, hugging all three women together.
“Mama!” they laughed.
The tension that once lived in that house vanished completely.
Food was brought out—plates upon plates. Everyone ate together, laughing, sharing stories, remembering the past not with pain, but with lessons.
The parlor was filled with joy. The house that once echoed with accusations now echoed with gratitude.
That day became a turning point.
From that moment onward, Ameera, Sakina, and Maryam were no longer enemies shaped by jealousy—but women shaped by forgiveness, patience, and mercy.
And the jealous wives finally learned that love, when guided by faith, always wins.
To Be Continue Inshallah.....
©AHMAD ZAHIR ENAGI ABU KHALIF
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