Episode 4 – Family Walls

The aroma of cardamom tea filled the Rahman household as Amira sat with her mother in the living room. The patterned rug beneath them carried memories of countless family conversations, both lighthearted and serious.

Her mother, Iman, stirred her tea slowly, her eyes fixed on Amira with a quiet intensity. “Daughter,” she began, her tone careful but direct, “you’re twenty now. Have you thought about marriage?”

Amira’s hand froze mid-turn of a book page. Her heart stilled. “Marriage?” she echoed softly.

“Yes,” her mother said, nodding. “You’ve focused on your studies beautifully, and I’m proud of you. But it is our responsibility to think ahead. Some families have already asked about you.”

Amira’s fingers tightened around the book. Her heart whispered another name entirely—Zayd—but her lips remained silent. She forced a small smile. “Mama, I still have my degree to finish.”

Her mother’s gaze softened. “Of course. But when the right proposal comes, we shouldn’t delay.”

Amira lowered her eyes, her heart aching with a truth she could not share. Ya Allah, is this where my test begins?

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✦

Across town, Zayd sat in the modest warmth of his family’s home. His older brother Yusuf leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes sharp with concern.

“You’ve been restless lately,” Yusuf said bluntly. “And don’t tell me it’s just the workload.”

Zayd closed his laptop, meeting his brother’s gaze. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Yusuf pressed. “You’re distracted. And I know why.”

Zayd sighed. He should have expected this—Yusuf had always read him too well. “There’s someone,” he admitted, his voice steady. “But I’ve done nothing wrong. No messages, no meetings outside of necessity. I’ve only admired her… quietly.”

Yusuf’s jaw tightened. “Admiration is the first step toward attachment. Be careful, Zayd. Feelings can cloud judgment.”

“I know,” Zayd replied firmly. “That’s why I’ve made dua. If she is written for me, Allah will open the doors. If not, then I’ll let it go.”

Yusuf studied him for a long moment before softening, his expression easing with reluctant understanding. “Who is she?”

Zayd hesitated. “A classmate. Amira Rahman.”

The name lingered in the air like a secret finally unveiled.

Yusuf exhaled slowly. “If you’re serious, Zayd, don’t let this drag into something doubtful. If she’s the one, go through the right doors. Involve the families. Otherwise, don’t play with her heart—or your own.”

Zayd nodded, his resolve tightening. He’s right. If this is from Allah, it must be halal from the beginning.

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✦

The next week, fate pushed Amira and Zayd closer once again.

They crossed paths at the library—Amira balancing a stack of books, Zayd holding rolled sketches under his arm. Their eyes met briefly before both quickly looked away. Respect lingered, but so did something more.

Zayd stepped aside, holding the door for her. “After you.”

“JazakAllahu khair,” she murmured.

He gave a small nod. “Wa iyyak.”

They didn’t speak further, but the silence between them was alive. Every word unsaid pressed at their hearts.

Later that night, as Amira lay awake, her mother’s words echoed. Marriage proposals. Families asking. Her chest tightened. But what if… what if the one my heart leans toward never comes forward?

Meanwhile, across town, Zayd sat at his desk, hands folded. His thoughts circled relentlessly. Should I speak to her family? Or is it too soon? What if I’m not enough?

He whispered into the quiet of the night. “Ya Allah, make me strong enough to pursue this in the halal way, or strong enough to walk away if it is not for me.”

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✦

A week later, the Rahman family hosted guests—an old family friend bringing a proposal for Amira.

She sat quietly in the corner as the families exchanged polite conversation. The suitor, a young businessman, smiled confidently, speaking of his career and future. He seemed… suitable. On paper, he checked all the boxes.

But Amira’s heart felt heavy, every word reminding her of the unspoken name etched within her chest. She smiled politely, but inside she whispered, Ya Allah, guide me. Don’t let me wrong this man, or myself.

That night, she prayed long into the evening, forehead pressed against the cool ground. Her tears wet the prayer mat.

“Ya Allah, if my heart is clinging to what is not mine, take it away from me gently. But if Zayd is good for me, open the doors, no matter how impossible they seem.”

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✦

Meanwhile, Zayd wrestled with his own storm.

He approached his father cautiously one evening. “Baba… if I were to… consider marriage, would you support me?”

His father looked at him over his glasses, surprised but thoughtful. “Marriage? You’re still studying, Zayd.”

“I know,” Zayd admitted. “But if the right person is there, should we delay?”

His father studied him closely. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Zayd’s silence was answer enough.

His father sighed softly. “If she is righteous, if her deen is strong, then we will support you. But remember, marriage is not built on feelings alone. It needs patience, responsibility, and sacrifice.”

Zayd lowered his gaze, heart pounding. “I understand.”

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✦

The walls of family expectations began to rise slowly around them.

For Amira, it was her parents mentioning proposals, reminding her that time waits for no one. For Zayd, it was his brother’s warnings and his father’s cautious guidance.

And in the middle, two hearts whispered the same prayer, across different rooms, under the same sky.

Ya Allah, if this is good for us, make it easy. If not, protect us from it.

But as both would soon learn, dua was only the beginning.

Because love written in dua must first walk through the walls of family.

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