أمةالله

29/10/2025

*Q1:* Is it okay to say “I’m unlucky” when something doesn’t go my way?
*A:* As Muslims, we believe in Qadr — Allah’s perfect decree. Nothing happens by luck or coincidence. Everything is written with wisdom.

“Say, Nothing will ever befall us except what Allah has destined for us; He is our Protector.” — Surah At-Tawbah (9:51)

*Q2:* I often forget the verses I memorize. Does that mean my effort is wasted?
*A:* Not at all. Every attempt is recorded as reward. Forgetting doesn’t erase your effort; it’s a reminder to review more often. Keep trying — consistency is key.

“Be regular in revising the Qur’an, for it escapes from the hearts faster than camels run away.” — (Bukhari)

*Q3:* I sometimes feel lazy to pray. Does that mean I’m a bad Muslim?
A: No. It means you’re human. Even the strongest believers have moments of weakness — but they push through. When you feel lazy, remind yourself that Salah is your lifeline to Allah, not a burden.

“Indeed, prayer restrains from shameful and unjust deeds.” — Surah Al-‘Ankabut (29:45)

*Q4:* Can I make du’a in my own language?
*A:* Absolutely. Allah understands every language, every whisper, every tear. You can call upon Him in the language that your heart flows best in.
“And when My servants ask you concerning Me — indeed I am near...” — Surah Al-Baqarah (2:186)

*Q5:* Is wearing the hijab only about covering my hair?
*A:* No, hijab is much more than a cloth on the head — it’s a sign of modesty, faith, and dignity. It covers not only the body but also the way we carry ourselves.

“O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to draw their cloaks over themselves...” — Surah Al-Ahzab (33:59)

🩵 The real beauty of a Muslimah shines in her obedience to Allah, not in her exposure to the world.

*Q6:* If I’m at school and my wudu breaks, can I delay Salah until I get home?
*A:* If the prayer time will still be valid when you reach home, yes, you can delay it. But if not, try to pray at school — even if it’s in a quiet corner.

“Indeed, prayer has been decreed upon the believers at fixed times.” — Surah An-Nisa (4:103)

✨ Never be shy to pray — it’s your appointment with the King of all kings.

*Q7:* What things make Salah invalid?
*A:* Some of the most common are:

1. Losing wudu (passing wind, using the toilet, bleeding (Heavy bleeding from wound), etc.)

2. Speaking deliberately during Salah.

3. Eating or drinking.

4. Laughing loudly.

5. Facing away from the Qiblah without reason.

6. Uncovering the awrah (body parts that must be covered in Salah).

Always check your purity and your covering before Salah — small care brings big reward.

*Q8:* If I discover impurity (like urine or menstrual stains) on my clothes after praying, is my Salah accepted?
*A:* If you truly didn’t know about it or forgot, your prayer is still valid — Allah is Most Merciful. But once you notice it, clean or change your clothing for next time.

“Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.” — Surah Al-Baqarah (2:286)

*Q9:* If I’m on my period and I can’t read or touch the Qur’an, how do I still stay close to Allah during those days?

*A:* Menstruation is a natural phase decreed by Allah — it’s not impurity of the soul, only a physical state.

You can still be close to Allah in so many ways:

1. Dhikr & Du’a:
Keep your tongue moist with remembrance — SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, La ilaha illa Allah, Allahu Akbar.

2. Listening to Qur’an:
You can listen, reflect, and ponder — the heart connects even if the hands cannot touch.

3. Reading tafsir or translation
According to many scholars, you may read the Qur’an on your phone or from memory for reflection — as long as you don’t physically touch a mushaf.

4. Do acts of kindness, charity, or helping others
These are all worship in Allah’s sight.

“Indeed, Allah does not look at your forms or wealth, but He looks at your hearts and your deeds.”
— (Sahih Muslim 2564)

So, your heart can worship Allah even when your body is at rest. 🌸

*Q10:* If I have makeup or nail polish on, can I perform wudu and pray without removing it?

*A:* This depends on whether the makeup or polish blocks water from reaching your skin or nails.

If it creates a layer (like most nail polish, foundation, or matte lipstick), then wudu is not valid until it’s removed.

But if it’s absorbed or powdery, like light face powder, kohl, or lip balm — it’s fine to pray with it.

✨ Wudu means washing — and water must reach the skin for it to count.
So, removing barriers is part of purity before prayer. 🌸

“Allah loves those who purify themselves.”
— (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:222)

🍃May Allah accept our Ibadah and surround us with His endless mercy.

29/10/2025

*🌸 Renew Your Faith Daily*

Iman (faith) isn’t something we receive once and keep forever — it fades, softens, and needs renewal, just like our hearts need water after a dry season.

Even the companions of the Prophet ﷺ felt it. Ḥanẓalah رضي الله عنه once said,

“Ḥanẓalah has become a hypocrite!”
When the Prophet ﷺ asked why, he replied,
“When we are with you, our faith rises, but when we return to our families, we forget.”
The Prophet ﷺ said:
“If you remained in the state you are in when you are with me, the angels would greet you in your beds and in your roads. But, Ḥanẓalah, time should be devoted (to different things).”

(Muslim 2750)

Faith ebbs and flows, but Allah has given us tools to renew it — and the *Qur’an* is one of the greatest of them. 🌸

*Be close to the Qur’an — no matter how little*

You don’t have to memorize it all, but let it live in your heart.
Recite even a few verses daily — they polish the heart like gentle rain over dry soil.

Allah says:

“And We have certainly made the Qur’an easy for remembrance, so is there any who will remember?”
(Qur’an 54:17)

And also:

“Indeed, those who recite the Book of Allah, establish prayer, and spend from what We have provided them — secretly and publicly — can expect a profit that will never perish.”
(Qur’an 35:29)

Each verse you memorize — even if it’s just one — is a light, a companion in your grave, and a witness for you on the Day of Judgment.

🌿 So renew your faith daily — through Qur’an, dhikr, and small sincere acts.
Because the heart forgets, but Allah never forgets the one who turns back to Him. 🤍

22/10/2025

🌷 When It’s Not Your Turn Yet 🌷

Sometimes, watching others receive what you’ve prayed for so long can stir something deep in your heart — a quiet ache between happiness for them and longing for yourself.

But remember this: delay is not denial.
Allah’s timing is never off by a heartbeat. What feels like waiting is actually preparing.
He’s shaping you with patience, refining your intentions, and protecting your dream until it’s safe in your hands.

Maybe it’s not that you’re behind — maybe your path simply needs a little more time to bloom. 🌸

So celebrate others with a sincere heart, and whisper to yourself,

“My time will come too, by Allah’s mercy.”

Because it will.
And when it does, you’ll realize the wait was part of the gift.

🤍 May Allah grant ease to all those waiting for their own beautiful turn, bless our efforts, and make us content with His decree.
Aameen.

22/10/2025

22/10/2025

*🕌 How to Complete Missed Rak’ah(s) When You Join Salah Late*

Sometimes we join the congregational prayer after it has already begun — and it can be confusing to know how to make up the Rak’ah(s) we missed.

This visual guide is a simple reminder:

✨ After the Imam says Taslim, stand up and complete the Rak’ah(s) you missed.

The two opinions you see in these Salah charts usually come from differences among the major schools of Islamic jurisprudence (madhāhib) — mainly Hanafi and Shafi’i/Maliki/Hanbali.

Here’s a breakdown 👇

•••

🕌 Opinion 1 (What you missed is the beginning of your prayer)

Held by: Hanafi scholars

Explanation:
They say that what you pray after the imam finishes is actually the first part of your Salah that you missed.

For example, if you missed the first rak’ah of Dhuhr, when you stand to complete it, you should recite Al-Fatihah + another Surah (just like in the first rak’ah of a normal prayer).

•••

🕌 Opinion 2 (What you caught is the beginning of your prayer)

Held by: Shafi’i, Maliki, and Hanbali scholars

Explanation:
They say that what you catch with the imam is considered the first part of your Salah, not the last.

So, if you caught only the last rak’ah of Dhuhr, when you stand to make up the rest, your first make-up rak’ah will be treated as your second rak’ah (reciting only Al-Fatihah without another Surah).

•••

✅ Both opinions are valid and supported by classical scholars — the difference is in interpretation, not contradiction.
So, a Muslim should follow the view of their school of thought or the one taught by their local imam.

⚠️ *Important:* If you arrive late to the congregational prayer and find the Imam already in sujūd (prostration), do not bow (make rukū‘) trying to “catch” that rak‘ah.

That rak‘ah is not validly caught unless you join the Imam in rukū‘ while he is still in rukū‘.

👉 If the Imam has already risen from rukū‘ or gone into sujūd, you have missed that rak‘ah — simply join the prayer from where the Imam is, and make up that missed rak‘ah after the Imam finishes the Salah.

🌸

Hope this helps.

Let’s continue striving to perfect our Salah with understanding and sincerity 🤍

May Allah accept our Ibadah and grant us His endless mercy. 🌙🤲

20/10/2025

Title: Faith in a New World
Written by: Balqees - Noor & Rizq

Chapter Thirty-Five
When the Storm Finally Passed...

The air on campus felt lighter, like the walls themselves were sighing in relief.
After two full weeks of back-to-back exams, the tension that once choked the atmosphere had finally loosened. The students’ faces now carried the faint glow of victory — or at least, survival.

For Khadeejah, Sofiyyah, Zaynab, and Maryam, the past weeks had been a marathon of sleepless nights, endless cups of tea, and whispered du’as before every paper.

The first few days had been brutal.
Questions that seemed simple during revision suddenly looked like riddles on the screen. The CBT timer ticked faster than usual — or so it felt.
There were times they walked out of the hall speechless, each one trying to guess from the other’s expression how the paper went.

“Wallāhi, I don’t even know whether to cry or laugh,” Zaynab had said after their second paper. “One question came out exactly from what we revised, but my brain just… froze. It’s like my neurons went on strike.”

Khadeejah had laughed so hard she almost tripped. “That’s what you get for skipping breakfast. Even your neurons are protesting hunger.”

Sofiyyah had shaken her head, smiling. “At least you saw something you read. Me, I was just smiling at the system like I understood what I was reading. Subhānallāh.”

Their shared laughter after every exam had been their therapy.
Even when they felt drained, the comfort of walking together back from the hall, narrating their blunders and near misses, was enough to keep them sane.

Maryam, who had become a firm part of their circle, often joined them after each paper. She had quickly adapted to their rhythm — alternating between serious reflection and playful teasing.

She once said, “You people are too funny wallāhi. Imagine, I entered the hall with full confidence, thinking I’d destroy the paper. I came out destroyed instead.”
That earned a round of laughter so loud that a few students nearby turned to look at them.

Still, despite the jokes, they all knew how hard they’d worked.
There were nights when they’d be on call together, reading, revising, and quizzing each other. Sometimes, one of them would doze off mid-call, and the others would quietly continue until Fajr.

Khadeejah, being the most disciplined among them, often reminded them,

“We asked Allah to make it easy. Now, let’s show Him we mean it.”

And truly, they did. They studied with sincerity, prayed with desperation, and reminded each other that tawakkul wasn’t about folding arms, but about striving hard and trusting Allah to handle the unseen.

By the final paper, exhaustion was visible on everyone’s faces.
As they left the hall that last day, the relief was so strong that Sofiyyah raised both hands and whispered, “Alhamdulillāh! If only you people know how many times I nearly fainted this week.”

Zaynab jumped beside her, waving her bag dramatically. “We made it! No more past questions, no more caffeine, no more system errors! Freedom is here!”

Khadeejah chuckled quietly, the calmest of them as usual. “Freedom until results drop. That’s when we’ll know who really conquered.”

“Abeg, don’t spoil the mood,” Zaynab said, throwing a mock glare her way.

The laughter continued all the way to the school gate, their steps lighter than they’d been in weeks.

That night, each of them returned to their hostels and slept like babies — uninterrupted, dreamless sleep that only comes after long days of struggle. The next morning, the world seemed new again.

Now, a week stood between them and home.

They’d decided to spend the coming days resting, visiting one another, and doing small things that reminded them of who they were outside the exam rush — maybe bake again, maybe stroll around campus at sunset, maybe just sit together and talk about everything and nothing.

Maryam had texted in the group:

“Can you people believe the storm is actually over?”
Sofiyyah replied almost immediately,
“Over ke? I’m still recovering. My brain needs rebooting.”
Zaynab added a meme of someone sleeping in sujūd, captioned ‘me till next semester.’
And Khadeejah, as always, concluded the thread with something grounding:
“Alhamdulillāh for His mercy. We worked hard, but He made it easy.”

That message stayed pinned in the chat — a gentle reminder of Who carried them through the storm.

The sisters decided to make the most of their remaining days together before returning home for the long holiday. After all, the next time they’d gather like this might be months away.

It started with a casual message from Zaynab in the group chat:

“My people, we suffered together. Let’s at least enjoy together before going home, abi?”

And that was it. The others instantly agreed.

By Monday, they began their “post-exam retreat.”
They met up at Khadeejah’s hostel that afternoon, each bringing something small — snacks, juice, fruits, and of course, gist. The moment they all settled in, the room was filled with laughter and the kind of peace only sincere companionship could bring.

“Subhānallāh,” Maryam said, looking around the room. “Can you people believe we actually survived that semester? It feels like a dream.”

“Survived ke?” Sofiyyah teased, “Somebody almost fainted during the second paper. Who was that again?”

Zaynab placed a hand on her chest dramatically. “Ah! Don’t remind me jare. I was praying silently that the system wouldn’t freeze while my heart was freezing already.”

They all burst into laughter until Khadeejah, who had been quietly smiling, said softly,

“It was Allah all through. We should never forget that.”

“Ameen,” the others chorused.

The next few days rolled by in a rhythm of serenity.
Sometimes they’d cook together — rice one day, pancakes the next. Sometimes they’d just sit outside in the evening breeze, talking about random things like food cravings, family gist, or future goals.

Two days before they were all set to travel, they decided to have a sleepover at Sofiyyah’s hostel.
It was nothing fancy — just mattresses on the floor, warm food, and soft hearts.

Zaynab brought chin chin and groundnut.
Khadeejah came with her Quran and a flask of tea.
Maryam baked simple cupcakes and wrapped them neatly in foil paper.

After praying Ishā, they gathered in a small circle, and Khadeejah suggested,

“Let’s read some Qur’an before we gist away the whole night.”

They each recited a few verses, taking turns, correcting one another gently when needed. The calmness that followed their recitation was indescribable — it was as if tranquility itself sat among them.

Then came the gist session.
They spoke about their childhoods, the most embarrassing moments they’d ever had, and even the funny misunderstandings people had about them.

“Can you people imagine,” Maryam said, laughing, “my neighbor once told me she thought I was too serious to ever laugh. If only she saw me here!”

Zaynab clapped her hands. “Please! Nobody can out-laugh you. You even laugh in your sleep.”

“Eh, who told you that?”

Sofiyyah raised her hand shyly. “That night during the project week. You giggled out of nowhere. I almost screamed.”

The whole room burst into laughter again.

When the laughter subsided, they lay down under the soft glow of a small lamp, talking in whispers about the future — marriage, careers, dreams.

Zaynab said, half-serious, half-teasing, “I just pray Allah gives us spouses that will make us laugh and pray with us the same way we do here.”

“Ameen,” they all replied with smiles that carried the weight of hope.

By the time they drifted off to sleep, their hearts were full — full of love for one another, and full of gratitude to Allah who had tied their paths together so beautifully.

At dawn, the soft glow of morning slipped through the curtains as they finished their Fajr prayer together. Their Qur’ans lay open, and their hearts were wrapped in the kind of peace only Allah could give.

The next day, as they began packing for their journey home, it was hard to ignore the slight sadness lingering beneath the excitement. But they reminded each other of the promise they made:

“Distance won’t break what Allah joined.”

And with that, they sealed their final week on campus — a week filled with laughter, Qur’an, du’a, and memories that would live in their hearts long.

The hum of engines filled the park as their buses began to move. With each wave and smile, they carried away memories of late-night talks, shared du’as, and sisterhood that had become family.

©️ ✍_ Balqees - Noor & Rizq

20/10/2025

Title: Faith in a New World
Written by: Balqees - Noor & Rizq

Chapter Thirty-four
Before the Bell Rings...

The second semester had rolled by faster than any of them expected.
Continuous assessments were over, and the campus atmosphere had changed completely. The once-bubbly hallways now echoed with whispers of revision and shuffling slippers. Everyone was in survival mode — fuelled by caffeine, stress, and tawakkul.

By the time the exam timetable finally dropped, messages flooded the department group chat like heavy rain.
And, of course, it was Zaynab who saw it first.

Zaynab: “It’s out ooo Exam timetable don finally land. I’m not ready!”

Khadeejah: “Innalillah send it here jor before my heart start racing unnecessarily.”

Sofiyyah: “Ya Allah, this is the moment of truth but Alhamdulillah, at least no more guessing.”

Maryam: “Wait, what?! Already? I still have notes to finish .”

Within minutes, the girls had the timetable copied, color-coded, and shared. Each of them had different days, but they all agreed on one thing: this semester had flown by in a blink.

That evening, they hopped on a group video call. Zaynab was stirring something in a pot, her camera slightly tilted toward her steaming noodles.

“Zaynab, you can never sit still when we call,” Khadeejah teased.

“Please, don’t stress me. Exam tension requires food therapy,” Zaynab said, laughing.

“So when's everyone’s first paper?” Sofiyyah asked, flipping through her jotter.

“Mine’s on Tuesday,” Khadeejah replied.

“Monday for me,” Sofiyyah said.

“Tuesday too,” Zaynab added, slurping her noodles.

“Wednesday,” Maryam said, sighing. “And I’ve already started having heart palpitations.”

They all burst into laughter.

“Maryam, you worry too much,” Zaynab said between laughs. “Don’t let your BP rise before the exam even starts.”

“Easy for you to say,” Maryam replied, smiling. “You probably have photographic memory.”

“If only you knew the number of sticky notes in my room,” Zaynab shot back.

The laughter softened into small talk — how their week had been, how group assignments went, and the random chaos of campus life.

Khadeejah leaned back on her pillow. “You know, I can’t believe this semester is almost over. SubhānAllāh. Feels like we just resumed.”

“True,” Sofiyyah agreed. “We’ve been through a lot — missed classes, stress, that whole CA panic, and somehow… we’re still smiling.”

“Because Allah has been merciful,” Maryam said softly. “We don’t thank Him enough for strength, honestly.”

Silence fell for a few seconds — the comfortable kind. Then, Zaynab broke it, dramatically waving her spoon.

“Enough of this deep talk abeg. Let’s read tomorrow, cry on Wednesday, and celebrate on Friday.”

They all laughed till tears almost rolled.

—

By Friday afternoon, after Jummah, the four of them met near the Faculty Garden — their favorite spot since first semester. The sun was mild, the wind calm, and the sound of Qur’an from the nearby masjid floated softly in the air.

They spread a mat under one of the trees and unpacked snacks — chin-chin, puff-puff, and water bottles. Books lay open, but half the time they were just gisting.

“This place has seen all our stress,” Khadeejah said, chewing slowly.

“And all our laughter,” Sofiyyah added.

“And my tears from last CA,” Maryam said, chuckling. “Remember how I almost cried because of that physiology test?”

“Almost?” Zaynab laughed. “You did cry, my dear.”

They all burst out laughing again, making a few people passing by turn to smile at their joy.

“You know,” Maryam said after a while, looking around, “meeting you all was one of the best things that happened to me this semester.”

“Awwn,” Zaynab teased, holding her chest. “Somebody’s getting emotional o.”

Khadeejah smiled. “Alhamdulillah. That means a lot, Maryam. We thank Allah for joining our hearts in good.”

Maryam nodded, eyes soft. “You people didn’t even judge me when I was struggling with dressing modestly. You just showed love and encouraged me.”

“That’s what sisterhood means,” Sofiyyah said gently. “Slow progress is still progress. Allah sees your effort.”

“Exactly,” Khadeejah added. “And the fact that you’re trying for His sake is already a big step.”

Maryam smiled, feeling warmth spread through her chest. “You all make it easy to stay consistent.”

“We move together,” Zaynab said, clapping once. “If one person’s imaan is shaking, the others pull her up. Deal?”

“Deal,” they echoed, laughing.

The Adhān for Asr began in the distance, the familiar melody rolling through the breeze. They packed their books and stood.

“Tomorrow, same time?” Maryam asked.

“In shā’ Allāh,” Khadeejah replied. “Let’s pray first before hunger turns to another trial.”

They laughed, walking toward the masjid, hearts light despite the looming exams — bound together by faith, friendship, and a shared sense of purpose.

©️ ✍_ Balqees - Noor & Rizq

20/10/2025

Title: Faith in a New World
Written by: Balqees - Noor & Rizq

Chapter Thirty-Three
Hearts and Reflections...

The weekend came with a calmness that felt almost planned — a cloudy morning, light breeze, and the scent of rain somewhere distant. The sisters had decided to meet at Sofiyyah’s hostel for their Qur’an session that day, and by 10:00 a.m., the room was alive with quiet chatter, open mushafs, and steaming mugs of black tea.

Maryam was already seated cross-legged on the soft mat, her recitation slow and careful. Zaynab sat beside her, nodding rhythmically as she followed along. Khadeejah corrected a few tajweed mistakes gently, her tone soft and motherly.

“Masha Allah, Maryam, you’re improving so fast,” she said with a proud smile.
“Wallahi, I’m trying,” Maryam replied shyly. “Sometimes I still mix up my ghunnah and madd though.”
“That’s part of the journey,” Sofiyyah encouraged. “Even those of us who’ve been learning for years still need correction.”

Zaynab took a sip of her tea and said,

“You see why I love this group? No judgment, just growth. I used to skip Qur’an practice before exams, now I feel weird if I don’t read at least a page a day.”

The others smiled.

They continued reciting until dhuhr approached. After prayer, they all sat together again — the atmosphere peaceful, hearts light.

“Let’s talk about something different,” Zaynab said, breaking the silence with her usual energy. “We’ve finished a project, last semester's results are out, and Alhamdulillah we’re growing spiritually. But what about our dreams — like, what do we see ourselves doing after school?”

Khadeejah smiled faintly, thinking.

“For me, I want to pursue Islamic psychology. I’ve seen how people struggle emotionally but are afraid to speak up. I want to be there for them in a way that aligns with deen.”

“SubhanAllah,” Maryam said softly, “that’s so needed. May Allah make it easy for you.”

“Ameen,” they all chorused.

Zaynab leaned back dramatically.

“For me, I’ll combine my salon skills with Islamic ethics. Like, imagine a full Muslimah spa franchise — hijab-friendly, relaxing, halal everything. I’ll call it ‘ZayGlam Halal Touch’.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

“ZayGlam?” Sofiyyah teased. “That sounds like a hijabi superhero brand!”

“Ehen! Because Muslim women deserve to shine too!” Zaynab said proudly.

After the laughter faded, Sofiyyah smiled, her eyes softening.

“You both have beautiful plans.”

Maryam tilted her head. “And you, Sofiyyah?”

Sofiyyah looked down, playing with the edge of her hijab.

“Me… I want to run a small creative business. Maybe open a modest fashion line for young Muslim women. Something simple but elegant.”

“Hmm,” Zaynab hummed suspiciously. “You sound like someone hiding gist.”

Sofiyyah looked up, feigning surprise. “What gist again?”

“Don’t play innocent o,” Zaynab said, raising her brow. “Remember that brother who tried to talk to you back then? The one who used to say salam after every lecture?”

The other girls turned to Sofiyyah instantly, grinning.

“Ah, Zaynab!” Sofiyyah exclaimed, hiding her face with her palm. “You never forget, do you?”

“Never! Oya, talk true. What happened?”

Khadeejah giggled. “Let her breathe, Zaynab. You know she’s blushing already.”

“I’m not blushing!” Sofiyyah protested — but her pink cheeks betrayed her.

She sighed and leaned back.

“Okay, fine. That brother — I wasn’t interested, honestly. But… there’s someone else. A family friend. My dad’s friend’s son.”

The room went quiet, then erupted in soft gasps.

“Ehn?!” Zaynab’s eyes widened. “Sofiyyah, you’ve been holding gist from us all this while?”

“It’s not like that,” she said, giggling nervously. “He’s a very respectful brother, mashaa Allah. He’s done with school and currently serving in Abuja. We’ve known each other since childhood, but recently he’s been more intentional, you know… checking up, showing concern.”

Maryam smiled warmly. “Aww, that’s sweet. And your parents?”

“They know him,” she said softly. “Even my mum likes him, but we haven’t discussed anything serious yet. I’m just praying for guidance. I don’t want emotions to lead me astray.”

Khadeejah nodded approvingly.

“That’s the best mindset, Sofiyyah. It’s beautiful when things are built on respect and intentions are clear. Keep making du’a for Allah to guide your heart.”

“And if he’s truly the one,” Zaynab added playfully, “we’ll all wear matching jilbabs on your nikkah day.”

They burst into laughter again, the room filled with lighthearted teasing.

“Zaynab, calm down,” Sofiyyah laughed. “We’re not even there yet!”

“Ehen, we’re planning ahead! You never know,” Maryam said, giggling. “We’ll form bridesmaids — Muslimah edition.”

The laughter faded into soft smiles and content silence.

Asr approached, and they all prayed together. When they finished, Khadeejah raised her hands.

“Let’s make du’a for each other.”

So they did — quietly, sincerely. For success, for guidance, for righteous companionship, and for steadfastness in faith.

When they opened their eyes, Zaynab whispered,

“You know, sometimes I wonder what I did right to meet you all.”

Maryam smiled, blinking away tears.

“Allah knows how to gather hearts that belong together.”

That evening, as they shared one last meal before parting, the girls laughed till their sides hurt, told stories about campus life, and made promises to never let distance weaken their bond.

It was one of those days that would live in their memories forever — the day faith, friendship, and sisterhood intertwined perfectly.

©️ ✍_ Balqees - Noor & Rizq

19/10/2025

Title: The Companion Who Refused to Bow — Even to a King

Once during the caliphate of ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (RA), a group of Muslim soldiers were captured by the Romans. Among them was a companion named Abdullah ibn Hudhafah al-Sahmi (RA) — a man of incredible faith.

He was taken before the Roman Emperor, who admired his bravery and wanted him to abandon Islam.

The emperor said,

“Become a Christian, and I’ll set you free.”
Abdullah replied firmly,
“If you gave me everything you own, and everything the Arabs own, I would never leave the religion of Muhammad ﷺ.”

The emperor then threatened,

“I will kill you.”
And Abdullah calmly said,
“It is Allah’s will — do as you wish.”

The emperor ordered that Abdullah be thrown into boiling oil.
Before that, he saw one of his Muslim companions thrown in — and he watched as the man’s body burned.

Abdullah began to weep.
The emperor thought he had finally broken, so he asked,

“Are you crying because you fear death?”

Abdullah replied:

“No. I cry because I have only one soul — I wish I could be killed in this way a thousand times for the sake of Allah.”

The emperor was amazed.

In the end, the emperor released Abdullah — not because he gave in, but because the emperor respected his strength and faith.
When Abdullah returned to Madinah and told ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (RA) what had happened, ʿUmar stood up and kissed his forehead, saying:

“Every Muslim should kiss the forehead of Abdullah ibn Hudhafah!”

🌸 Lesson for Us Today

Abdullah’s story teaches us that true faith doesn’t bend to fear, power, or temptation.
When you hold firmly to what’s right — even if the whole world stands against you — Allah raises your honor beyond kings and crowns.

Sometimes the greatest victory is not survival, but steadfastness.
Even when the test is hard, remember: faith is freedom.

اللهم اجعل إيماننا أثبت من الجبال، وصبرنا أجمل عند الشدائد، وثقتنا بك لا تهتز أبداً.

Transliteration:
Allāhummajʿal īmānanā athbata min al-jibāl, wa ṣabranā ajmala ʿinda ash-shadāʾid, wa thiqatanā bika lā tahtazzu abadan.

O Allah, make our faith firmer than the mountains,
our patience more beautiful in hardship,
and our trust in You unshakable forever.