Khadra picks up a bright green flyer.
FIRST TIME EVER AT THE DAWAH CONFERENCEISLAMIC ENTERTAINMENT CONCERTS FOR MUSLIM YOUTH!
• Nasheeds by Phat in the Phaith!
• Hijab Hip-Hop by Nia Group!
• Spoken Word to Your Mother, then Your Mother, then Your Mother-with Brother Bilal!
• Special Performance by The Clash of Civilizations! (Islamic behavior and attire required of all youth attending. Responsible adult chaperones to supervise. Concerts strictly in accordance with shariah restrictions as per Dawah Conference Committee Guidebook on Islamic Rules for Entertainment Programs.)
Was Hijab Hip-Hop a girl group? Hunh. The Dawah has evolved, Khadra muses, stuffing the flyer in her bag.
The Clash of Civilizations is her brother's band-her little brother Jihad. It's an eclectic group of boys. Sort of a Muslim John Cougar Mellencamp meets Wes Montgomery, with a Donny Osmond twist. There's Jihad and an African American Muslim teen from Gary named, coincidentally, Garry, but with two rs. Garry Abdullah. The Osmond twist is the Mormon component, Brig and Riley Whitcomb. They're leaving out the instruments this gig, singing a capella, so it will be acceptable to conservative Muslims who have issues with musical instruments.
Of the thousands of people at the conference, she keeps running into Hakim. Here he is at the Union cafe.
"Good to see you again, Sister Khadra," he says stiffly. An invisible veil falls over his face now, a curtain that keeps her out.
Sister? He never called her that before. It seems to be for the benefit of a cluster of conference brothers ordering coffee ahead of them, who recognize him and nod.
"You know what, I think I'm going to go ahead and get coffee, Sister," he says, edging away from her.
"You know what, Hakim, me too." She steps right next to him, directly behind the group of bearded brothers.
"How's your mother?" she says sweetly. The brothers in front of them glance around at Imam Hakim, then back at Khadra.
"Fine, praise God," he mumbles. Khadra remembers that she heard his wife had gone heavy traditional on him during their latest stint in Mecca, and taken to niqab and black gloves, even back in the States. Did Mahasen go full-steam Wahhabi?
"And how's your wife? Any little ones on the way?" Khadra presses on, knowing she's being just as obnoxious as the aunties who used to pry into whether or not she was pregnant during her brief marriage.
"We-we-" He has a look of extreme discomfort on his face.
Khadra is immediately sorry. She only meant to be a little pushy. "Never mind," she says hastily. "That was forward of me."
His expression shifts, as if he's undecided, weighing, and then he shrugs and says, "I might as well tell you. I was just talking about it with your brother this morning. I'm ready to tell friends," he says. Now his tone of voice is normal. He orders coffee.
It's nice to be acknowledged as a friend, Khadra thinks, even if you can't shake hands or hug. "House coffee please," she says. "Goodness, no, just the small size. Thanks." They walk to a table and set the cups down. Khadra sits but Hakim stays standing awkwardly.
"We've divorced," Hakim says. "Mahasen and I got a divorce about seven months ago." A brother in the group of beards who are now clustered at a nearby table shoots a sideways glance at him.
"I'm sorry," Khadra says. Imam Hakim with those famous khutbas on marriage! `The couple that reads Quran together, stays together!' She used to listen to the tapes during her own marriage troubles. "Is it-is it final, then?"
"Yeah. The iddah is over and all. We tried to get back but it didn't work." Hakim pulls out a chair across from her and sits down, ignoring the curious brothers at the next table. Khadra hopes that means he will spill the beans. What was his divorce about?
"Mahasen and I were going in different directions," he begins carefully.
"Really?" Khadra says with equal care. Did Mahasen leave him or did he leave her?
"Alhamdulilah," Hakim says.
FIRST TIME EVER AT THE DAWAH CONFERENCEISLAMIC ENTERTAINMENT CONCERTS FOR MUSLIM YOUTH!
• Nasheeds by Phat in the Phaith!
• Hijab Hip-Hop by Nia Group!
• Spoken Word to Your Mother, then Your Mother, then Your Mother-with Brother Bilal!
• Special Performance by The Clash of Civilizations! (Islamic behavior and attire required of all youth attending. Responsible adult chaperones to supervise. Concerts strictly in accordance with shariah restrictions as per Dawah Conference Committee Guidebook on Islamic Rules for Entertainment Programs.)
Was Hijab Hip-Hop a girl group? Hunh. The Dawah has evolved, Khadra muses, stuffing the flyer in her bag.
The Clash of Civilizations is her brother's band-her little brother Jihad. It's an eclectic group of boys. Sort of a Muslim John Cougar Mellencamp meets Wes Montgomery, with a Donny Osmond twist. There's Jihad and an African American Muslim teen from Gary named, coincidentally, Garry, but with two rs. Garry Abdullah. The Osmond twist is the Mormon component, Brig and Riley Whitcomb. They're leaving out the instruments this gig, singing a capella, so it will be acceptable to conservative Muslims who have issues with musical instruments.
Of the thousands of people at the conference, she keeps running into Hakim. Here he is at the Union cafe.
"Good to see you again, Sister Khadra," he says stiffly. An invisible veil falls over his face now, a curtain that keeps her out.
Sister? He never called her that before. It seems to be for the benefit of a cluster of conference brothers ordering coffee ahead of them, who recognize him and nod.
"You know what, I think I'm going to go ahead and get coffee, Sister," he says, edging away from her.
"You know what, Hakim, me too." She steps right next to him, directly behind the group of bearded brothers.
"How's your mother?" she says sweetly. The brothers in front of them glance around at Imam Hakim, then back at Khadra.
"Fine, praise God," he mumbles. Khadra remembers that she heard his wife had gone heavy traditional on him during their latest stint in Mecca, and taken to niqab and black gloves, even back in the States. Did Mahasen go full-steam Wahhabi?
"And how's your wife? Any little ones on the way?" Khadra presses on, knowing she's being just as obnoxious as the aunties who used to pry into whether or not she was pregnant during her brief marriage.
"We-we-" He has a look of extreme discomfort on his face.
Khadra is immediately sorry. She only meant to be a little pushy. "Never mind," she says hastily. "That was forward of me."
His expression shifts, as if he's undecided, weighing, and then he shrugs and says, "I might as well tell you. I was just talking about it with your brother this morning. I'm ready to tell friends," he says. Now his tone of voice is normal. He orders coffee.
It's nice to be acknowledged as a friend, Khadra thinks, even if you can't shake hands or hug. "House coffee please," she says. "Goodness, no, just the small size. Thanks." They walk to a table and set the cups down. Khadra sits but Hakim stays standing awkwardly.
"We've divorced," Hakim says. "Mahasen and I got a divorce about seven months ago." A brother in the group of beards who are now clustered at a nearby table shoots a sideways glance at him.
"I'm sorry," Khadra says. Imam Hakim with those famous khutbas on marriage! `The couple that reads Quran together, stays together!' She used to listen to the tapes during her own marriage troubles. "Is it-is it final, then?"
"Yeah. The iddah is over and all. We tried to get back but it didn't work." Hakim pulls out a chair across from her and sits down, ignoring the curious brothers at the next table. Khadra hopes that means he will spill the beans. What was his divorce about?
"Mahasen and I were going in different directions," he begins carefully.
"Really?" Khadra says with equal care. Did Mahasen leave him or did he leave her?
"Alhamdulilah," Hakim says.
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