> “Oh Mom, I actually wanted to do an assignment on your phone. I entered while you were bathing… Here’s the phone, I couldn’t unlock it with the key.”
Mom looked at her suspiciously. She knew Nasmat had her own phone, and even if not, she had access to their system.
> “What even brought her into my room?” Mom asked silently.
Mom collected the phone, frowned, and said:
> “I heard my phone ringing in the bathroom. Did you pick it?”
> “No Mom, I didn’t…”
But when Mom checked the phone, there was no missed call.
> “Nasmat, I don’t like lies. Did you pick it or not?”
> “Mom, I didn’t.”
> “If you wanted to do an assignment with my phone, where is your phone? And where is your system? And why didn’t you borrow your sister’s?”
> “Mom, I don’t know where my phone is. Salmah and I had a fight, so she won’t give me hers. Our system subscription has expired… Please Mom, help me. I don’t want to miss the assignment.”
> “Well, I’m about to go out. Let’s go to your sister so I can beg her to give you the phone or help you find yours. You’re too troublesome, Nasmat.”
In her mind, Nasmat muttered:
> “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She quickly added:
> “Never mind, I’ll go collect money from Dad and head to the café.”
> “Where are you going? It should be you visiting him,” Mom replied.
> “Why? Because someone is sick? Oh, you mean you’re still not feeling well?”
She returned to their room and found Salmah lying down, though clearly not asleep. Nasmat opened her wardrobe, retrieved her own phone, grabbed a pillow, and lay on the carpet—she had resolved never to share the bed with Salmah again. Still bitter, she walked out like someone possessed and went to her mom’s room.
Excuse to Enter Mom's Room
> “I just remembered, Dad said I should call both you and Salmah.”
> “So now it’s Salmah, not ‘Anty’ anymore?” Mom asked sarcastically.
Nasmat walked out, unwilling to let her Mom sweet-talk her.
Dad’s Interrogation and Family Tension
Salmah was informed:
> “If you’ve made up your mind, Dad is calling.”
Nasmat headed to where her dad was. She sat on one of the luxurious couches.
> “Daughter, you’re just returning from your errand?” he asked.
> “Dad, I forgot.”
> “Okay, have you called them yet?”
> “A—”
Salmah entered. From first glance, it was clear she was troubled. Her face was pale. She knelt beside Dad.
> “Where’s your mother?” he asked.
> “She’s getting ready,” she replied.
Mom indeed knew how to dress up well. She also came in and said flirtatiously:
> “My man, I heard you were asking for me only after I finished getting ready.”
Dad looked at her admiringly.
> “Even in your neighborhood, people don’t ask for their husbands until they’re fully dressed.”
He spoke while his attention was on Salmah, specifically eyeing her chest. He imagined if Salmah would just agree, even for a little while...
Nasmat noticed Mom’s gaze and said:
> “So you’re on the same team…”
Dad cleared his throat:
> “We’ll talk later. Since you’re heading out, we’ll sit when you return.”
She kissed his forehead and whispered:
> “My man, I love you.”
He stood up:
> “Let me give you something.”
She knew his intentions, but she was uninterested. Except for her children, nothing would tie her down to a man.
Mother-Daughter Tension Escalates
Mom got close to Salmah, hugged her:
> “My daughter, are you sick?”
> “No, Mom. Just a headache.”
> “Have you taken your meds?”
> “I’ll take them when I return.”
Nasmat hissed repeatedly, drawing their attention.
> “What’s wrong with you, Nasmat? Why are you making those sounds like we’re your mates?”
> “Mom, leave her. Maybe it’s the headache talking,” Salmah said, though clearly irritated. “But honestly, she’s annoying.”
Mom thought of a plan—she wished it was just her and Salmah in the living room.
She headed to Dad’s room, not wanting to, but also not wanting to regret it later.
Once inside, she said sharply:
> “Please, I’m not in the mood. Leave me, let me go.”
> “If you want to frustrate me, say it plainly. But don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on. You know I’m a man. I’m not an angel. I have desires like everyone else.”
> “So what, you want to chase random women?”
> “Fear God, Nusaiba. Marriage isn’t a joke.”
She thought to herself: He’s just wasting my time with this sermon.
Accusation and Chaos Between Sisters
Nasmat turned to Salmah:
> “Please let me ask you something.”
No response.
> “Do you get pleasure from… you know, this kind of thing? Or how much do you make in a month?”
Salmah didn’t understand the question and kept quiet.
> “I knew you wouldn’t answer. You push men away because of this ‘thing’ you do. May Allah guide you. This kind of temptation scares me.”
> “What are you talking about? I don’t even understand you.”
> “You’re shameless. But don’t try me. I swear, if this continues, you’ll see what happens.”
> “It’s better to be shameless than to die slowly in major sins like this—women with women. May Allah guide you!”
Salmah attacked her, grabbed her fiercely:
> “You must explain what you mean! If not, may the jinn kill me!”
A physical fight broke out.
Family Dedication Note (Author’s Section)
> Dedicated to the One Family One Love Group — my family group: Hafsta, Rabi’atu, Khadija, Zainab, Rukaiyya, Hauwa’u, Fatima, Amina, and myself Haleemah.
The fight continued. They were both panting; no winner emerged.
Salmah stopped upon remembering her vow not to fight her sister again, especially knowing their dad would take her side.
They started insulting each other verbally.
Dad, who had just stepped out of the shower, said:
> “I thought I heard noise in the living room?”
Mom continued brushing her hair, saying:
> “You’ll hear noise since you’ve ruined my plans.”
> “I thought you said you didn’t want to be close to me anymore?”
> “Yes, I said that. Please don’t push me into regretting things.”
He smirked and asked:
> “Shall we go another round? You seem ready.”
> “Is that how you see me? As food you want to go for seconds?”
> “You’re better than food, my dear.”
She scoffed:
> “After all the stress, you’re still not satisfied?”
> “You amaze me. After all these years, you still haven’t gotten used to it?”
> “If Salmah were married, we’d have grandkids by now.”
> “You think you're old, but I see you as fresh and youthful.”
> “Stop the sweet talk. I know you just want to act like a boy again.”
> “Let me try again before I leave—maybe we’ll get a baby.”
He laughed and left.
Emotional Breakdown and Final Accusations
Dad returned to the living room and found them both silent. He signaled for them to come closer. They knelt before him.
He asked Salmah to explain. She teared up:
> “Dad, since the day she was discharged, she started acting strangely toward me. Even at the hospital, you didn’t ask what happened between us before making your decision. One day I borrowed her hijab to pray, and she started insulting me. I kept quiet because of my promise. But today, she accused me falsely… Dad, if I don’t have a right in this house, then let me leave. I’ll apply for a visa and go somewhere I’m respected.”
She cried. Dad consoled her.
He turned to Nasmat:
> “Explain.”
She hesitated:
> “Dad, the day I was discharged, she gave me her phone to call you. While searching for your contact, I accidentally opened a message. When she saw it, she accused me of invading her privacy. Dad, Salmah is a lesbian!”
Dad slapped her hard.
> “Are you mad?! You called your sister that? Have you lost your mind?!”
> “Dad, it’s not her fault. I should have explained earlier,” Salmah interjected.
> “And you, why didn’t you tell me someone sent you such messages?”
> “Dad, I have no boyfriend. I’m not involved in le
sbianism.”
Nasmat, sobbing and touching her slapped cheek, said:
> “If she’s not into such things, why does she hate talking about marriage? Why is she never happy when someone proposes to her? That alone is proof. I won’t rest until I find evidence to erase her image from my heart.”
As she tried to stand, Dad yelled:
> “Did I say you could move?! Sit down, you stubborn girl!”
Description
Caught with Mom’s Phone
As soon as she stepped out, she bumped into Mom.
> “Oh Mom, I actually wanted to do an assignment on your phone. I entered while you were bathing… Here’s the phone, I couldn’t unlock it with the key.”
Mom looked at her suspiciously. She knew Nasmat had her own phone, and even if not, she had access to their system.
> “What even brought her into my room?” Mom asked silently.
Mom collected the phone, frowned, and said:
> “I heard my phone ringing in the bathroom. Did you pick it?”
> “No Mom, I didn’t…”
But when Mom checked the phone, there was no missed call.
> “Nasmat, I don’t like lies. Did you pick it or not?”
> “Mom, I didn’t.”
> “If you wanted to do an assignment with my phone, where is your phone? And where is your system? And why didn’t you borrow your sister’s?”
> “Mom, I don’t know where my phone is. Salmah and I had a fight, so she won’t give me hers. Our system subscription has expired… Please Mom, help me. I don’t want to miss the assignment.”
> “Well, I’m about to go out. Let’s go to your sister so I can beg her to give you the phone or help you find yours. You’re too troublesome, Nasmat.”
In her mind, Nasmat muttered:
> “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
She quickly added:
> “Never mind, I’ll go collect money from Dad and head to the café.”
> “Where are you going? It should be you visiting him,” Mom replied.
> “Why? Because someone is sick? Oh, you mean you’re still not feeling well?”
She returned to their room and found Salmah lying down, though clearly not asleep. Nasmat opened her wardrobe, retrieved her own phone, grabbed a pillow, and lay on the carpet—she had resolved never to share the bed with Salmah again. Still bitter, she walked out like someone possessed and went to her mom’s room.
Excuse to Enter Mom's Room
> “I just remembered, Dad said I should call both you and Salmah.”
> “So now it’s Salmah, not ‘Anty’ anymore?” Mom asked sarcastically.
Nasmat walked out, unwilling to let her Mom sweet-talk her.
Dad’s Interrogation and Family Tension
Salmah was informed:
> “If you’ve made up your mind, Dad is calling.”
Nasmat headed to where her dad was. She sat on one of the luxurious couches.
> “Daughter, you’re just returning from your errand?” he asked.
> “Dad, I forgot.”
> “Okay, have you called them yet?”
> “A—”
Salmah entered. From first glance, it was clear she was troubled. Her face was pale. She knelt beside Dad.
> “Where’s your mother?” he asked.
> “She’s getting ready,” she replied.
Mom indeed knew how to dress up well. She also came in and said flirtatiously:
> “My man, I heard you were asking for me only after I finished getting ready.”
Dad looked at her admiringly.
> “Even in your neighborhood, people don’t ask for their husbands until they’re fully dressed.”
He spoke while his attention was on Salmah, specifically eyeing her chest. He imagined if Salmah would just agree, even for a little while...
Nasmat noticed Mom’s gaze and said:
> “So you’re on the same team…”
Dad cleared his throat:
> “We’ll talk later. Since you’re heading out, we’ll sit when you return.”
She kissed his forehead and whispered:
> “My man, I love you.”
He stood up:
> “Let me give you something.”
She knew his intentions, but she was uninterested. Except for her children, nothing would tie her down to a man.
Mother-Daughter Tension Escalates
Mom got close to Salmah, hugged her:
> “My daughter, are you sick?”
> “No, Mom. Just a headache.”
> “Have you taken your meds?”
> “I’ll take them when I return.”
Nasmat hissed repeatedly, drawing their attention.
> “What’s wrong with you, Nasmat? Why are you making those sounds like we’re your mates?”
> “Mom, leave her. Maybe it’s the headache talking,” Salmah said, though clearly irritated. “But honestly, she’s annoying.”
Mom thought of a plan—she wished it was just her and Salmah in the living room.
She headed to Dad’s room, not wanting to, but also not wanting to regret it later.
Once inside, she said sharply:
> “Please, I’m not in the mood. Leave me, let me go.”
> “If you want to frustrate me, say it plainly. But don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on. You know I’m a man. I’m not an angel. I have desires like everyone else.”
> “So what, you want to chase random women?”
> “Fear God, Nusaiba. Marriage isn’t a joke.”
She thought to herself: He’s just wasting my time with this sermon.
Accusation and Chaos Between Sisters
Nasmat turned to Salmah:
> “Please let me ask you something.”
No response.
> “Do you get pleasure from… you know, this kind of thing? Or how much do you make in a month?”
Salmah didn’t understand the question and kept quiet.
> “I knew you wouldn’t answer. You push men away because of this ‘thing’ you do. May Allah guide you. This kind of temptation scares me.”
> “What are you talking about? I don’t even understand you.”
> “You’re shameless. But don’t try me. I swear, if this continues, you’ll see what happens.”
> “It’s better to be shameless than to die slowly in major sins like this—women with women. May Allah guide you!”
Salmah attacked her, grabbed her fiercely:
> “You must explain what you mean! If not, may the jinn kill me!”
A physical fight broke out.
Family Dedication Note (Author’s Section)
> Dedicated to the One Family One Love Group — my family group: Hafsta, Rabi’atu, Khadija, Zainab, Rukaiyya, Hauwa’u, Fatima, Amina, and myself Haleemah.
Brothers: Yusuf, Abubakar, Muhammad, Umar, Isma’il, Zakariya, Ibrahim, Sulaiman.
May Allah increase our love and unity.
Climax: Confrontation with Dad
The fight continued. They were both panting; no winner emerged.
Salmah stopped upon remembering her vow not to fight her sister again, especially knowing their dad would take her side.
They started insulting each other verbally.
Dad, who had just stepped out of the shower, said:
> “I thought I heard noise in the living room?”
Mom continued brushing her hair, saying:
> “You’ll hear noise since you’ve ruined my plans.”
> “I thought you said you didn’t want to be close to me anymore?”
> “Yes, I said that. Please don’t push me into regretting things.”
He smirked and asked:
> “Shall we go another round? You seem ready.”
> “Is that how you see me? As food you want to go for seconds?”
> “You’re better than food, my dear.”
She scoffed:
> “After all the stress, you’re still not satisfied?”
> “You amaze me. After all these years, you still haven’t gotten used to it?”
> “If Salmah were married, we’d have grandkids by now.”
> “You think you're old, but I see you as fresh and youthful.”
> “Stop the sweet talk. I know you just want to act like a boy again.”
> “Let me try again before I leave—maybe we’ll get a baby.”
He laughed and left.
Emotional Breakdown and Final Accusations
Dad returned to the living room and found them both silent. He signaled for them to come closer. They knelt before him.
He asked Salmah to explain. She teared up:
> “Dad, since the day she was discharged, she started acting strangely toward me. Even at the hospital, you didn’t ask what happened between us before making your decision. One day I borrowed her hijab to pray, and she started insulting me. I kept quiet because of my promise. But today, she accused me falsely… Dad, if I don’t have a right in this house, then let me leave. I’ll apply for a visa and go somewhere I’m respected.”
She cried. Dad consoled her.
He turned to Nasmat:
> “Explain.”
She hesitated:
> “Dad, the day I was discharged, she gave me her phone to call you. While searching for your contact, I accidentally opened a message. When she saw it, she accused me of invading her privacy. Dad, Salmah is a lesbian!”
Dad slapped her hard.
> “Are you mad?! You called your sister that? Have you lost your mind?!”
> “Dad, it’s not her fault. I should have explained earlier,” Salmah interjected.
> “And you, why didn’t you tell me someone sent you such messages?”
> “Dad, I have no boyfriend. I’m not involved in le
sbianism.”
Nasmat, sobbing and touching her slapped cheek, said:
> “If she’s not into such things, why does she hate talking about marriage? Why is she never happy when someone proposes to her? That alone is proof. I won’t rest until I find evidence to erase her image from my heart.”
As she tried to stand, Dad yelled:
> “Did I say you could move?! Sit down, you stubborn girl!”