You remember how giggly I was on the first day of campus?
I was obsessed over what I wore and how I looked.
Now its my first day at UKZN but all I can think about is whether my laundry will dry by the time I come back from campus.
As we sat in traffic on Musgrave Road I had a “why am I doing this?” moment.
I didn’t think I would go back to campus.
And again, I don’t know anyone here.
Its hard for me to make friends.
I am sure I am not going to have friends here.
But at least I have my hubby.
So I get my admin sorted out early and then start going to lectures.
I don’t have that many lectures so hopefully it won’t affect my housework.
I still want to cook nice things for my husband but I guess there would be a lot less pressure now that we are on our own.
In my first lecture I sat next to a group of Muslim girls that were really odd.
They laughed at everything.
At first I was annoyed but their laughter was so infectious.
I started laughing too.
Then when they saw that I joined in their laughter they erupted in a louder fit of laughter.
These girls were cray, cray.
I chose media studies, English, sociology and psych.
I know… it seems a little disjointed but I guess its all interesting subjects.
Honestly speaking, I was just there to pass time.
English seemed a lot harder than anticipated, psych was interesting but confusing and sociology was just a lot of bogus theories.
At around 2pm I was done for the day and decided to go to the JK.
That is where most Muslim girls hang out.
The vibe at UKZN’s JK was different from UJ.
It was chilled and they had wifi.
Also, a lot of people use it to study.
Oh, and they had a microwave to warm your lunch.
When I walked in there were a few girls studying and a few resting.
There wasn’t crazy chatter and everyone seemed to mind their own business.
The bathroom was different though.
Those crazy laughing girls were there.
And guess what they were doing? Yes. Laughing.
The one girl was red with laughter.
The other girl was almost on the floor as she was clutching her tummy.
There HAS to be something wrong with these girls!
Eventually they calmed down.
“Are you okay?” I asked cautiously.
“Yes… We are just crazy! We are so overwhelmed with work. So we laugh,” the one girl said.
I started laughing too.
I guess when there is nothing else you can do, laugh.
They seemed to be a really nice bunch- but immature.
They were studying Psych as their majors and so media studies was just a filler.
I wanted to leave at around 3 but Suhail was only going to be done at 5!
I had to wait for him!
So I decided to get my textbooks.
But it took me 15 minutes to get done and I still had to wait for Suhail.
So I went and sat in the study room adjacent to the JK.
Apparently that is where the punchaat happens.
One girl was tearing because she was told that if she fails one more time she will be excluded from university.
I introduced myself and made small talk.
Most of the girls there were studying fluffy degrees like me.
I guess that’s why they have time to chill around.
But I could sense some politics when I asked about the MSA.
I don’t know what was the issue but there was definitely an issue.
Finally Suhail messaged me.
Hubby: Hun, I am ready to leave.
Me: Okay I am coming down.
Hubby: Sorry to keep you waiting.
Me: Its no problem. See you soon.
As I gathered my stuff to leave I saw two girls moving the curtain and peaking down at the guy’s prayer section.
“That is the one. Cute right?” the one said.
“Yeah. I think he is doing his masters in engineering.”
“He is knew… we must find out.”
Why are you not excited about our high tea to raise funds for Palestine.
It is going to be AMZING!
We have had some queries about the price of the tickets, and while we wanted a maximum amount of money to go to Palestine, we want to make it affordable for everyone.
So we reduced the ticket price to R250 per lady so that everyone is able to join in and assist the people of Palestine. (Once you confirm your seat you can pay on the day.)
Watch out later for an update on what’s in store for the guests.
Come join us! Email me for tickets firstname.lastname@example.org or call 0823739545.
Oh, and tell everyone.
You don’t want to miss this one!
There has been a host of interest in our High Tea event in collaboration with Lifestyle with Safeera Kaka and Cii Projects.
We only have 150 tickets on sale and ALL proceeds go to the Gaza Ambulance drive.
So why should you come?
-High on my love list is the venue.
Shepstone Gardens is stunning. Scratch that. It is unbelievable. You mouth will hang open in awe- as mine does.
I had no idea this great, great beauty is down the road from my house, tucked away in a side road close to Houghton, Johannesburg.
Besides our amazing menu, we also have incredible treats lined up for our guests.
If you looking for a treat to change your life, then C’est mon Macron will. I promise you.
And they were so kind as to give us freshly made macarons for the function. Seriously, you will be dying for more.
Cupcakes from I love Cake by Mehnaaz. Need I say more?
Edible artwork from Mariam Fakir… and tons of other things.
Spa vouchers up for grabs from Seven Seas Spa. Everyone gets one.
- The line-up
Who doesn’t know the inspirational Safeera Kaka who would be hosting the show live on Cii!
We also have the author of Why Israel, Suraya Dadoo, who is an ocean of information.
And of course, we do want to know why we should BDS. We have the ever friendly Sumayya Omar from BDS South Africa who will make a presentation.
This is just the half of it.
We have tons of gifts to give away. But more than anything else, while the high tea promises to be an amazing morning, it is for a sincere cause.
We can get together, socialise, lean from each other but, most importantly, reaffirm our commitment to uplifting humanity.
It is always about purpose and perspective.
-The cause, most importantly.
The Cii Ambulance Drive is a worthy cause and needs our support.
Come join us. You won’t regret it.
Email me email@example.com to book your ticket.
The flat in Morningside was much, much better than the Sparks Road flat.
It actually had a proper kitchen.
And we had a bit of a garden!
And I was happy to see my stuff from my Houghton house was transported there.
I had all my pots and pans.
Also, the furniture was nice. Not amazing, but okay.
The only problem we had was that my car was still in Jo’burg. And with my hubby sorting his life out, it leaves me alone in a flat where I don’t know anyone.
Also, I needed to buy groceries.
Like proper groceries.
But my husband was so focused on his studies.
It was seriously frustrating.
And even though I used to go to Durban quite often, I didn’t know my way around.
I spent two weeks in doors.
Do you know what that does to your soul?
I couldn’t even cook properly.
It is so frustrating.
Oh, and I didn’t even have a punchaat line connected so I could call my mother!
How do other girls do it?
Spend the whole day sitting in a tiny flat?
I felt ike I have no window to the world.
I didn’t know what’s going on the news, what are the latest trends or what’s on sale!
My only human contact was my husband in the evening!
He kept saying I must go and make friends with the neighbours but I am not like that.
It takes me a long time to make friends.
And I can’t just show up at their houses empty handed and make conversation.
I know there was a few Muslims living in the building because of the 786 number plates.
But I didn’t know any more.
They don’t prepare you for this part of marriage.
I feel like I have been thrown into a jungle called the real world.
And I don’t know who I am or what I want out of my life.
I mean yes, I enjoy cooking and baking.
But now its just the two of us.
And, I don’t have all the stuff I had when I was staying with my mother in law.
I love my husband with all my heart but I feel like I am just an addition to him.
He has all these plans and goals. I don’t have anything like that.
I thought I would get married and have kids.
I got married and I will have kids.
But what else?
And because I have nothing to do and nothing to claim as my own, I am fighting more and more with my hubby.
Every night we have some argument.
Then one afternoon, just after Zuhr, Suhail comes home and tells me to get ready.
“Where are we going?”
“We are going to get groceries. Then we going to get you into campus.”
“Get ready hun.”
I gave in.
Suhail took me to Musgrave centre to do grocery shopping.
I went a little crazy filling the trolley but he had to remind me that we are once again on a student budget.
Also, I didn’t have my in laws to rely on.
I gritted my teeth but then took it easy.
Its a small sacrifice.
Once we were done, we went to UKZN.
It is actually a nice campus.
A bit like UJ but it seemed the people were a little friendlier.
Also the “ekse’s” and “eish man’s” were a lot more.
Some Durban people have crazy accents.
It used to make me cringe. Now I just laugh at it.
We went to the humanities department and tried to negotiate my way in.
I was so desperate to do something, I didn’t even care what I would be studying.
After pleading and explaining, eventually the Dean said there was a place to do a general BA degree.
Also, at first they didn’t want to consider the one year I did at UJ in teach but then after much pleading, they agreed.
So I just needed to pay my deposit and I was officially a second year student at Howard Campus.
I knew no one on the campus besides my husband.
It reminded me of my first day at UJ.
Remember how I only knew Moe. And actually on my first day there, I met Suhail.
When I met that shy boy in a white kurta, I had no idea he would be my husband.
So much has happened since that day I met him, the day we got married and now.
The drama was immense.
Oh gosh. You would never understand what I had to go through.
Its a lesson though. They way you think your life will turn out and how it actually turns out is worlds apart.
I mean… who would have thought I would marry Suhail and end up in Durban of all places?!
PS: Time is running out. Seriously. Email firstname.lastname@example.org
I was horrified when we eventually got to Durban.
I plain. Bare. Tiny flat in Overport.
This is what I now have to call home.
There was absolutely nothing there.
Okay, fine there was basic furniture. But the operative word is “basic”.
I couldn’t deal.
And my husband didn’t even feel perturbed at all.
He was fine with it!
I left Houghton for this place.
And there were gangster-ish looking people in the driveway.
I am not even kidding you.
The entire size of the flat was the size of our study in Houghton.
Oh, and don’t let me get started on the kitchen.
I was so cross.
But more cross at the fact that my hubby didn’t tell me anything.
He doesn’t discuss important things with me!
And when we arrived, he didn’t even help me unpack our clothes.
He already dashed off to sort out his campus stuff.
What must I do the whole day sitting in a match-box of a flat?
I didn’t tell him anything because he should have known.
How can he expect me to live like this.
And there wasn’t even a big enough window for me to stare outside all day.
This was a real test!
I was so frustrated I just laid in bed all day.
When my husband got home from his gallivanting I ignored him completely!
“So… I am starting classes next week,” he said.
“You are not excited?”
“So I don’t have to spend that much of time on campus… but the thesis would be hard work.”
“What did you do today?”
“Nothing… exactly what I am going to be doing every day when you on campus.”
“Nobody said you can’t do anything.”
“Yes but you just concerned about your plans and future!’
“Its not true…”
“Did you cook?”
Then I snapped.
“How can you just expect me to cook? We have nothing cook! And look at this kitchen! It is just terrible. You just do your own thing and expect me to cook! Its madness!”
He just kept quiet and walked away.
I heard him calling to order food.
I was angry. And I think I had a right to be.
I mean he can’t just come and demand things from me.
Later on he came to the room and gently called me to come and eat.
I was tempted to say I was not hungry but gave in.
When I entered our tiny dinning room/ lounge I was surprised to see my hubby going out of his way to have romantic supper.
I smiled shyly.
Gosh! It is hard to stay mad at this man.
He bought a bouquet of flowers which he left on the table next to my food.
He also gave me a key.
“Our proper flat is still being renovated in Morningside. This is my cousin’s flat which he rents out. I was going to surprise you when it was done.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise dummy!”
“When can we see it?”
“Thank you Suhail! I am so excited!”
Author’s note: Tickets are going hot and fast for our special, special high tea fundraiser in collaboration with Lifestyle on Cii and Cii Projects.
Remember all proceeds are going to the Gaza ambulance drive.
We have awesome prizes for lucky guests. Think recipe books, macarons and amazing spa giveaway.
If you haven’t secured your seat please email me: email@example.com.
Peace and kindness.
Packing. It is definitely not for the faint hearted.
But reapplying to a brand new university is worse!
My hubby is going to UKZN to do his masters in engineering. He is accepted and ready to go.
I need to make up my mind.
Should I continue with teaching?
But the only teaching campus is Edgewood, which I heard was really dodgy.
Maybe I must study Psych and if I decide to do teaching afterwards then I could always swap over.
But Psych is tough.
Finally I applied for a general Bachelor of Arts degree, just so that I could study something and be on the same campus with my hubby.
I can’t deal with making a whole lot of new friends.
And being introverted doesn’t help.
My parents were not keen about my hubby going back to campus but eventually they got around it.
I am just happy to move away from my in laws.
There has been a ceasefire between me and and my mother in law but there is still tension.
After 25 years she is now a ‘stay at home mum’ and her kid doesn’t really need her.
I never want to be like that though. Being so emotionally vested in a job. I guess that’s all she had.
The sad reality is that she is trying to catch up lost time with her son- and its too late.
But emo garbage aside, there is stuff to pack.
At least we don’t have to pack up much of our house stuff because my hubby’s family recently bought a flat in Durban.
Our family flat is in on the beach front, but apparently the Durban beach is actually getting really dangerous.
I asked my hubby where their flat is and he said its on Sparks road.
I almost had a heart attack!
Have you seen what Sparks Road in Overport looks like?
It is like Fordsburg but on steroids.
Actually it is like a modernised Indian gaam.
It is so busy and apparently drugs is a real thing!
I mean I have nothing against people living in Overport, but seriously. Overport!
Moving from Houghton to Overport. No.
I started dreading the move.
“Maybe I must ask my father if we can stay at our beach flat?” I asked my hubby.
“No. We got a bachelor flat on Sparks Road. It will be fine.”
A bachelor flat???
Where am I going to put my clothes?
And I need all my clothes. And make-up. And scarves. And jewellery.
Where is it going to fit?
I started panicking now.
“You really want to go to Durban?”
“It’s a bit late now. We moving in three days!”
“Ya, but I didn’t even see the place.”
“What’s there to see. It is just for two years.”
“I know… but.”
My hubby kinda ignored me and continued the packing.
We taking all my clothes, his clothes, a few linen stuff and other valuables.
I was optimistic at first but now I am just frustrated.
Men and just so selfish.
He didn’t even both to consult me before applying in Durban.
And I don’t have any news of my acceptance.
So what must I do all day?
Sit and count the cars that drive past on Sparks road?
Ladies! I am excited. Seriously excited.
Here is the load down on the Diary of a Guji Girl fund-raiser with Cii projects on August 27 at Shepstone Gardens.
Lifestyle with Safeera Kaka has jumped on board and they will be hosting the programme LIVE. Basically, guests would be part of a live audience.
The programme, as it looks thus far, is mind blowing!
Also, we have incredible news.
I love Cake by Mehnaaz has kindly offered an array of her amazing eats.
And, and, C’est mon Macaron has joined in offering our special guests a choice of their incredible macarons.
That’s not all. Seriously. We have spa vouchers from Seven Seas Spa too!
I am incredibly excited. And that is not the half of it.
Book your ticket at R280 per person by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org
Remember, all proceeds will go towards humanitarian work in Palestine!
Eid this year was different.
My first Eid being married.
And the first Eid which I spent mostly on the road.
After a huge fall out with my mother in law, we came to a compromise.
It wasn’t easy though.
She was under pressure and she took it out on me.
Can you believe she said I must not go back just because I had to be home with my mother.
We fought a lot but I managed to keep my hubby out of it.
After massive fights, I realized that she was stressed out and just using me as her scapegoat.
So, I called my husband and said I will spend breakfast at my mother, then get the driver to bring me to Jo’burg on Eid day to spend the rest of Eid with his family.
I had to be home to help prepare.
Even though my Foi was around, she would not lift a hand.
And Eid is always at our house.
So I had to prepare everything from scratch while my mother was still recovering.
For the first time in my life I had to make biryani also.
It took me three whole days to prepare everything.
The night before Eid, an hour or so after it was announced that Eid would be on Monday, I finished the last batch of biscuits.
As soon as I packed it in a Tupperware, the door bell rang.
I went to open it, drenched in floor and batter, only to find my husband standing there grinning like a naughty boy!
What a great surprise?!
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to surprise you!”
“Well, it is a great surprise. Come inside!”
“We can’t spend our first Eid morning apart… So we will have Eid breakfast and lunch here and then we will go home for supper.”
“I missed you so much.”
My husband is sometimes deeply affectionate and I still can’t get used to it.
I honestly thought this would be the worst Eid ever- considering my mother in law’s mood swings.
My hubby helped me set the breakfast table and do last minutes gift wrapping.
I loved how involved he gets… not many guys help out at all.
Even if it is just setting an ordinary lunch table for me and him, he will help out.
Once everything was sorted out, we got ready for bed.
Eid morning’s start early and we needed to have a good night’s sleep.
“Babe, why didn’t you tell me what happened with my mother?” he asked.
“Uhmm… I didn’t want to complain to you and I know I would have.”
“What did your mother tell you?”
“No, she said I must apologise on her behalf. She told me she gave you a hard time. But its because they making her redundant at work. You know how my mother loves work… even though she doesn’t need to work. She feels as if she’s losing a part of her. So she has been really moody and aggressive.”
“I thought it was something else. That is why I let it go mostly.”
I smiled again.
Initially I wasn’t so forgiving but now I was grateful that I let it go.
It is important to think before reacting.
In retrospect, if I didn’t let it go it would have probably costed me my marriage.
Anyways, Eid day was another drama and a half.
I set a beautiful table for breakfast, and laid out another table with the millions of sweet things I made.
Everything looked lovely- even if I must say so myself.
That was until my foi came and threw a massive tantrum.
Apparently we were “oppressing a widow”.
“You Amina. It is all your fault. You couldn’t even invite my Maseeha for Eid. Now she has to spend it with her in laws. I know you don’t want her here. But this is also my brother’s house. How can you be so cruel to an orphan?!”
She was crying and screaming on top of her voice.
What the… I didn’t need to invite Maseeha. She should have just came.
We don’t invite anyone for Eid. Everyone knows they must just come.
“You are just jealous of her. You always was! She can’t help if she’s prettier than you. You probably made Jadoo on her.”
I lost my cool!
“Foi! I didn’t invite your precious daughter because we didn’t invite anyone at all. You know everyone can just come. And I am not jealous of her! How dare you say this?! My mother is so sick and you must come and throw a tantrum here!”
“Just watch! I am going to tell your father how rude you are.”
I was so angry.
I did nothing wrong.
Thankfully my father took my side and ignored my Foi.
But then she went to her granny flat behind our house and sulked for the rest of Eid.
It is funny how people can so easily throw around accusations of jealousy.
I am actually happy for my cousin. She really has life easy and its a good thing.
I don’t want what she has.
Anyways, besides that, Eid morning went lovely.
My cousin Ayesha from Cape Town was around with her husband.
And she’s pregnant so its really cute.
Now everyone is giving me side eyes about when I am going to have a baby.
Before you get married everyone asks you when you getting married, then everyone asks when you getting a baby then they ask when you getting the next.
Its like they expect you to skype the angels everyday to ask what’s predestined for your.
I can make a double thick Belgian chocolate cake but please don’t ask me to predict my own taqdeer.
I was so disappointed with my Biryani though for Eid lunch.
Everyone ate it quietly but I could read through the silent remarks.
It tasted lovely- it just swam in oil.
I doubled the oil content unwittingly.
“Do you want to kill us off with cholesterol,” my father joked.
“It isn’t bad for a first try,” my hubby said to my defence.
He had to. Or else!
After lunch we left Newcastle for Jo’burg.
It was refreshing to have spent the morning with my family- regardless of how nuts some of them are.
As we drove back on the long, winding road- my husband suddenly started talking about our future.
“Do you want kids soon?” he asked me.
“I don’t know…”
“I am thinking of going back to campus to do my masters…”
“But… who will look after us?”
“My parents said it is okay… Do you also want to go back to finish your degree?”
“Wow… I don’t know. It will be nice.”
“We are young… we have time. Why don’t we just do it…”
“Where are we going to do it?”
“I got accepted to study in Durban… We can apply for you there too…”
A new beginning. Hmm, it doesn’t sound so bad.
I hope everyone is well. I have noted the frustration about the tardiness of posts and it has become unfortunate that some people have subjected me to disparaging and abusive comments. The blog was on a very long break as I tried to rebuild all lost data and content as a result of my terrible incident. I have gathered all my ideas and have great content coming up under Guji Girl takes on Durban. It is going to be a laugh! But first, I invite you to join me for an all exclusive high tea, where we get to socialise, learn and give back. Let us unite and rejuvenate our spirit of activism. Palestine needs our help.
Diary of a Guji Girl in collaboration with Cii Projects brings you a morning of purpose and perspective.
Join us for a rejuvenating and exclusive high tea of good conversation, intriguing discussions and mind blowing presentations- all in support of Palestine.
When? Wednesday August 27
Where? Shepstone Gardens, Shepstone Gardens 8 Hope Rd, Mountain View, JHB
Time? 10:00- 12:30
Cost? R280 per person
For more information and to book your seat email email@example.com or call 0823739545 *Limited tickets available, ladies only.
Ramadaan was so much of drama!
First everything was fine. My days would go in cooking and more cooking.
Then suddenly my mother slips and falls in her kitchen.
At first we didn’t think it was really serious. Until she had sharp pain in her back.
You know how mothers are, she refused to go and get it checked out until the pain was so unbearable.
Finally when she went to the doctor she found out that she had fractured her spine and could be paralysed forever.
The terror that went through me when I heard the news was something else.
My mother was never ever sick.
This was the first time I had to deal with her not being there for us let alone been in ICU!
I had to go home!
I asked my hubby who was fine with it but my mother in law was the problem!
Since I got married I never had any serious problem with my inlaws but this was just something else.
She refused to let me go home.
My mil insisted that it was Ramadaan and she needed me to cook.
Like I was the slave of the house.
Even though she had a khala to help her in the kitchen.
“How’s it going to help if you go home?” she asked me so rudely.
I was so cross!
How insensitive can she be?
And I really didn’t want to create a wedge between my hubby and his mother so left it.
I made a stupid excuse when I called my father.
Three days passed and my husband didn’t even offer to take me home.
Then we got the news that my mother will have to go for a risky surgery.
“Ma, I have to go home. My mother has to go for a risky surgery and I have to be there.”
“So who’s going to prepare for Eid? You know I have to work!”
“But it is a risky operating. I have to be there for my family.”
“My son can’t take off work just to take you home!”
“Jee. That is why I called my father to come and fetch me.”
“Allahhh! Why would you do that? Now your parents think that we treating you so badly when we treat you like a queen. When I first got married I was never allowed to just go home even though my mother was 45 minutes away. Ay just go!”
This women can never be pleased.
How can she be so insensitive not to let me go home when my mother is so ill.
When my foi has a little flu her precious Maseeha runs home.
I am the only unlucky one to have a mother in law from hell.
The thing is, I had no idea that she had this evil streak!
When I got married she was fairly kind to me.
I never had to worry about a hovering mother in law because she was always working.
I have no idea why she was so mean to me!
Anyways, I finally went home.
It was so shocking to see my mother in hospital completely unable to do anything for herself.
She even had to be fed with tubes.
The day after I arrived, the doctors operated.
We were all so worried because if they had to touch a nerve she would not be able to be functional after the operation.
To make matters worse, my father was so grumpy!
You know they say a hungry man is an angry man and they are not lying!
With it being Ramadaan, he was constantly angry and always in a foul mood.
Maybe it was his way with the thought of losing my mother but I could not deal. Also, I really missed my hubby!
Finally only after three full days the doctors told us that the operation was successful but the recovery period would be six months!
My entire family depended on my mother! I don’t think my father would manage six whole months.
Also, she would still be in hospital for Eid.
I had to stay in Newcastle until after Eid at least.
But my mother in law was furious.
“You should have told me earlier! Now we invited all these people for Eid!’
“Seriously? How was I supposed to know in advance that my mother would have to go a serious operation?!”
“Don’t be rude! You know what? Don’t bother coming back!”
QUESTION: How would you advise Amina to deal with her mother in law?
You know they say that the company you keep has a bearing on you.
I never truly believed it until this Ramadaan.
For the first ten days- the days of mercy- I was running around like a headless chicken focussing all my energy on cooking the fanciest of things.
This is what my neighbours and new married friends do.
But after all that drama before I got married I promised myself not to become like this.
Its so easy to get carried away into the hub of making the best dessert or dressing the best.
And the thing is, I really didn’t realise it that I was focusing so much on stupid material things, my own husband grew tired of me.
It only hit home one day when I went to visit my cousin, my foi’s daughter who is married in Killarney.
I never really got along with her but now that we both married I try my best to keep in contact.
Also, she doesn’t know many people.
And I have forgiven her for what she did to me before I got married.
What’s gone is gone.
Anyways, she invited me and my hubby for iftaar.
So I made a middle east platter to take with.
Pita and falafel and hummus. The works.
And the only reason I went out of my way was because I know how she is.
She pulls her nose at everything- just like my foi.
I also made mini individual death by chocolate dessert.
So we rock up there and the first thing she tells me is how dark I have become.
“Ay but you becoming just like Ayesha… dark dark.”
Well hello to you too.
“How you Mas?”
“I am okay… carrying on. Ay but you gone really fat. You must start gyming.”
“So hows things?”
“Okay… I told you not to bring anything. I made so much.”
She did tell me not to bring anything but if I hadn’t taken anything the whole of Newcastle would have heard.
I was shocked at the table.
There was easily 8 types of savouries, steak, butter chicken, sticky chops, 2 types of veggies and a ton of types of breads.
And there was only 4 of us.
What a waste!
Plus she made three types of milkshake and Ramadaan milk.
Even her date platter was excessive.
It was some serious wastage.
What really made me angry was that she didn’t even put my platter on the table.
She gave it straight to the maid right in front of me.
Some people have no shame!
And most of the food was left over.
“Will you eat the left overs?” I asked her.
“Never… I don’t eat left overs. I give it to the naddi or just throw it away. What must do…”
I turned to look at my hubby who seemed furious.
I know how much he hates wastage.
“Give it to us we will give it away,” he said to her.
But this girl doesn’t learn from it.
She takes me in the corners and sneakily asks if we are “having it tough”.
“You must just say if you want the left overs… I know your hubby is still trying to make it. My husband is a doctor shukr Alhamdulilah… so we can afford things you know.”
I had enough and so we left right away.
My hubz was so peeved off.
And thats when I realised that I can’t continue the way I was.
I mean it is almost halfway through Ramadaan and I am only on the fifth para.
I have no time to read Quraan because I spend the whole day in the kitchen.
And you know I heard what’s happening in Gaza on Channel Islam.
Its so sad.
Imagine whole families being killed
I don’t really understand what’s going on in Palestine but I mean they don’t have half the luxuries we throw away.
Small small children and being orphaned.
Its really sad.
I mean we are complaining because City Power switched off our lights for an hour.
We complain to read Taraweeh because its so cold.
Imagine the people of Gaza… they reading Taraweeh in rubble.
Today my hubby’s friend from work invited us over to his place in Brynston for Iftaar.
It is not that far but with traffic in Jo’burg its going to be a mission.
Anyways, I called my hubby at work to ask what I should make to take with.
“Anything is hard to make. Tell me something specific. ”
“I don’t know… make a dessert or something. But don’t stress. They are chilled. ”
“Okay I will make that chocolate dessert I made the other day then?”
“Jee. That’s fine.”
“Okay… let me leave you… what time will you pick me up?”
“Around 4:30. Also, please make sure the maid ironed my kurta…”
“I did that already… okay see you later.”
I still am not used to this. To have my hubby openly say he loves me.
Its very cute.
And even after all these months.
Okay its only been three months.
After everything I went through it is so nice to finally be with someone who loves and appreciates me.
Obviously we have our days when we annoy each other- that’s normal.
So anyways I make mini desserts to take with and decorated it fancy.
I don’t know the people so I don’t know what they used to.
Imagine if they used to fancy double thick peppermint dessert and I rock up there with jelly.
Although I saw recipes for fancy jelly which I am dying to try out.
My hubby comes a little early to fetch me and I am still putting the final touches to my tray.
“I told you not to worry.”
“We can’t show up empty handed.”
“Okay… okay. Whatever makes you happy Amina.”
I ask my hubby to put the tray in the car while I fix my hijaab.
First impressions. Enough said.
Also I need to start making friends.
I was so upset when Mariam moved to Durban.
They have a kid now and they say Durban is a better place to bring up children.
Also, Riza got a really good job there.
Its weird that they all done with campus and are now working.
Also its sad that I can’t visit them like I used to when I was on campus.
Oh campus days!
They seem so far behind!
A million things has happened since.
Actually it is like a blurry shadow of a memory.
Anyways we rock up at my hubby’s friends house only to realize that they are so simple people.
They only had samoosas and badjias on the table!
And the thing is, they not even poor.
I was so shocked.
Imagine- there was no milkshake to break my fast.
And I am even okay with that ordinary pink ramadaan milkshake.
But there wasn’t even that.
Just dates, water, samoosas, badjias and chicken curry.
I knew I should have listened to my gut and made savouries.
There were three couples all together and they set for the females separately.
I didn’t know any of the wives there but they were very nice and sweet.
Once we ate and prayed we had to hurry back in time for Taraweeh prayers.
The thing about Ramadaan is the says are really short.
And there is no chilling really.
I guess that is the big sacrifice.
As we drive back home, I let my hubby have it aboout stopping me from taking more things with.
“Shame did you see how they eat?”
“Are you still hungry?”
“What you mean? No I am not hungry.”
“What you mean. I could have made pies and cutlets at least. How can you break your fast with only two savouries.”
“Very nicely Amz. We just did and we are fine.”
“But these people are not poor why are they acting poor?”
“It is not acting poor. It is been simple. There is no need really for a million savouries even if you can afford it. I wanted to actually show you a lesson. You really have to stop going to town with the luxuries everyday.”
“If you can’t afford it its fine… I have the money my father gives me.”
“Its not about the money! It is about the simplicity. Eating a ten course meal defeats the purpose of staying away from food. Hun, I just think we must try and cut down. Not because we can’t afford it- because we can… But how can we eat a million things when people are starving in most parts of the world? Its fine to enjoy a good meal. But I think we are getting a bit excessive.”
It is the fourth of Ramdaan and I haven’t yet started my Quraan.
I mean I am not so pious to read like 10 Quraans in the month, but I try to finish one at least.
But being married is really hectic. Like I said most of the day goes in the kitchen and the other time goes in shopping.
I spend almost three hours in the shops- Ssh, don’t tell me hubby.
But seriously there is a lot to buy.
I mean I buy all the groceries because my mother in law hates the shops.
Also, I volunteered.
But that’s only because only I know what we need.
Especially for my desserts- sometimes I need pickled pears sometimes I need Belgian dark chocolate. I mean there is a huge difference between ordinary dark chocolate and Belgian dark chocolate.
Also, it must be superior quality. That’s what they tell you on Master Chef right?
Thankfully, I can use my hubby’s credit card so I don’t have to keep asking him for money.
Shame, my in laws give me everything I need and want. I have it easy, I guess.
So anyway, today I was in the Norwood Spa right, and I bumped in to Sarah the loud mouth doctor that stays two doors away from us.
She is so health conscience its patronizing.
She looked into my trolley and I had two litres of fresh cream, three huge slabs plus two tubs of ice cream.
The way she pulled her nose.
“Is that all for you?”
“It is for my extended family too.”
“You must try to cook without cream. You will clog up your arteries.”
“Jee.” I just roll my eyes. But she was not nearly done.
“You know Ramadaan is not about eating. It is actually about not eating and abstaining. You must eat normally at Sehri and Iftaar.”
“Its Ramdaan, we need strength for the day.”
“Well I can tell you all that junk food in your trolley will only make you more lethargic.”
“JazakAllah for that, but I must go.”
“Before you go, let me give you my friend’s number. She is a personal trainer at the gym down the road.”
Was she just saying I am fat?
Ag, stupid women.
Imagine a Ramadaan without dessert? It must be really sad.
And yes, I am picking up some weight but my hubby is not complaining so who is she anyways?!
Once I was done with groceries, I needed to buy fresh flowers for the tables and also get me some new scarves.
I know I bought a lot in my trousseau but scarves go out of fashion so quick. It is unreal.
There is always something prettier and better.
And because a lot more people wear scarves in Ramadaan, many people pay attention to other people’s scarves.
You know what’s also really funny?
There has been a burst of Ramadaan Muslims in Jo’burg malls.
You see them everywhere.
Yes, there is a lot of Muslims that live in Houghton but you don’t see them often.
Now scarves and beards have taken over.
Well, it is not a bad thing I guess.
Rather put a scarf on your head for a month than not at all.
But you know, I get embarrassed, some of my cousin in laws are something else.
They don’t wear scarf even in Ramadaan or even when they eat.
The one is a CA or something and she wore a short skirt the other day. In Ramadaan. Clearly her shaitaan was not locked uup.
They don’t even try to make it to the Iftaar table in time.
They rock up at Taraweeh time and expect food.
I mean how can you break your fast on the road or at work.
And they make excuses all the time. One day its the traffic, one day its a meeting.
Ay, I tell you!