Marriage One: A Shwayyah Story...
In 2000, Shwayyah got married for the first time, to a young brother from Egypt named Mohammed.
The backdrop of this event saw me and her mother Asiyah going thru a brief separation, one that extended to my relationship with Shwayyah as well. In the meantime, Mohammed approached some of the brothers in my mosque, inquiring about marriage to any available sisters - they brought up Shway for consideration and one of the brothers in a leadership role, Mikal, stepped into the role as her wali (representative), a role that was mine traditionally but for my absence...
Asiyah and I reconciled as Shway's marriage entered its final stages of confirmation - the signing of the marriage contract. It was a poignant time because one of the things that drove our separation was us battling over my role as head of household and as a father and stepfather. My marriage to Asiyah was my first, but her third, and it came after a long period where she was a single divorcée of 4 kids and, I felt, used to treating men, especially the fathers of her kids, as cursory. I, however, wasn't that dude, nor was I going to be treated that way. So, we clashed. Often. Hard.
This latest clash drove her to leave and crash at a sister's house, taking our daughter with her. I was non-plussed except for the issue of spending time with my kid. Asiyah wanted to negotiate - I didn't, because my child is not a pawn to be used as such. So, I went and got my daughter. Kicked in a window that wasn't mine, and got my daughter. So focused on such, I forgot I was on parole (from doing time since '89) - and I ended up in jail fighting a violation - hence, the "separation".
Now, fast-forward to the "signing"...
Shway and I had a brief convo that day, she wanted me to "take over" as her wali. I told her I would co-sign with Mikal but that anything popping off afterward would find me in that role going forward.
The signing or nikah, took place at an apartment clubhouse. There I spoke briefly with Mikal, inquiring about Mohammed, who I didn't know anything about. Mikal mentioned he was Muslim but "not a religious one". This was a red flag for me. First, because I don't know what the hell a non-religious Muslim is - since, being a Muslim is a matter of religion in and of itself. Second, if anything, Shway was certainly "religious" - she prayed regularly, attended the masjid and community events, etc. Having a husband that didn't do these things was not going to work.
In matters of marriage, Islam holds that the most important thing to ensure a good marriage is compatibility - of course, the factors that determine compatibility can differ, but at the top of the list are matters of religion and practice.
The reality of my separation, etc, made me bite down on some very fiery frustration. I felt that Mikal was being a psuedo-wali, not taking my kid's interests truly to heart, or else he would not have dreamed of setting Shway up with some buster. But then, I was just coming back into the picture, a picture I was still gluing back together in the first place.
This was in the back of mind as I signed my name on the marriage contract. Just afterward, we gathered to pray salatul-asr, the late afternoon prayer. Right away, I noticed Mohammed was not joining the ranks. When the prayer finished, as I sat issuing my own personal supplication, I glanced sideways out of the clubhouse window: there was Mohammed, standing with a couple brothers, chatting and smoking a cigarette. I got up and pulled Asiyah to the side and expressed my displeasure, telling her but for the fact that the agreement was signed, I was gonna pack her and her daughter up and bounce right then and there.
Fast-forward again, about a month.
Things, unsurprisingly, weren't going so good with Shway and Mohammed. Some of it was the inevitable culture clash of Arab and African American experiences, but most of it was dude was a young idiot, incapable of managing those clashes, on top of the fact that he was a non-practicing Muslim married to one who wasn't.
The hammer dropped one day when she called me - Mohammed had yelled at and berated her after she asked him to take her to the mosque for prayer, suggesting he should pray there too. He rebuked her for acting like she was better than him, that he was born a Muslim and an Arab to boot, that "you don't know shit; your family doesn't know shit".
Silly boy.
I told Shway to give me back the dowry he'd given her: a ring and some cash. She spent the cash but forked over the ring; and I went to the safe for the dough. Then, I called Mohammed. It was a brief conversation:
Him: "talaq, akhi, talaq"
Me: "Shukran, watch your mailbox, ma'salaama (thanks... go in peace)"...
A trip to the mailbox, and that was that.
Later, I gave a general speech to some of the brothers after a Friday prayer - telling them to not volleyball my kid's name in their "who's available?" talks about marriage without consulting me first, not to even think about considering some buster as marriage material for my kid, and not to consider anyone they themselves wouldn't marry to their own daughter (if they had one).
It took a minute to find Shway a suitable brother to marry, but eventually it happened - not before having to slap down more than a few cornball prospects - but in the end I was the one making the decisions with her, and I never having let anything or anyone (me included) from fulfilling the role that was mine anyways.
Her next marriage? Another story - and a good one. That'll be in my book, Black Dad, which I am presently writing...
The backdrop of this event saw me and her mother Asiyah going thru a brief separation, one that extended to my relationship with Shwayyah as well. In the meantime, Mohammed approached some of the brothers in my mosque, inquiring about marriage to any available sisters - they brought up Shway for consideration and one of the brothers in a leadership role, Mikal, stepped into the role as her wali (representative), a role that was mine traditionally but for my absence...
Asiyah and I reconciled as Shway's marriage entered its final stages of confirmation - the signing of the marriage contract. It was a poignant time because one of the things that drove our separation was us battling over my role as head of household and as a father and stepfather. My marriage to Asiyah was my first, but her third, and it came after a long period where she was a single divorcée of 4 kids and, I felt, used to treating men, especially the fathers of her kids, as cursory. I, however, wasn't that dude, nor was I going to be treated that way. So, we clashed. Often. Hard.
This latest clash drove her to leave and crash at a sister's house, taking our daughter with her. I was non-plussed except for the issue of spending time with my kid. Asiyah wanted to negotiate - I didn't, because my child is not a pawn to be used as such. So, I went and got my daughter. Kicked in a window that wasn't mine, and got my daughter. So focused on such, I forgot I was on parole (from doing time since '89) - and I ended up in jail fighting a violation - hence, the "separation".
Now, fast-forward to the "signing"...
Shway and I had a brief convo that day, she wanted me to "take over" as her wali. I told her I would co-sign with Mikal but that anything popping off afterward would find me in that role going forward.
The signing or nikah, took place at an apartment clubhouse. There I spoke briefly with Mikal, inquiring about Mohammed, who I didn't know anything about. Mikal mentioned he was Muslim but "not a religious one". This was a red flag for me. First, because I don't know what the hell a non-religious Muslim is - since, being a Muslim is a matter of religion in and of itself. Second, if anything, Shway was certainly "religious" - she prayed regularly, attended the masjid and community events, etc. Having a husband that didn't do these things was not going to work.
In matters of marriage, Islam holds that the most important thing to ensure a good marriage is compatibility - of course, the factors that determine compatibility can differ, but at the top of the list are matters of religion and practice.
The reality of my separation, etc, made me bite down on some very fiery frustration. I felt that Mikal was being a psuedo-wali, not taking my kid's interests truly to heart, or else he would not have dreamed of setting Shway up with some buster. But then, I was just coming back into the picture, a picture I was still gluing back together in the first place.
This was in the back of mind as I signed my name on the marriage contract. Just afterward, we gathered to pray salatul-asr, the late afternoon prayer. Right away, I noticed Mohammed was not joining the ranks. When the prayer finished, as I sat issuing my own personal supplication, I glanced sideways out of the clubhouse window: there was Mohammed, standing with a couple brothers, chatting and smoking a cigarette. I got up and pulled Asiyah to the side and expressed my displeasure, telling her but for the fact that the agreement was signed, I was gonna pack her and her daughter up and bounce right then and there.
Fast-forward again, about a month.
Things, unsurprisingly, weren't going so good with Shway and Mohammed. Some of it was the inevitable culture clash of Arab and African American experiences, but most of it was dude was a young idiot, incapable of managing those clashes, on top of the fact that he was a non-practicing Muslim married to one who wasn't.
The hammer dropped one day when she called me - Mohammed had yelled at and berated her after she asked him to take her to the mosque for prayer, suggesting he should pray there too. He rebuked her for acting like she was better than him, that he was born a Muslim and an Arab to boot, that "you don't know shit; your family doesn't know shit".
Silly boy.
I told Shway to give me back the dowry he'd given her: a ring and some cash. She spent the cash but forked over the ring; and I went to the safe for the dough. Then, I called Mohammed. It was a brief conversation:
Me: As salaamu alaikum, akh (bro), this is going to be real brief and I only require a one-word reply, which you will know when I am done talking...
Bottom line I have the mahr (dowry) you gave Shwayyah, both the ring and money, in my hand. I am telling you - not asking - to divorce Shway. I was going to give the mahr to you in your hand but I honestly would also slap the shit out of you, so instead I am going to mail it as soon as I hang up...so, please, for the sake of Allah and for your health, give me the word...
Him: "talaq, akhi, talaq"
Me: "Shukran, watch your mailbox, ma'salaama (thanks... go in peace)"...
A trip to the mailbox, and that was that.
Later, I gave a general speech to some of the brothers after a Friday prayer - telling them to not volleyball my kid's name in their "who's available?" talks about marriage without consulting me first, not to even think about considering some buster as marriage material for my kid, and not to consider anyone they themselves wouldn't marry to their own daughter (if they had one).
It took a minute to find Shway a suitable brother to marry, but eventually it happened - not before having to slap down more than a few cornball prospects - but in the end I was the one making the decisions with her, and I never having let anything or anyone (me included) from fulfilling the role that was mine anyways.
Her next marriage? Another story - and a good one. That'll be in my book, Black Dad, which I am presently writing...
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