I heard a dreadful story the other day. It left me feeling physically sick and abused. A relatively well known 38-year-old-South-African-English-speaking-Indian “Mufti” married a 17 year-old-Jordanian-Arabic-speaking-girl, Mariam, a few months ago. Mufti brought his new bride to live with him, his sister and his parents on a little farm just outside Johannesburg. Not long into the marriage, Mufti sought counsel with one of the elders, complaining that his new wife would not sleep with him and that she was disrespectful to his family. On these terms, Mufti decided to pack her bags and send her back to her family; who were incidentally visiting South Africa at the time and staying with friends.
The elders then enquired into the matter and with the help of an interpreter, sought counsel with Mariam, who was clearly traumatised. From Mariam’s side of the story, deplorable information came to light. According to Mariam, Mufti refused to engage in any discourse with her. He refused to get to know her, refused to speak to her and only ever wanted to sleep with her in the late hours of the evening to satisfy his animalistic urges. And instead of fostering a relationship with his wife, Mufti spent hours in his sister’s quarters, sometimes only emerging after 10pm. It was then that Mariam withdrew from any physical intimacy.
Life became increasingly difficult for Mariam because she could not converse with anyone, no one in the household understood Arabic, except Mufti, and she could not speak any English. To make matters worse, her mother-in-law took this opportunity to exploit Mariam’s presence in the household. To make a long story short, Mariam became a slave. She was instructed to clean the house two to three times a day by her mother-in-law and had to acquiesce to all kinds of requests from her sister-in-law. She obeyed, silently.
One afternoon, Mariam was done with her chores and after her bath, decided to wear a pair of jeans, only to be met with the look of horror and dismay on the faces of her in-laws. Her mother-in-law immediately reprimanded her, telling her that if Mufti found out, he would kill her. So, not wanting to meet the disapproval of her husband, Mariam changed her clothes and donned an ankle length skirt instead. But when Mufti arrived home later that evening, he scolded his wife for her attire i.e. referring to the skirt. When he found out about the jeans, he went ballistic and shredded them with a pair of scissors. Despite all of this, at the end of it all, she still did not want to leave her husband, even when he forced her out of their home.
Even though Mufti refused to converse with Mariam, apparently he had no qualms about conversing with his friends and other acquaintances over the nature of his relationship with his wife. He told one of them that his wedding night was “nice” and even boasted about the fact that Mariam was, and I quote “so tight and in so much pain”.
The elders shook their heads, shocked and appalled by what they had heard. And judging from Mufti’s checkered past, his tendency to be a PATHOLOGICAL LIAR as well as the Indian culture of “mother-in-law-from-hell”, it had appeared that Mariam was telling the truth.
Now I ask you, the public, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? Are these the kinds of men we have in our society? What kind of man divulges such crude and personal information to relative strangers? What kind of SWINE takes pleasure in his wife’s pain and misery and boasts about it too? And a supposedly educated man at that?
Stories like these are so common in our society, it makes me SICK to my core. These people are supposed to be educated in the Deen (religion). They pride themselves on their knowledge of Islam and are even arrogant about it. But I have to say that all their religious efforts are in vain because this is NOT Islam. This is NOT the knowledge or the kind of behaviour that the Prophet SAW imparted on his journey here on earth. I was LIVID when I heard this story. I actually wish the narrator did not impart this information to me and I’m still reeling from it. I can’t even begin to describe how it has disturbed me.
Mufti is the kind of guy that should be gang raped by a bunch of male ex-cons until his very own existence repulses him. If I had a couple of million lying around in my bank account I would have even made it happen and then hand him the gun afterwards so that he can finish the job himself. He's the kind of guy I would bludgeon to death with the axe I keep in the kitchen next to the refrigerator. And I would take my time, so that the spaces in between each blow would feel like an eternity for him…because killing the fucking animal is not enough, he has to be tortured first.
As a woman, I feel violated even though I do not know Mariam personally. I feel ashamed to be part of the world in which she had to suffer. And all I want to do is attack this fucking inbred cursed society with cruel and ruthless words, and an atomic bomb or three. But I won’t unleash any devastation or label and generalise, not today.
Instead, I will mourn for all the other Mariam’s out there. I will ask all the women who are mother’s or will become mother’s to please instill in their sons the morals and values that are right by Islamic principles and not by society's traditions and cultural standards. And I will ask all the REAL MEN to please stand up.