Before I start, I want to make one thing clear: I am not a feminist-in fact, I’m far from it. I’m a certified lover girl. I love love. I love being in love, and I love how loving someone can make you want to make their life softer, happier, and better in whatever ways you can.

But that being said, there are certain things we say and believe about marriage that have never quite sat right with me.

I strongly believe that intention matters in everything we do. In Islam, an ordinary act can become an act of worship simply because of the intention behind it. The Prophet ﷺ said:

“Actions are judged by intentions, and every person will have only what they intended.”

— Sahih al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim

And I think we need to bring this principle into the way we think about marriage and becoming wives.

Why are we doing the things we do?

As women, we are sometimes told things like, “If you take good care of your husband, cook well, keep a beautiful home, and give him everything he needs, he won’t have a reason to look elsewhere.”

And I understand where this advice comes from. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be a good wife. There is nothing wrong with learning how to cook, keep a home, care for your husband, or make your household a beautiful place to live.

What concerns me is the intention we attach to these things.

Because sometimes a woman spends years trying to become the “perfect wife” because she has been made to believe that her perfection is what will determine whether her husband remains faithful.

And then she does everything she was told to do and he still looks elsewhere.

She cooks.

She cleans.

She takes care of him.

She makes sacrifices.

She tries to be everything she thinks he could possibly want.

And when he makes a bad decision, instead of recognising that he is an adult with free will who is responsible for his own choices, she turns inward and starts asking:

Where did I go wrong?

And even if she doesn’t, the society believes it’s her fault immediately they get to know her husband cheats.

I’ve heard things like, “Mijin ta neman mata domin bata iya girki da kula da gida”—“Her husband is looking for another woman because she doesn’t know how to cook or take care of the home.”

Not, he crossed the boundaries of Allah by going close to or committing zina.

And while there may be legitimate marital problems that couples need to address, we should be careful about teaching women that they are responsible for preventing another adult from making sinful or hurtful choices.

Your goodness does not remove another person’s accountability.

Allah says:

“No bearer of burdens will bear the burden of another.”

— Qur’an 6:164

Your husband is responsible for his choices just as you are responsible for yours.

So perhaps we need to renew our intentions.

Instead of:

“I need to learn how to cook so my husband won’t look elsewhere.”

Why not:

“I want to learn how to cook because feeding my family is an act of care, and I hope Allah rewards me for every meal I prepare with love and ihsan.”

Instead of:

“I need to keep my house perfectly clean so my husband doesn’t have a reason to look elsewhere.”

Why not:

“I want to maintain a clean and peaceful home because cleanliness and excellence matter to me, and I want to fulfil the responsibilities Allah entrusts to me with ihsan.”

Instead of:

“I need to look as beautiful as possible so my husband will remain faithful to me.”

Why not:

“I want to take care of myself because Allah has entrusted me with my body, and I want to feel good, confident, and presentable for myself and for my spouse.”

The difference may seem small, but I think it is actually huge.

Because one intention makes you feel as though you are constantly competing against every woman in the world for your husband’s attention.

The other reminds you that you are simply trying to do your part well for the sake of Allah.

And there is so much peace in that.

Marriage is an amanah.

I will always encourage women to learn how to be good wives.

Learn how to cook.

Learn how to manage a home.

Learn how to communicate.

Learn how to care for your spouse.

Learn how to resolve conflict.

Learn how to create a loving home.

Learn what your rights and responsibilities are.

But learn these things for the right reasons.

Learn them because one day, Allah may place an amanah on your shoulders, and you want to carry that amanah well.

Learn because you want to practise ihsan.

Learn because you want to be a source of comfort to your spouse.

Learn because you want to build a home where there is sakinah, mercy and love.

Not because you believe your performance is what will determine whether another human being chooses righteousness.

Marriage was never presented to us as a woman’s lifelong audition to prove that she is worthy of being chosen and kept.

And perhaps this is something we need to remind ourselves of more often:

I can strive to be the best wife I can be without believing that I am responsible for every choice my husband makes.

I can love deeply without carrying the burden of controlling someone’s heart.

I can serve my family without making my worth dependent on how perfectly I serve them.

I can learn, grow, cook, clean, beautify myself, nurture my home and love my husband deeply—all while remembering that my ultimate intention is Allah.

Because people make choices.

And sometimes, despite our very best efforts, things don’t turn out the way we hoped.

But if we did it for Allah, nothing was wasted.

If Allah accepted it, it was never for nothing.

So perhaps as we prepare ourselves for marriage or even as those already married we should ask ourselves:

“What is my intention?”

And then renew it.

Ya Allah, allow me to become the kind of wife who does her responsibilities with ihsan, loves with sincerity, serves without losing herself, and gives without believing that I can control the choices of another human being. Make my marriage a means of drawing closer to You, and make every act of love and service an act of worship for Your sake. Āmīn.

Subscribe now

Share

In the name of Allah, The Entirely Merciful, The Especially Merciful.

By now, you probably know that I love relating little life experiences to bigger life lessons. So, here’s another one.

I don’t really like soya milk, especially homemade ones. I’ve tried making it a few times before, and every single time I practically had to force it down my throat. Eventually, I accepted that maybe I just wasn’t a fan of it and decided to stop making (or drinking) it altogether.

Then recently, my sister told me about a recipe she had tried that turned out really well. She sent me a voice note explaining every step, and I followed it carefully. well, except for maybe adding a little more milk than she suggested. 🤭

To my surprise, it turned out amazing! I only made four bottles because I didn’t want to make too much on my first attempt.

When the four bottles finished, I became confident enough to double the recipe so everyone at home could enjoy it too. Once again, I followed the instructions as closely as I could, hoping this batch would turn out even better than the first. It tasted great, so I happily put it in the fridge to chill.

The next morning, I took out a bottle, ready to have it but realized it had spoiled.

Not just that bottle—the entire batch.

All the time, effort, and money I had invested were gone.

I was in disbelief. At first, I convinced myself that maybe it had coagulated because of the extra milk I added. I even took a few sips before finally admitting that it had actually gone bad.

For the rest of the day, I kept thinking of where I went wrong.

Did I leave it out too long before refrigerating it?

Did I add too much milk?

Was it the date syrup?

Did I cook it for too long?

The questions kept coming.

But none of them changed one simple reality:

The batch had spoiled.

Yes, next time I’ll probably make a few adjustments. I’ll be more careful with timing and maybe try not to add more milk than I was told. But I’ve also learned that I have to accept that this particular batch is gone. No amount of overthinking can bring it back.

Isn’t life like that sometimes?

We pour our hearts into a relationship, a friendship, a business, a career, or a dream. We give it our best. We pray. We plan. We sacrifice.

Yet, despite all our efforts, things still fall apart.

Our first instinct is often to search endlessly for where we went wrong. We replay every conversation, every decision, every tiny detail, hoping to find the one mistake that explains everything.

Reflection is good. Self-evaluation is necessary. We should always be willing to learn from our mistakes.

But we must also recognize another reality:

Sometimes, despite doing our best, things simply don’t work out because Allah has decreed otherwise.

Not every loss is proof that you failed.

Not every ending is evidence that you weren’t enough.

There is a beautiful balance between taking responsibility for our actions and surrendering to Allah’s decree.

Allah says:

“...Then when you have made a decision, put your trust in Allah. Indeed, Allah loves those who rely upon Him.”

(Qur’an 3:159)

After doing what is within our control, we leave the outcome to the One who controls everything.

And He also reminds us:

“...Perhaps you hate a thing while it is good for you, and perhaps you love a thing while it is bad for you. Allah knows, while you do not know.”

(Qur’an 2:216)

Maybe that spoiled soya milk was just spoiled soya milk.

Or maybe Allah was gently reminding me that my peace should never depend on outcomes, but on trusting His wisdom.

Because sometimes, the lesson is worth far more than the milk.

Subscribe now

Share

Today, I come before my Substack family with a humble plea: invest in your akhirah.

At Serene Soul Sisters Halaqa, we recently began fundraising for a Sadaqatul Jariyah project aimed at renovating local madrasas within our community.

We believe that creating a better environment for seeking Islamic knowledge is an investment that continues to benefit generations to come. Every prayer prayed there, every Qur’an recited, and every lesson taught becomes part of an ongoing reward, bi’ithnillah.

Your support, no matter how little, would mean so much to us and, more importantly, serves as an opportunity for you to actively invest in your akhirah.

If every subscriber reading this gave even a small amount, it would go a long way in helping us bring this project to life and make it a success.

“Who is it that will give Allah a goodly loan so He may multiply it for him many times over?”

(Quran 2:245)

And the Prophet ﷺ said:

“Every day two angels come down from Heaven, and one of them says, ‘O Allah! Compensate every person who spends in Your cause,’ and the other says, ‘O Allah! Destroy every miser.’”

Sahih al-Bukhari

May Allah place barakah in your wealth, accept it from you as Sadaqatul Jariyah, and make it heavy on your scale of good deeds. Ameen.

Acct no: 8065330371

Acct name: Abubakar Zainab

Moniepoint microfinance

Share

Subscribe now

In The Name of Allah, The Entirely Merciful, The Especially Mercy.

Soo, I’m officially in my jilbab era. I’ve developed a deep love for this beautiful piece of clothing, and I’m honestly on a mission to collect it in different colors and textures. It’s become a little personal project of mine. Anytime I go to the market, I plan to pick up one or two fabrics from our usual material spot and take them to this really good tailor we recently found.

The last time I went, I got this really nice burnt orange fabric. I could already picture myself in my burnt orange jilbab before it was even sewn. I handed it over to the tailor, but he mentioned they had stopped collecting orders for Eid. I told him it was fine; he could just make it after Eid since I wasn’t in a rush.

A week after Eid which was about three weeks later, I called, and he said it was ready. Great, right? I sent a dispatch rider, but for some reason, delivery just wasn’t working out For a whole week, I kept trying. On the last day, when the tailor wasn’t even picking my calls, I was so frustrated I felt like I didn’t even want it anymore.

Then, two days later, he finally called and sent it over.

But the excitement was gone when it arrived. When I tried it on, it wasn’t as long as I like my jilbabs, and honestly, I didn’t like how it looked on me because of the length.

And that’s when I paused… and reflected.

Lately, I’ve been working on not letting small things ruin my mood. So I tried to see this differently. I felt like Allah was gently detaching my heart from it so I wouldn’t be too hurt by the outcome. The version of me from before would have been really upset about this jilbab. But instead, I found ease in redirecting my thoughts.

I remembered I had planned to get the same jilbab for a friend so we could twin. She isn’t as tall as I am, so this length would actually be perfect for her. So I decided I’d keep this for her, and In shaa Allah, I’ll get another one for myself.

And then I reflected even deeper on rizq.

I have this habit most times I’m eating something. I pause and think: Allah made this grow, nurtured it through so many stages, and brought it all the way to me because it is my rizq. And it reminds me that whatever is written for me will always find its way to me.

As Allah says in the Qur’an:

“And there is no creature on earth but that upon Allah is its provision…”

(Qur’an 11:6)

And also:

“No soul will die until it has received all of its provision…”

(Hadith, reported in Sunan Ibn Majah)

So I thought about this jilbab the same way. Maybe it was never truly mine from the beginning. Even though I longed for it, imagined it, and waited for it, Allah simply did not write it as my portion.

And I had a choice:

To resist and be upset… or to accept His decree with ease.

Allah reminds us:

“Perhaps you dislike a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah knows, while you know not.”

(Qur’an 2:216)

So I chose to accept it.

Because getting angry wouldn’t have changed anything. But choosing contentment? That changed everything within me.

And honestly, that’s a win I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Ya Rabb, make our hearts content with what You have written for us, and remove attachment from what is not ours. Grant us peace in Your decree, trust in Your plans, and barakah in our rizq.

Replace every disappointment with something better, and draw us closer to You through all that we experience.

Ameen.

Subscribe now

Share

I can’t be the only one who randomly stumbles upon a verse of the Qur’an or a name of Allah that perfectly aligns with a personal reflection at that exact moment.

Tonight, while watching Qur’an 30 for 30, I heard a beautiful verse that I don’t think I had ever truly internalized before. And somehow, it perfectly matched something I had been randomly reflecting on earlier this afternoon.

“Innahu Kana bi Hafiyya

Indeed, He(Allah) has always been very attentive to me”

(Quran 19:47)

One of the most comforting conversations I have is with my Rabb.

I have this habit, I can’t even remember when it started, but it has become a part of me. Whenever something disturbs my heart, I tell Allah about it. Not just once, but multiple times throughout the day.

One moment that stands out. You know those random moments when you’re asleep, and you suddenly wake up for just a few seconds before drifting back to sleep? In those quiet seconds, I often whisper my worries and complaints to Allah.

And I’ve noticed something beautiful over time: whenever I go through moments like this, I eventually receive a response. It might not always be exactly what I wanted, but it’s always something that brings my heart peace.

Recently, I made a very specific du’a. I asked Allah to take away any little remnants of feelings I still had for someone. For two days in a row, I kept whispering this same request to Him during random moments.

Alhamdulillah, within those two days, I noticed drastic changes in my heart.

So when I heard the words tonight: “My Lord is truly attentive to me,” something inside me moved.

How can I not love a Lord who loves me in more ways than I can ever imagine?

This is a gentle reminder, to myself first, and to you my dearies to always take your complaints to Allah. Big or small, spoken aloud or whispered in the quiet of the night.

Because only He holds the solutions to every single one of them.

Fee Amanillah🤍

Subscribe now

Share

I once saw a post that said, “I can’t wait to get married (happily married) so I never have to talk to any man again,” and to be very honest—same sis, sameeee, wallahi.

As a teenager, I was always watching Disney, Barbie, and fairytales, so much so that I could sing their songs word for word. As a teenager, love to me looked magical, effortless, and unreal in the best way. But Alhamdulillah, as an adult, I’ve been given the opportunity to learn what love truly is from the best of people to ever walk this earth: our Prophet ﷺ and his companions.

Through my halaqah, where we study the stories of The Firsts, every time we come across a love story, I’m left in complete awe by the standards these remarkable people set. From the beautiful marriage of the Prophet ﷺ and Khadijah (رضي الله عنها), to Ali and Fatimah (رضي الله عنهما), to Uthman and Ruqayyah (رضي الله عنها), and many more. These stories didn’t just inspire me, they upgraded my understanding of love.

Allah says:

“And among His signs is that He created for you spouses from among yourselves so that you may find tranquility in them, and He placed between you affection and mercy. Indeed in that are signs for a people who give thought.”

(Qur’an 30:21)

These examples made the lover-girl in me feel seen and valid. They taught me that love is not just butterflies and fairytales. Love is sacrifice. Love is consideration. Love is showing up through ease and hardship. Love is not looking the other way when things get tough, but holding on to your spouse through every season. Love is unity, mercy, patience, and commitment.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The best of you are the best to their families, and I am the best to my family.”

(Tirmidhi)

This might be the most vulnerable I’ve ever been on this app, and as much as my overthinking brain is screaming “don’t post this,” I’m still going to go ahead.

The first time I ever considered talking to someone I liked, I was 21, old enough, I thought. It felt amazing to think I had someone, until everything came crashing down. My first heartbreak? Yeah… it was not funny. Never in my wildest imagination did I think it would hurt that much.

But Alhamdulillah, it changed me for the better. I grew subhanAllah, in ways I didn’t know I needed. Productivity became my coping mechanism, and one thing I remember doing constantly was silently whispering:

“Ya Rabb, I never want to go through this again.”

Allah reminds us:

“Indeed, with hardship comes ease.”

(Qur’an 94:6)

I decided not to get emotionally involved with anyone for a while and instead focused on myself and that was one of the best decisions I ever made. I didn’t want to use anyone as a rebound, so I stayed with myself. I learned to enjoy my own company, to be genuinely content alone.

When I finally healed and felt ready to move on, I promised myself I would never pour my heart into a talking stage. I give myself a week or two to observe, assess. Once I noticed red flags I couldn’t deal with, I’d walk away. No emotional attachment, no dramatic goodbye, Effortless.

I also decided I had enough male friends and wasn’t interested in forming new connections. And honestly? I was doing really well. I was praying consistently, guarding my heart, until recently.

I don’t know if I forgot my own rules or simply let my guard down, but I found myself in a place I hadn’t been in a longgg time. Even though I had a feeling it wouldn’t work out, I didn’t step back. I didn’t want to. I felt like even if we didn’t end up together, I wanted him in my corner forever. My brain warned me. Loudly. But as they say, “the heart wants what it wants” and I gave in. Then, over something almost insignificant, everything came crashing down.

As much as I believe this was Allah answering my duʿā’, I can’t help but feel sad, because it feels like I lost a friend I didn’t want to lose.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as my first heartbreak, but there’s this quiet heaviness that creeps in unexpectedly. You remember something they said, words that sounded like promises. Words they might not even remember saying. And even if they do, it probably didn’t mean as much to them as they did to you. What hurts too is realizing that the person you could call or text at any hour is no longer there.

This experience has made me realize something deeply: our hearts, especially as women are not built to go through this repeatedly. Wallahi, sometimes it feels like a part of my soul will remain with these people. how do people experience this over and over again and still keep their hearts soft?

what means the world to us might mean absolutely nothing to them. And this is why, deep down we know these kinds of relationships are not halal. But what do we do in a society that makes it feel like if you don’t engage in these talking stages, you’ll end up single forever?

So, I’m going back to my drawing board, in shā’ Allah.

There’s no point in saving someone’s number before those two weeks of proper assessment. Assess. Observe. Pray Salat al-Istikhārah. And when Allah shows you the signs, let go effortlessly.

There’s no point waiting for red flags to turn green overnight. you’re only preparing the bed of heartbreak you’ll eventually lie on.

As difficult as it is, don’t let your heart become too attached. Constantly remind yourself: this could end at any moment. And if it does, you may hurt, but you won’t be destroyed.

Never cross the boundaries Allah has set. We say this lightly, but wallahi it’s not easy. When emotions are involved, lines blur, and boundaries we never thought we’d cross suddenly don’t seem so far.

And most importantly, Pray. Pray. And pray some more.

“And whoever puts their trust in Allah, then He is sufficient for them.”

(Qur’an 65:3)

May Allah protect our hearts, grant us love that is halal, gentle, and lasting and reward every tear we’ve cried in silence. Ameen.

Subscribe now

Share

Do you know how difficult it is to find a potential spouse in this day and age?

And this isn’t to say that I’m perfect. Or that I don’t believe Allah will bring the right person at the right time. I firmly believe that what is written for me will reach me, no matter how delayed it seems. But over the past few months, I’ve found myself reflecting deeply on this topic. I think I even started writing about it at some point and abandoned it along the way. Hopefully, this time, I’ll see it through.

Last year, I attended one of the best premarital counseling sessions I’ve ever experienced, hosted by Aziza Idris. I remember starting a write up shortly after the class, but procrastination got the better of me. In sha Allah, I’ll revisit my notes and complete that post another time.

One of the major takeaways from that session was learning what to look out for when choosing a spouse. The essential boxes that should be ticked before moving forward. Wallāhi, everything she mentioned was valid and necessary. Nothing excessive or unrealistic. Yet, when it comes to putting these principles into practice, it feels almost impossible. You barely even get past the basics before you’re met with glaring red flags. You haven’t even touched your non-negotiables, and already, the bare minimum seems absent.

What’s even more concerning is that when you insist on doing things the right way, being intentional, cautious, and principled, you’re labeled as too choosy, unrealistic, or even delusional. And wallāhi, as I’ve said before, what we’re asking for is not perfection.

Allah reminds us of the purpose of marriage when He says:

“And among His signs is that He created for you spouses from among yourselves that you may find tranquility in them, and He placed between you affection and mercy. Indeed, in that are signs for a people who reflect.”

(Qur’an 30:21)

Tranquility. Affection. Mercy. These are qualities that require intention, character and responsibility. Unfortunately, many people are getting married without these foundations. They move forward simply because it seems like the next step and we see the consequences unfold later. Looking around me, I see a lot of sisters struggling to get married but is it really worth it to just rush into it for the sake of it. I once had a conversation with someone who is like a mother to me, and I mentioned how nearly everyone from my mother’s generation seemed to get married in their late teens or very early twenties. I asked her how marriage was during their time, and she explained that when a man approached a woman back then, it was almost always with the clear intention of marriage. That conversation, combined with my own observations, left me thinking deeply.

Perhaps, as an ummah, we need to pause and reflect. We need to come together and seek forgiveness from our Lord. The delay of this rizq, companionship and marriage for many of us may not be random. It may be tied to our collective shortcomings and sins.

Allah says:

“And whatever strikes you of disaster, it is because of what your hands have earned; but He pardons much.”

(Qur’an 42:30)

Even among those who have been blessed with marriage, a large percentage are unhappy, struggling, or barely holding on. Isn’t that a sign in itself? Isn’t it time we turned back to Allah sincerely?

I don’t even want to dwell too much on the rate of infidelity in our communities. This is zina we’re talking about, one of the gravest sins, and yet it has become disturbingly normalized. When major sins are treated lightly, should we be surprised if we invite Allah’s displeasure upon ourselves?

Another major issue is the unwillingness of spouses to carry out their roles and responsibilities. Many of us enter marriage without truly understanding our rights and obligations as husbands and wives. We’re not willing to learn; we assume love alone is enough to sustain a marriage. But when ignorance meets responsibility, problems are inevitable.

Allah reminds us:

“Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.”

(Qur’an 13:11)

So perhaps the solution doesn’t start with finding the “right” person, but with becoming the right people. Individually and collectively.

And Allah gives us a clear path forward:

“And seek forgiveness from your Lord and turn to Him in repentance. He will grant you good provision for an appointed term.”

(Qur’an 11:3)

We really need to come together as an ummah and find a way out of this growing crisis, and what better place to start than sincere repentance and self-reflection.

This is a gentle reminder for everyone reading this, including myself, to pause, reflect, and sincerely say:

Astaghfirullāh.

Rabbana hab lana min azwajina wa dhuriyyatina qurrata A’yunin waj’alna lil muttaqina imama

Our Lord, grant us from our spouses and offspring comfort to our eyes and make us an example for the righteous.

Rabbi inni Lima anzalta ilayya min khairin faqeer

My Lord, indeed I am, for whatever good You would send down to me, in need.

Rabbi la tazarni fardan wa anta khairun wariseen

My lord, do not leave me alone(without an offspring), and You are the best of inheritors.

Share

Subscribe now

One very disturbing question I’ve been asked by several people even before I completed my education is: “Why are nurses wicked?”

Each time I heard it, my first thought was, “This is exactly one of the reasons I didn’t want to study nursing.” But even then, I would find myself defending the profession. I’d explain how exhausting the work can be and how much pressure nurses carry every day.

As time went on, my response changed. Now, whenever someone asks that question, I simply say: “It depends on the personality of the person you met.” Because truly, I’ve encountered rude nurses, but I’ve also met some absolutely amazing ones.

At the same time, whenever you listen to nurses, many will tell you how exhausting it is to deal with people and that’s true. But exhaustion does not mean anyone is forced to continue in a job they can no longer do with sincerity.

Recently, I made a small vow to myself:

The day I become bitter about this job, the day I show up and decide not to care for the people who need me, will be the day I consider resigning, in shā’ Allāh.

By Allah, the moment you truly understand that working in healthcare is an amānah, a trust that can either delay your entry into Jannah or even prevent it entirely is the moment you decide to either give your best or choose another career path.

“And fulfill every covenant, for every covenant will be questioned.” (Qur’an 17:34)

I know the health sector in this country is terrible; I don’t even want to get into that. But the real question remains: Are you, as a practitioner, doing your best? Or do you simply sit and point fingers at superiors who also have their own faults?

I genuinely cannot understand how someone can leave their house to work in a hospital, arrive to see patients waiting for care, and then choose to sit and do absolutely nothing. Recently I met this group of ladies that just sit and gist from the beginning of their shift till closing time.

I always emphasize self-awareness and reflection and people working in healthcare need to practice this even more than others. At the end of your day, after your shift or your call, take a moment to reflect honestly:

Did I do my best? What did I do well that I should maintain? And where do I need to improve?

One thing that helps me strive for ihsān(excellence) is imagining myself or my loved ones as the patient because wallāhi, the tables can turn very quickly. Am I caring for this patient the way I would want to be cared for if I were in their shoes?

“Indeed, Allah loves the doers of excellence (al-muḥsinīn).” (Qur’an 2:195)

“Whoever saves one life, it is as if he has saved all mankind.” (Qur’an 5:32)

I still remember when a lecturer once said, “Working in healthcare, especially as a nurse, is exhausting. You may not be paid well or appreciated, but remember that your reward is with God. And I promise you, when you truly do your best, you’ll begin to see the reward even in this world.”

And during my internship, a senior colleague told me, “This profession can take you to Jannah or to Jahannam.” These words have stayed with me.

“Is the reward for goodness anything but goodness.” (Qur’an 55:60)

“So whoever does an atom’s weight of good will see it, and whoever does an atom’s weight of evil will see it.” (Qur’an 99:7–8)

Working in healthcare is service, It’s worship, If we do it with mercy, sincerity, and excellence, it becomes a path to Jannah. If we neglect it, it may lead to regret beyond this world.

May Allah give us the ability to do right by our patients.

Subscribe now

Share

I’m not big on birthdays—mainly because I consider them bid’ah, and I’m trying, as much as possible, to cut out anything that falls into that. I’m far from perfect, but I’m a striving Muslimah.

About 4-5 birthdays back, I dreaded the coming of the day, I would start having anxiety immediately the month of September comes and i would feel heavy anytime I thought of the specific day, I would wish the day could just skip and cease to exist. And when the day comes, I couldn’t wait for it to be over, I would feel terrible almost the whole day and definitely cry before the day comes to an end. I “self diagnosed” it birthday depression and asides the people that remembered on their own, I never made announcements that it was my birthday.

Last year, after having my terrible birthday depression, I prayed sincerely. I asked Allah that, even though I don’t celebrate my birthday, He should grant me peace on that day. I don’t want to feel anxious, I don’t want to use this day to think about all the aspects of my life I’ve failed in or what I haven’t achieved at my big age. I want to be grateful to my rabb like I usually am everyday, I want to look back at my life and be happy despite me not being where I want to be yet or fully becoming who I want to be. Because this life is a journey not a destination, for our final destination will be Jannatul Firdause in sha Allah where we will get more than what we imagined perfection to be.

So, despite not celebrating this day, I want to take this moment to say:

Alhamdullilah ya rabb.

Alhamdullilah for Islam.

Alhamdullilah for guidance.

Alhamdullilah for a loving family that always has my back.

Alhamdullilah for amazing friends.

Alhamdullilah for good health.

Alhamdullilah for Allah’s provisions.

Alhamdullilah for Knowledge.

Alhamdullilah for everything for I could never count the blessings of my Rabb.

P.S.: I teared up a little writing this, but this time the tears came with a smile — and Alhamdulillah, they were not from a heavy heart.

It’s 3:44 a.m., and sleep feels far away. My mind keeps replaying some decisions I’ve made. I catch myself wondering what if I had chosen differently? Would my life look any better, or worse, right now?

As someone who can be painfully indecisive, I’ve learned that one of the greatest anchors for me — aside from carefully weighing both the short-term and long-term consequences is Istikhara. It’s my safe harbour when the waves of uncertainty get too high.

On nights like this, when “what ifs” start creeping in, my heart finds reassurance in one simple fact: I prayed Istikhara. I sought guidance from the One who sees what I cannot, who knows what’s hidden, and who always decrees with wisdom and mercy.

Allah reminds us in the Qur’an:

“…And when you have decided, then rely upon Allah. Indeed, Allah loves those who rely upon Him.” (Surah Aal ‘Imran 3:159)

Istikhara isn’t a magic shortcut to a smooth life. It’s a surrender, an admission that my knowledge is limited, my foresight flawed, but my Lord’s wisdom is perfect. Whatever the outcome, I can rest knowing that my choice was handed over to the One who writes only what is best for me, in this world and the next.

And so, even at 3:44 a.m., with unanswered questions swirling in my mind, I choose to trust. Trust that what reached me was meant for me. Trust that what passed me by was never mine. And trust that Allah’s plan is always better than my own.

O Allah, grant me peace of mind and tranquility of heart, make my affairs easy, and turn away from me whatever harms me.

Subscribe now

Share

I recently downloaded Temple Run—just for old times' sake. I remember how thrilled I used to be playing it as a child, or maybe a young teenager. It was one of those games that brought so much excitement back then.

But here's the funny part: it doesn’t feel the same anymore. It’s not as thrilling. In fact, I found it quite boring. Still, I didn’t delete it. I figured I’d keep it for those moments when I’m bored and have nothing else to do.

A few days ago, while mindlessly playing it and letting my thoughts wander, something struck me: This game is a lot like life. Let me explain.

We’re constantly on this fast-paced track, running toward what we believe is success—whether in the dunya (worldly life) or in the deen (faith). But just like in Temple Run, the road isn't smooth. There are sharp turns, some expected, some completely out of nowhere. We try to collect as many coins as possible—In real life, these coins could be anything — success, recognition, wealth, comfort, or even good deeds. We dodge obstacles, stumble, get up, and keep going. But no matter how well we play, the game ends. We never really reach the “finish line”—because the end is inevitable. Death meets us mid-run.

This realization, paired with something I read recently, truly made me pause:

“We often say that time is passing, but in reality, we are passing.

Every second that slips is part of us fading.

We don't spend time, we spend ourselves. Every breath, every blink, and every hour that passes isn't just time moving on. It's you and me getting closer to the end of our journey.

At the end of the day, we will leave this world, and time will remain. We will be gone, but timewill continue to tick for those who remain.”

(By olaitan maryam)

Eventually, we will leave this world. Time will remain. It will continue ticking for those left behind.

Allah reminds us so powerfully in the Qur’an:

“By Time, indeed mankind is in loss — except those who believe, do righteous deeds, encourage truth, and encourage patience.”

Surah Al-Asr (103:1-2)

So maybe it’s time to ask ourselves: What coins are we really chasing? And are they the ones that matter most?

May Allah keep us steadfast on His path,

Guide our hearts toward what pleases Him,

And help us run the race that leads to true success — not just in this world, but in the Hereafter.

Ameen. 🤍

Subscribe now

Share

I know I went MIA for a while.

I didn’t go ghost because I had nothing to say—in fact, the thoughts never stop coming. But every time something meaningful crosses my mind, I either don’t get the chance to write it down, or when I finally do, the feeling is gone. Sometimes I’ve already forgotten what I wanted to say, and other times, I just feel “blah” after writing it. Still, I’m making a conscious effort to do better, in sha Allah.

Life lately has been this strange balance of amazing and overwhelming. The part that gives me the most anxiety is reaching a milestone and then having to face the uncertainty of what comes next. The “what now?” moments. Not knowing where life will take me next, or how it will unfold, can be incredibly unsettling.

And yes, Kubrah, Allah has always come through for you. Always better than you imagined. But even knowing that, the anxiety still creeps in. That said, it’s only through Allah’s mercy that I stay grounded in the midst of all this uncertainty.

“Whoever places their trust in Allah, He will be sufficient for them.”

(Qur’an 65:3)

And I truly believe that my Rabb is sufficient for me.

As much as I long for stability, I believe Allah will soon bless me with what’s best. He always does.

Funny enough, this isn’t even what I originally sat down to write. But I guess that’s how reflections go—sometimes your heart takes the pen in a different direction. So here we are.

Something happened recently—an incident that made me reflect on a pattern I've seen before. And in thinking about it, I felt like I had to share.

If you know me, you know I’m someone who pours my heart into the things that matter to me. I remember when I started my internship—I gave it my all, like I always do. Did that effort sometimes lead to me being taken for granted? Yes. But my conscience wouldn’t let me clock out if I knew the work on my shift wasn’t finished. Even when I looked at a patient and thought, “They’re not mine,” there’d always be another voice in my head saying, “Just finish it so you can rest with a clear heart.”

By the end of my internship, I knew I had done my absolute best. I didn’t cut corners. Not because I couldn’t, but because I just couldn't bring myself to cheat the process. That never sat right with me.

So when, due to something irrelevant(missing presentation on my day off for work), my name ended up on a list of “offenders”—while those who actually slacked off got away—I was hurt. Deeply. It felt unfair. I kept thinking, “Can’t someone at least acknowledge the effort?”

But what I failed to understand in that moment was this: every bit of that hard work, every choice not to cut corners, wasn’t for anyone else. It was between me and my Lord.

And I don’t need recognition from anyone when I have that.

I know sometimes we find ourselves comparing ourselves to people who disobey Allah in various ways and still seem to have their life perfectly in order while you that try your best seem to be moving from one problem to another.

That incident was a reminder that whatever we do, we must do it sincerely for the sake of Allah. Not for praise. Not for credit. But because it's the right thing to do—and because we’re ultimately accountable only to Him.

Nothing and no one in this world can reward you the way Allah can. No title, no applause, no recognition compares to the peace that comes from knowing your efforts are known by the One who matters most.

So here’s a gentle reminder—from me to you:

Always do good.

And do it for the sake of Allah.

“Do good, indeed, Allah loves the doers of good“

(Quran 2:195)

May Allah continue to use us for good and guide our intentions in all that we do.

Ameen.

Subscribe now

Share

I remember when I started my Substack a little over a year ago. I said, "If a single person reads and benefits from my post, then Alhamdulillah." Today, I have over 100 subscribers, and all I can say is Alhamdulillah. This success is only by the will of Allah.

One thing that often scares me while doing things like this is the fear of riya (showing off). No matter how hard we try to fight it, we humans naturally seek recognition and desire to make an impact. This is when revisiting our intentions becomes crucial. Sometimes, when I write something and notice it isn’t getting many views, I start to wonder why. In those moments, I remind myself of my initial intention: if even one person has benefited from this, then Alhamdullilah. And if no one did, it’s still my intention to make a positive impact that matters.

One thing I’ve read that reassured me about the fear of riya is this:

“Imam Mawlud says that abandoning a good act out of fear of ostentation is worse than ostentation itself. A person should not abandon, for example, going to the mosque because he fears ostentation as the motive. One should not submit to an irrational fear that is perhaps inspired by the evil whispering and thus deprive oneself of the blessings of congregational prayer in the mosque. It is better to continue with one’s good deeds and to work to keep one’s intentions pure and sincere”

May Allah grant us the ability to do everything for His sake alone, and protect us from riya. And May Allah continue to use us for good.

I’m truly grateful for my Substack community. Each and every one of you is a blessing, and I appreciate your support. May Allah bless you all and never leave you to yourselves, even for the blink of an eye. 🤍

🤍&💡

Subscribe now

Share

“What is meant for you will reach you, even if it’s beneath two mountains. And what is not meant for you will not reach you, even if it’s between your two lips.”

A small incident that happened on Friday has had this phrase echoing in my mind ever since.

I had been wanting to get henna done since Wednesday, but I didn’t know where to go around here, and I didn’t have henna at home to do it myself. When my initial efforts didn’t work out, I decided to ask my sister, whom I was visiting on Friday, if she had any henna. If not, I figured I’d just let it go.

When I arrived at her place, the last thing I expected to find was a henna artist, especially since there was no family event or any special occasion coming up. But there it was — an expert ready to do my henna, and I absolutely loved it.

What began as a plan to paint just my fingers turned into much more than I expected.

We plan, and Allah plans — and He is the best of planners. Sometimes, we might want just the bare minimum, but Allah knows what’s best for us, and delays things so we can receive something even better.

This incident was a beautiful reminder that whatever is meant for me will reach me, no matter where I am, as long as it’s part of His will. It reassured me that I don’t need to force things; what’s meant for me will come, effortlessly, when the time is right.

May Allah say “be” to all our prayers and wishes, and grant them to us according to His infinite wisdom.

Subscribe now

Share

You know how, when you first hear something from someone, you always associate it with that person? The first time I came across this phrase was from my beloved sister Mussarah, and since then, these words have been imprinted in my mind in her voice.

Today, I found myself reflecting on this saying in a very personal way. Here’s what happened:

I left home this morning without eating anything, not even drinking water. I had packed some food to eat later, but for one reason or another, I didn’t get the chance to have it. To make matters more pressing, I had an assignment to finish after work, so I stayed behind a bit longer. While on the assignment, I rushed as fast as I could because all I could think about was getting home to eat something warm. I thought, why settle for cold food when I could wait just a little longer for a hot meal? But when I finally finished, rushed home, and arrived at the door, I realized my family had gone out and forgotten to leave the key for me. So, I had to wait outside until they returned.

I’ve always been the kind of person who tries not to fall behind, constantly pushing myself to keep pace with my peers. One of my weaknesses, though, is rushing through things too quickly, although I’ve been consciously working on it and have made great progress. It feels like Allah has always guided me to slow down and recognize that His timing is better. From as far back as primary school, when a crisis forced us to move unexpectedly, I ended up repeating a class at a new school. I remember working twice as hard, aiming to leave secondary school by SS2 so I could catch up with my mates, but not only did that not happen, I had to wait two extra years before entering university. And it wasn’t due to poor grades—I was top of my class in SS3. But again, Allah’s plan was better than mine.

So, when this small incident happened today, I had to remind myself: Kubrah, komin sawrin ki sai kin jira lokachin Allah (Kubrah, no matter how fast you move, you must wait for Allah's timing).

"Do you not see that Allah gently drives the clouds, then joins them together, piling them up into masses, from which you see raindrops come forth? And He sends down from the sky mountains of clouds loaded with hail, pouring it on whoever He wills and averting it from whoever He wills."

(Qur'an 24:43)

This incident also made me reflect on something I’ve been desperately asking Allah for. It felt like a wake-up call, reminding me to stop imposing my own time frame on things and to trust that it will happen when Allah knows it’s best.

Umar ibn al-Khattab reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “If you were to rely upon Allah with the reliance due to Him, He would provide for you just as He provides for the birds. They go out in the morning with empty stomachs and return full.”

(Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhī 2344)

May Allah continue to grant us sabr (patience) during our waiting periods.

Subscribe now

Share

This piece has been sitting in my notes for over a month, and today I finally decided to edit and post it. Better late than never, I guess.

I recently read a book called Broken, and it taught me a lot. It was an amazing read, and if I were to rate it, I'd give it a solid 10/10. What I loved most was how realistic it was. The book touched on truths in our society that are often ignored or swept under the rug. One thing that kept echoing in my mind as I read was:

"Allah ya sa mu fi karfin zukatan mu, ya raba mu da mummunar qaddara, ya kuma tsare mana mutuncin mu."

(May Allah make us stronger than our Nafs, protect us from bad destiny, and safeguard our dignity.)

Now, let me share a few lessons I took away from the book:

1. The Tricks of Shaytan

We once discussed in our Serene Soul Sisters meeting how patient Shaytan is in leading people astray. He doesn’t rush you into big sins—he pulls you in slowly. This book perfectly illustrated that point, showing how Shaytan gradually led the characters from something seemingly innocent, like holding hands, to going much deeper than they ever intended.

One line that stood out to me was when a character said, "There are always three people in a room, never just two. The third could either be a chaperone or Shaytan." Sometimes we think we have strong self-control, but in truth, Shaytan is far more cunning. Prevention is always better. As much as possible, avoid being in an enclosed space with a non-mahram.

"Surely, Shaytan is an enemy to you, so take (treat) him as an enemy. He only invites his followers to become dwellers of the blazing fire."

(Qur'an, 35:6)

"Iblis said: 'Because You have sent me astray, surely, I will lie in wait against them (human beings) on Your straight path. Then, I will come to them from before them and behind them, from their right and from their left, and You will not find most of them thankful.'

(Qur’an, 7:16-17)

2. Religious Compatibility

Lately, I've been reflecting a lot on the importance of religious compatibility. I can’t imagine being with someone who thinks I’m “overdoing it” when I’m simply trying to better myself. I need someone who, instead of criticizing, helps me improve. The story in the book highlighted how crucial this is. One of the reasons the characters kept falling into haram was that one of them had a low level of commitment to the deen.

“Corrupt women are for corrupt men, and corrupt men for corrupt women. Good women are for good men, and good men for good women. They are innocent of the calumnies people utter. There shall be forgiveness for them and a generous provision.”

(Qur’an 24:26)

3. Repentance

One of the most beautiful parts of the story was how Allah separated the characters because of their sin, only to reunite them in a far more blessed way after they repented. It reminded me that every delay in life is a blessing. Had they gotten together when they wanted, they wouldn’t have achieved the spiritual growth they did by the time they were finally reunited.

When you honor the boundaries set by Allah, He will surely take care of you.

“Truly, Allaah loves those who turn unto Him in repentance and loves those who purify themselves”

[al-Baqarah 2:222]

Share

Subscribe now

Mistakes are an inevitable part of being human, and we often find ourselves slipping up because perfection is beyond our reach. I believe this is why our Lord, the Most Merciful, continually reminds us not to despair when we have wronged ourselves and to never lose hope in His mercy.

“Verily, Allah loves those who repent and those who purify themselves”

[Al-bakarah 2:222]

Say, “O my servants who have transgressed against themselves(by sinning), do not despair of the mercy of Allah. Indeed, Allah forgives all sins. And it is He who is the Forgiving, the Merciful.”

[Az-zumar 39:53]

However, a recent incident prompted me to pause and remind myself, "Yes, Kubrah, we will make mistakes and learn from them, but let's strive to avoid those mistakes that lead to lifelong regrets." Imagine carrying the weight of a mistake that haunts you even in old age—one that fills you with guilt and makes you question your worth. That kind of self-loathing is a heavy burden to bear.

I know “Shaytan no dey rest”, constantly trying to lead us astray, but before making any decisions that could jeopardize your dunya (worldly life) and akhira (afterlife), please take a moment to reflect. Life-changing mistakes rarely happen overnight—they accumulate over time. So, make it a habit to reflect on your day. Be honest with yourself, and surround yourself with good people—those who care enough to call you out when you're veering off course.

“To be alone means that you avoid bad company. But to have a true friend is better than being alone.”

[Umar ibn Khattab(RA)]

May Allah continue to guide us on our journey in this dunya. May He protect us from mistakes that rob us of peace, and may we be among those who constantly turn to Him for forgiveness.

Subscribe now

Share

I’ve been worried about not retaining length lately because it feels like I loose everything during my wash days, so I’ve been looking for better ways to retain length.

I was making my hair and this lady just said “Allah ya bani irin gashin ki(May Allah give me your type of hair)”. I was taken aback, unable to respond and just lightly giggled.

When I later reflected on this incident, I just thought of the fact that I’ve been worried about not retaining length and my hair shrinkage but then this lady didn’t see any of that. All she saw was something she would love to have.

“And if you should count the favor of Allah, you could not enumerate them. Indeed, Allah is Forgiving and Merciful."

Surah Al-Nahl (16:18)

We could be living someones dream without realizing. sometimes we keep looking at the next big picture and forget about the blessings already in our life and this is why gratitude and contentment is very important. Yes, look at a bigger picture but always remember to be grateful and content with what you have at the moment and then pray to Allah for bigger and better things.

"And [remember] when your Lord proclaimed, 'If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe.'"

Surah Ibrahim (14:7)

P:s- my hair is not too long ooo 🤭…I’m just on a hair growth journey so you can leave tips in the comments.

Subscribe now

Share

The first six months after my graduation were spent trying to figure out what I was doing and constantly questioning if this was truly what I wanted to do with my life. To be honest, hospitals are my least favorite place to be; I always feel an inexplicable anxiety whenever I go there. I thought this feeling would eventually go away, but after school, the place I volunteered at made it worse. I found myself asking, “Kubrah, who sent you?” I couldn't wait to be done with it.

One afternoon, after returning from work, I kept wondering if this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Did I really want to go to work feeling anxious every day? This led me to have second thoughts about my field of study. But it was too late; I had already spent five years in school, and this wasn't the time to change my mind.

The only solution I had, as with every other problem I've faced, was to turn to my Lord. I added a short dua to my daily prayers: “Ya Allah, make me fall in love with what I do and where I work, and make me a form of noor (light) to my patients.”

A few months after starting this dua, I got my internship. It's been about three months now, and I don’t think I've ever gone to work with an anxious mind. I've come home physically tired but feeling so fulfilled on many occasions. I know this work can be draining, but if my Rabb has blessed me with the ability to be a form of noor during a person’s tough time, then I’ll forever be grateful for that gift.

So here I am, not fully settled and not completely sure if this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, but at this moment, the satisfaction I get from being of help, no matter how little, is what I’ll hold on to until my Rabb decides what next I should do with my life.

There’s an Arabic proverb that says, “Wherever Allah plants you, be fruitful.” I love this quote because it truly summarizes what a Muslim should be: a fruitful, productive tree wherever he/she is planted. You should be a valuable, active, and contributing member of your family, circle of friends, and your community. Aim to be a blessing to those who know you and even to those who do not.

May Allah continue to make us a form of noor to anyone we cross paths with.

Subscribe now

Share

Today is 23rd of shawwal, just 6 days left to the end of the month! You really don't want to miss out on this reward.

Let’s imagine this scenero pls. Imagine working for 30 days with a pay of 30m then at the end of this contract your employer tells you to work for 6 more days and he'll pay you 365 million. I'm 100 percent sure no one will refuse to work for the extra days.

But fasting sitta shawwal is much more beneficial than this scenero because your reward is with your lord and you never know the magnitude of reward you will get from your Rabb.

Abu Ayyub reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, "Whoever fasts the month of Ramadan and then follows it with six days of fasting in the month of Shawwal, it will be as if he has fasted for the entire year."

Source: Sahih Muslim 1164

We have a very merciful lord, HE gives us these pockets of small deed big reward that we should never take for granted.

May Allah continue to guide us and keep us firm on this beautiful deen. May Allah give us the ability to make good use of the blessings of Islam.

Subscribe now

Share