Book Review: Kismet by Waheeda Joosab

This touching love story was written by South African mom blogger Waheeda Joosab, who was also the winner of our Health and Wellness category for our #AckermansBYYSAPBAwards for “The key to self love.”

Not only did she send me this lovely book, but she also sent me a mindfulness and lifestyle journal and planner for teachers. I really appreciated the touching notes and some useful exercises.

I’ve already jotted down some notes on the vison board page.

The story itself is well written. It traces the story of Zainub and Ahmed. Zainub’s father is on his death bed. He calls in a friend’s son (Ahmed) who is also a lawyer to sort out his affairs. Once all the paperwork is done , he asks an extra favour: can Ahmed please marry and take care of his daughter?

Ahmed, who is dealing with his own father/ guilt issues, agrees.

As you can imagine, this arranged marriage is not smooth sailing. Once Zainub moves in she is sent to another room while Ahmed comes to terms with what he has done.

Zainub is an inspiration, though. She keeps praying and giving him delicious food as well as assisting him with invaluable insights on his cases. In a sense she upholds the final poem in the book:

“Roses blossom, leaves are born,

with skillful watering of the thorns.”

By the end of the book they have found their way, not without drama. You’ll have to read the book to find out how that happens though.

This book is also entitled “A Muslim Romance” and you’ll find constant references to the faith that carries Zainub through her difficulties. I wasn’t familiar with all the terminology, but it didn’t detract from what overall is a very strong woman character torn between doing her duty, carrying out her father’s wishes and her own sense of self.

At the end of the book there is an extract from her next book “What’s meant to come,” and I can’t wait to read it. It deals with the death of a spouse, which I definitely can relate to.

Thank you, Waheeda, for giving me something to read through Valentine’s week and giving me a bit of hope again. 🙂 See, I took your advice. I stopped and I smelt the roses!

You can see her book and other items on her website here. Use the code SAMOMBLOGS and you can get 10% off.

Here’s my interview with her (link below) and after that you can read an extract.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CpW-TF-qPmE/

Here is an extract from the book:

Oxygen mask in hand, Uthman began, “I wanted to thank you,” he said in a slow and laboured voice. “You came instantly after I called, and I am very grateful for that. You helped me make the arrangements that I didn’t have the heart to ask Zainub to help me with.” He needed more oxygen before continuing. Ahmed looked up at the mention of Zainub, and intuitively wondered if she was what was weighing on Ultman’s mind.

“Now I have one last request,” he continued. “But before you answer, bear in mind that it is a dying man’s final wish. I am old and weak, and I may not be here to see this happen.” The words were left hanging in the air, anticipation running high.

Uthman cleared his throat, took a deep breath through the mask, and continued slowly, “My estate has been wound, with your good hands. My last arrangements have been made with your help, but I’m not sure if you realise that the most important part of my life has not yet been taken care of.” …”My daughter, Zainub.”

Ahmed’s jaw dropped open in surprise, his eyes widened. Surely Uthman was not suggesting he take care of Zainub?

…

“Yes, I know what I am asking… But I have little choice.” Uthman needed the oxygen more often now. “Please don’t be mistaken. This was not my intention when I called you here.” Ahmed nodded, thankful that that had been clarified. He searched his mind for the right words to use, to let him down gently. If the subject was marriage, he was sure he wanted no part of it. Not now, and certainly not like this. He couldn’t, could he? Of all the reasons to get married, this had to be the worst. After all, his parents hadn’t set a good example of a successful marriage.

Finally, Ahmed spoke, choosing his words carefully. “If nikah is what you are proposing..” he began slowly with a dry mouth, “My job keeps me very busy, away at all hours,” he explained. “I haven’t considered it yet for this sake.”

Uthman interjected quickly, “My daughter will not be a burden.” He watched Ahmed closely, his pleading eyes piercing through the young man. “Financially, she will be taken care of. You’ve made those arrangements yourself. All she needs is a place to stay, a family, a new home. The alternative would be.. unthinkable.” His eyes welled with tears, and he looked at Ahmed beseechingly. “I have observed you over the last two days; you are so much like your father. Since you arrived, I have been asking myself who would protect my daughter better than you, Haroon’s son.”

Ahmed straightened up at the mention of his father’s name; a name that suddenly had the power to influence his decision. He remembered now. It was for his father’s sake that he had agreed to meet Uthman in the first place. It was for his father that he had vowed to help settle the dying man friend’s affairs. Must it now also be for his father that he lifted this final burden off Uthman’s shoulders?

Ahmed leaned forward in his chair, hands clenched at his knees. His uncertain voice sounded foreign in his ears, “This is a big decision to make,” he began, “and again, the logical thing to do is to ask for some time to consider this, but…”

“I don’t have time-” … “You don’t have time,” they said in unison.

The two men sat in silence for a long while. The buzz of the oxygen tank seemed louder now, more expectant, as it too, were awaiting a response. The situation was dire. Uthman seemed to get more frail by the minute. Ahmed regarded him while he struggled to breathe and remembered that it was Uthman who took his father in when he was down, supported him through his challenges, and stood by him during his worst times. Would marrying Uthman’s daughter finally absolve Ahmed from the regret he felt for not being a good son when his father was alive? Would taking on this responsibility lift the weight of that burden from his shoulders? Would his father finally be proud of him?

The oxygen tank grew deafeningly louder and more intrusive, demanding that a decision be made soon. It seemed to warn them that time was running out because it too had tired of supporting Uthman’s life.

Ahmed forced himself to breathe deeply, to channel his scattered thoughts into a final decision and, as strange as it was, he knew what it was he had to do.

“I’ll do it,” he said slowly… “I’ll do it for my father.”

Want to read more? Get the book here.

You can also get it on Amazon here.

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