Hidden Wounds

She met him at work,
She knew about his religion,
That didn’t concern.

Got to know each other fast,
Not long until they took the Nikah contract,
The Shahada was first,
Little did she know,
It couldn’t be reversed.

He treated her like a princess before,
If only she’d have known what was in store.

She wanted to please,
Try as she might she couldn’t conceive.

A woman who bears children
Is my right,
I am taking another wife.

She couldn’t comprehend,
Didn’t want to complain,
But over time her jealousy she couldn’t contain.

Look this for you,
I should not need to explain.
Men are in charge of women,
I provide for you,
That is the condition.
I have enough wealth,
You and my other wives are my tilth,
I will take my due,
Two,
Three,
Or maybe four.
You being worth half of me,
That is my reward.
These are the terms,
Be disobedient,
The Angels,
On you they will curse.

Can’t we just go back to the way it was?

No!
This is not for us to choose,
This is from god.
From this day forth,
Don’t go to work,
Put this on and don’t answer the door.

He threw over the Niqab –
From this day, you ask to go outside,
Your chaperone will be Fyad.

What if I want to go to the shops,
Or the mosque?

Women are better at home,
You follow the rules,
OR,
You pay the cost.

This is not what we planned…
No!
No!
No!
Please I don’t understand!

He grabbed her hair –
Please…
Please…
Let Go!

It was then –
He struck the first blow,
He didn’t stop there
He ripped at her clothes,
Then,
He took his rightful share.

Afterwards she wept,
Nobody knew the depth,
About the cuts and bruises,
They thought she was OK,
They just assumed,
But under the veil,
They couldn’t see,
Her hidden wounds

© Islamic Blueprint-JA Statham 2017

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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