In a modest home on the outskirts of a bustling town, there lived a family known to the neighborhood as quiet and unassuming. The husband, Hamid, was a man who, on the outside, appeared to be a devoted family man. However, within the walls of his home, a different story unfolded—a story of anger, dominance, and fear. His wife, Amina, was a gentle soul, known for her patience and kindness. She had always believed in the sanctity of marriage, in enduring the hardships and finding strength in her faith. Together, they had three young children, whose innocent laughter and playful antics were often silenced by the oppressive atmosphere that Hamid’s temper created.
One evening, after a long and exhausting day, Hamid returned home in an unusually foul mood. The burden of work, the frustrations of life, and the smallest of inconveniences had piled up within him like a ticking time bomb. As he entered the house, the tension in the air was palpable. The children, sensing their father’s mood, quickly quieted down, retreating into the corners of the living room, their playful smiles replaced by looks of fear and anxiety.
Amina, who had been preparing dinner in the kitchen, greeted her husband with her usual warm smile, hoping to ease whatever was troubling him. But tonight, Hamid was not in the mood for pleasantries. Without any provocation, he began to berate her, his voice rising with each word. The children watched with wide, frightened eyes as their father’s anger escalated.
Amina, used to his temper, tried to remain calm. She knew that speaking back would only make things worse. She kept her head down, focusing on her tasks, hoping that he would eventually tire of his outburst. But tonight, Hamid was relentless. His anger, unchecked and fueled by his own frustrations, reached a boiling point. In a moment of uncontrolled rage, he struck Amina across the face.
The force of the blow sent her reeling, but the pain in her heart was far greater than the physical pain. What hurt the most was not the slap itself, but the sight of her children—her precious, innocent children—watching their mother being hurt by the one who was supposed to protect them all.
The children began to cry, their small bodies shaking with fear. Their cries filled the room, echoing off the walls, piercing through Amina’s heart like a thousand needles. Tears welled up in her eyes, not from the pain of the slap, but from the sight of her terrified children. She could bear anything, but seeing her children in pain was unbearable.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, Amina looked up at her husband, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I’m crying because of the children. They are scared, Hamid. Look at them.”
For a brief moment, Hamid hesitated, as if her words had reached some distant, buried part of his conscience. But the moment passed, and his anger returned, fueled by his own guilt and frustration. Instead of showing remorse, he sneered at her, dismissing her plea.
“I will go and report you,” Amina said, her voice gaining a little strength as she wiped her tears.
Hamid laughed mockingly, “Who said I would let you leave this house? Do you think you can escape by locking the doors and closing the windows? Do you think you can stop me?”
Amina, despite the situation, felt a calmness settle over her. She had always been a woman of faith, and in that moment, she knew that her strength came not from herself, but from the One above. She looked at him, her eyes steady and unwavering, “Do you really think you’ve blocked all the doors and windows to prevent me from seeking justice?”
Her words were laced with a conviction that made Hamid pause. He had never seen this side of her before. He was taken aback, but his pride and anger wouldn’t let him back down.
“What are you going to do then?” he demanded, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
“I will make contact,” Amina replied, her tone resolute.
Hamid, thinking she meant she would try to call for help, scoffed, “All your phones are with me. Do whatever you want.”
But Amina didn’t flinch. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the bathroom. Hamid, still suspicious, thought she might be planning to escape through the window. He quickly ran outside and stood guard by the bathroom window, ready to stop her if she tried to flee.
Minutes passed, and there was no sign of her attempting to escape. Hamid, confused and increasingly anxious, returned inside and positioned himself by the bathroom door, waiting for her to come out.
When Amina finally emerged, she was calm and composed. Her face was wet from the water of ablution, and a serene smile played on her lips. It was a smile that held no malice, no anger—just peace.
She looked at Hamid, her eyes soft and compassionate. “I will only complain to the One whose name you swear by. Your locked windows, your barred doors, and even the confiscation of my phones cannot stop me. His doors are always open.”
Hamid stood there, stunned. Her words pierced through the haze of his anger, striking at the core of his being. He felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over him. Without a word, he turned away and slumped into a chair, lost in thought.
Amina, sensing that her words had finally reached him, quietly went to perform her prayer. She prayed with a deep sense of devotion, her heart pouring out to her Creator. She took her time in prostration, seeking solace and strength from the One who never closed His doors.
Hamid, still sitting in the chair, watched her silently. He had always known Amina was a pious woman, but he had never truly understood the depth of her faith until now. As he watched her pray, he felt something stir within him—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was a mix of guilt, remorse, and a deep longing for forgiveness.
When Amina finished her prayer, she raised her hands in supplication, her lips moving in silent prayer. Hamid couldn’t bear it any longer. He got up and walked over to her, gently taking her hands in his.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he whispered, “Aren’t the curses you’ve made against me in your prostration enough?”
Amina, her voice filled with sorrow, replied, “Do you really think that after all you’ve done, I would lower my hands so easily?”
Hamid’s voice trembled as he tried to explain, “I swear, it was my anger that made me do it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She looked at him with a softness that only a woman of great strength and faith could possess. “That’s why I can’t settle for just a few words of prayer. The curses were for the devil who incited your anger. I am not foolish enough to curse my husband and life partner.”
Hearing this, Hamid was overwhelmed with guilt and remorse. Tears flowed freely as he kissed her hands, his voice choked with emotion, “I promise you today, I will never lay a hand on you in anger again.”
The sincerity in his voice, the tears in his eyes, and the deep remorse in his heart touched Amina. She knew that this was a turning point for him, a moment where he had finally seen the error of his ways.
Hamid’s tears continued to fall as he clung to her hands, “I’m so sorry, Amina. I’ve wronged you so much. Please, forgive me.”
Amina, her heart filled with compassion, gently wiped away his tears. “I forgive you, Hamid. But remember, forgiveness is a gift. Don’t let this happen again.”
Hamid nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his own actions. He knew he had a long way to go to make amends, but he was determined to change.
Over the next few days, Hamid made a conscious effort to change his behavior. He sought forgiveness not only from Amina but also from his children, who had witnessed his anger for far too long. He spent more time with them, showing them the love and affection they had missed.
Amina, ever the supportive wife, stood by him as he worked on becoming a better husband and father. She knew that change wouldn’t happen overnight, but she had faith that with time, Hamid would become the man she always believed he could be.
Their home, once filled with tension and fear, slowly became a place of peace and love. The children’s laughter returned, filling the house with joy once more. And Amina, with her unwavering faith and strength, became the cornerstone of their family’s newfound happiness.
This is the story of a righteous wife, the one whom Allah and His Messenger have advised to treat with kindness and respect. It is a story of patience, forgiveness, and the power of faith. For in the end, it is the strength of a woman’s prayer, and her ability to forgive, that can change even the hardest of hearts.
May Allah bless us all with such virtuous partners and grant us the wisdom to cherish and respect them always.
