CAMPUS LIFE AS A MUSLIMAH

Chapter One (A Mother’s Hope) I grew up in a small house in the heart of southern Nigeria. Our home wasn’t perfect, but it was filled with warmth. My father was a hardworking man who did odd jobs to keep food on the table, while my mother ran a small provision store by the roadside. We didn’t have much, but they made sure we had the basics. There were days when the sound of rain dripping through our leaking roof was louder than the sound of our laughter, but even then, my parents never let our struggles define us. From as far back as I can remember, my mother was the voice that guided my life. She was a strong woman — not because life was easy, but because she faced every difficulty with faith and determination. Many nights, I watched her return from the market exhausted, yet still manage to cook dinner, help us with our homework, and pray late into the night. There was a particular evening I can never forget. I was about ten. Rain had fallen heavily that day, and the streets were flooded. My mother had gone to the market to restock her goods. Hours passed, and she didn’t return. I stood by the window, worried, until I saw her approaching in the dark, drenched from head to toe. She had carried a heavy sack of provisions on her head through the rain, refusing to take a bike because she wanted to save every naira. That night, when I asked why she went through so much, she smiled tiredly and said, “Haleemah, if I don’t fight today, how will I give you a better tomorrow?” Her words never left me. As I grew older, her advice grew firmer. She constantly reminded me to respect myself, to walk with dignity, and to hold on to my values. She would say, “A girl child must learn to behave with wisdom. Respect your elders, speak with grace, and guard your name. Once respect is lost, it’s not easy to regain.” Then came the joyful day I gained admission into the university. The whole house buzzed with excitement. My father couldn’t stop smiling, and my siblings jumped around, chanting, “Our sister is going to university!” For me, it was a dream come true a chance to make my family proud and build a future beyond our little house. The morning I was leaving home was bright but emotional. My boxes were neatly packed, my father was outside loading the car, and my siblings hovered around, touching my bags as if they were going with me. My mother called me into her room. She sat on the edge of her bed, her scarf tied neatly, and motioned for me to sit beside her. She held both my hands, her eyes moist but her face firm. “Haleemah,” she began softly, “you’re about to enter a new world. University life is not like home. It’s a place that can either make or break a person. The kind of decisions you make there will shape your destiny. I won’t be there to constantly remind you, so I need you to carry my words in your heart.” She took a deep breath, then continued. “First, never forget your Salah. Prayer is your shield, your light, and your connection to Allah. No matter how busy school gets, no matter how tired you are, pray. When everyone else forgets God, don’t you forget. Salah will keep your heart clean and your steps steady when temptation comes.” She squeezed my hands gently. “Secondly, remember who you are. You’re not just any girl. You were raised with values, with respect. Do not let peer pressure or the desire to ‘belong’ make you lose your identity. You will meet people who do all kinds of things partying, drinking, chasing after men for money. Some will make sin look beautiful, but beauty without morality is emptiness. Choose your friends carefully. Walk with people who fear God and have direction. If you follow the wrong crowd, you may lose yourself before you even realize it.” “Thirdly, and most importantly, guard your dignity like your life depends on it because it truly does,” she said, her eyes locking with mine. “Haleemah, this world will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine. Out there, people will dress sin in beautiful clothes, and they will tell you there is nothing wrong with certain things. Men will come with sweet words and enticing promises money, phones, expensive clothes, trips, and things you may have never seen before. Some girls will accept it and tell you, ‘That’s just how life works now.’ But my daughter, listen to me carefully not everything that glitters is gold.” She leaned closer, her voice firm but filled with love. “When a girl gives away her body in exchange for money or comfort, she may think she is gaining something, but in reality, she is losing far more than she can see. She is giving away her self-worth, her peace of mind, and sometimes even her destiny. Once a name is stained, it’s not easy to wash it clean. Poverty is not a curse, Haleemah, but losing your values is. I would rather see you eating garri with pride than living in luxury with shame.” Her grip on my hands tightened as her voice trembled with emotion. “You know how many nights I have stayed awake, praying for your future? You know how many sacrifices your father and I have made to give you the chance we never had? There were nights I came home from the market with aching legs, and still knelt down to pray that you would grow up to be a woman of honour. I have carried heavy loads under the rain just to make sure you had books to read and clothes to wear. All I ask, my daughter, is that you don’t let those sacrifices go in vain.” She paused for a moment, fighting back her own tears. “There will be times you will feel lonely. Times you will be broke, tired, or desperate. Those are the moments the devil whispers the loudest. He will tell you, ‘Just do it once, nobody will know.’ But remember this face. Remember this house. Remember how much we love you and believe in you. No amount of money can buy back your dignity once it’s sold. Stand firm, even when it’s hard.” Her voice softened again, almost like a gentle prayer. “When you feel weak, turn to Allah. When you feel confused, pray. When temptation comes, remember who you are. Remember the values we raised you with. Don’t ever let desperation make you forget your worth. Education and good character will take you further than quick money ever will.” She lifted my chin gently so I’d meet her gaze. “And Haleemah, always respect your elders. Greet people with humility. Be kind. Be the girl whose presence reminds people of goodness, not the one who follows the crowd blindly. University life will offer you freedom, but not every kind of freedom is good. Hold onto your faith tightly it will be your shield when no one else is watching.” By now, tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably. She pulled me into her arms, held me tightly, and whispered heartfelt prayers into my ears prayers for protection, guidance, wisdom, and strength. Her embrace was warm, but her words carried a weight I would not fully understand until much later...