Continuation 

Abbah’s illness came as a blow to all of us. At first, it was just fatigue and occasional complaints of body aches. But as the weeks went by, his health deteriorated, and soon, the doctor’s diagnosis confirmed what we feared—it was a chronic condition that would require ongoing care. It was a casual evening at home, as we sat in the living room after dinner, Ummahaddressed us with her usual firmness

“This is not just my burden to carry. As a family, we must face this together. We need to support Abbah and each other through this.”

Salim, always the practical one, nodded. “I’ll handle the hospital appointments and make sure the medications are on schedule.”

“I’ll take care of seeing that the family’s business does not flatter in such ties,” Ubeid added. “I’ve already started made some calls to several of his business partners.”

“And I’ll stay with Ummah,” I said, determined to help in any way I could.

Abbah’s illness tested our strength and unity, but it also brought us closer. Late at night, I would sit with Ummah as she recited long duas, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Amira,” she said one night, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “this is a test from Allah. We must remain patient and show our faith.” I nodded, holding her hand tightly. “InshaAllah, Ummah. We’ll get through this together.”

Despite the challenges, there were moments of light. Abbah, ever the optimist, would crack jokes to lift our spirits, even from his hospital bed.

“Don’t you dare start crying, Mama,” he said to me one day, his voice weak but teasing. “I’m not going anywhere yet. You still need me to scold your future husband, don’t you?”

I laughed through my tears, his words a reminder of the resilience that defined our family. Slowly but surely, Abbah’shealth began to stabilize, and with each small victory, our faith in Allah’s mercy grew stronger. And with time, Abbah’s health became better.