Qurbani

Qurbani

Safiyyah was in her mid twenties when the life-altering, tragic, unforeseen event took place. It wasn’t so much the actual event that was so impactful, it was what happened afterwards that hit a nerve and struck a chord, to put it mildly. The sacrifice, she and her partner had planned, was a disaster, to say the least. And Safiyyah had no way of knowing that she would end up sacrificing who she was, what she stood for, what she believed, and what she deemed moral and immoral based on her- internal angel on one shoulder, devil on the other- conscience.

Safiyyah had just recently taken Shahada the islamic pillar of declaring ones faith. Although raised in a Muslim household, it is not until a person makes this declaration of faith that they have truly converted to Islam. It was a warm day in May when Safiyyah had said, with conviction: Ash-hadu an lā ilāha illallāh, wa ash-hadu anna muḥammadan rasūlullāh. Which, translated from Arabic to English is: “I bear witness that there is no deity except Allah, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah.” Safiyyah’s mother, Latifah, was overjoyed witnessing those sacred, monumental words coming out of her daughter’s mouth. They had celebrated with a feast of lamb, dance and music, and delicious sweet treats.

Safiyyah woke up the next morning feeling no different than she had the day prior. As she made Wudu, (the Islamic ritual of washing specific parts of the body with water to achieve physical and spiritual purity) before Fajir, the dawn prayer, it simply felt the way it had always felt. She remembers graduating College, turning 18, then turning 21 and recalls that she hadn’t felt different during those milestones either. “Maybe, that is life or maybe I am somehow numb to excitement. Either way, I’m content. And, that is what’s most important,” she says to herself before performing Salah, genuflecting and reciting a prayer. A prayer she said in Arabic, a language she didn’t understand. Safiyyah was American. Her father, born in Nigeria, was raised a Christian. Her mother, a first generation Mexican-American, was raised Catholic and was of Jewish heritage.

It was her mother, Latifah, who had converted to Islam in her mid twenties. Latifah had taken Shahada around the same age that Safiyyah had done so. Neither woman wore a head scarf or a hijab out in public, nor did they follow the cultural customs of Muslim’s from around the world. They read the Quran, and they practiced the "Five Pillars” of Islam. Both having taken Shahada, both performing Salah (the five daily prayers), both observing Zakat, the obligatory charity prescribed by their religion, as well as participating in Sawn, fasting during Ramadan. The fifth pillar, Hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca, they hoped to achieve one day when circumstances and finances permitted.

Safiyyah, intelligent- gifted, even- possessed a sound intellect. She had both book and street smarts, having grown-up in “bad neighborhoods” which Safiyyah knew was synonymous with impoverished neighborhoods. Furthermore, she had a good heart, good instincts, good intuition, and had been practicing critical thinking since she was a young child. She used to annoy Latifah with her constant queries of “Why?” When patient, Latifah would explain, the best she could, the “Why?” of things. When distracted, tired, or impatient she would simply retort, “Because I said so!” Which infuriated Safiyyah, for she understood that wasn’t an evidence-based, fact-based, explanation or reason. No, she called it for what it was: laziness. She began reading at a very early age. From that point on she rarely asked her mother “Why?” for she found she could find the answer to that question in the many books she borrowed from the library.

With all that said, it was only natural that Safiyyah questioned Islam, as well as her faith. Her faith was significantly solid, for she believed that there was only one god and she interpreted Allah to mean, simply, an omnipotent higher power. She read the Quran like it was poetry- which, it basically was- not taking the words literarily but using them as allegories and parables from which to extract morals, values, and the “right” and “wrongs” from. That being said, she couldn’t find any flaws in Islam which in Arabic means “Surrender to the will of God.” Where things got murky and uncomfortable was how she saw practicing Muslims as well leaders, seemingly always men, using the scripture to control, demean, and treat women as less-than.

Luckily, fortunately, Safiyyah had met a man that viewed their religion incredibly similarly, if not identically, to she. They fell in love quickly. Which often times can be a bad thing, but in their case, they were both extremely practical, level-headed, rational and did not let their romantic union prevent them from their ambitions. Safiyyah was studying to receive her doctorates in nursing from a very famous, very prestigious University which specialized in the medical fields. Where her boyfriend, Jamal, was constantly networking, attending events, and meeting with influential people to help him with his goal of opening a Muslim nightclub. One might think, don’t Muslims just attend regular clubs, why do they need their own? Well, modesty as well as the restriction on consuming alcohol were two things Jamal planned to address in his club. Predominately, he was hoping to create a space for young people who shared the same faith to meet, connect, and form relationships.

That being said, let us return to the beginning, back to the life-altering event previously mentioned, shall we?

It was a week after Safiyyah had taken Shahada that Jamal proposed to her. Dressed in a nice suit and tie- his usual attire but fancier- he got down on one knee, then said softly, with tears causing him to choke up, “Safiyyah my darling, my love, will you please agree to grace me with your beauty, your presence, your steadfast heart, with all its love, and be by my side for the rest of our lives as my wife?” Safiyyah, surprised, smiled as she whispered, “Yes, Jamal, yes my love, absolutely, without hesitation.” Tears running down Jamal’s cheeks his shaky hands, with some degree of difficulty, slid the gorgeous ring onto Safiyyah’s ring finger on her left hand, then arose from his knee and embraced his future bride tightly. Safiyyah noticed that she hadn’t felt a surge of joy or a rush of love come over her while Jamal was proposing. She was happy that he had, just a little sad and concerned why she didn’t feel the way she imagined one should feel after being proposed to.

Jamal asked Safiyyah what she would like to do to celebrate. “Anything, anything, your heart desires sweetheart.” Without thinking, without a pause Safiyyah blurted out, “Let’s perform Qurbani!” Jamal, face scrunched up, appeared confused and taken aback for a moment. Noticing his expression Safiyyah hurriedly said, “It will be our offering, an act of worship for the One and Only, The Most High, who put us in each other’s lives.” Jamal’s face softened as he said, “Yes. Yes, we will absolutely do Qurbani, my love.” Qurbani was Arabic for “offering” or “sacrifice” it refers to the ritual slaughter of a livestock animal (such as a sheep or a goat). After the slaughter of the animal, the meat is distributed equally in three parts. One for family, one for friend, and one to be donated to the poor and vulnerable.

The problem was, neither Safiyyah nor Jamal had ever done this. Therefore having no clue as where to start. The logistics such as: where to procure the animal, how exactly to slaughter it, where to slaughter it, and how to remove the meat from its dead body, were all unknowns, merely unanswerable questions for the couple.

Eventually, Safiyyah decided upon purchasing a goat from a local farm on the outskirts of town. She purchased a large, sharp, heavy knife. As well as gloves, a blue tarp, three multiple gallon bags to store the meat, and a mini electric saw for removing the meat. The newly engaged couple waited until it was a full moon, which, to them, felt appropriate. They set up the tarp on top of a concrete slab out in the wilderness, tied the goat to a stake in the ground, said a prayer, then a little drama ensued. Safiyyah handed Jamal the knife saying, “Here you go my love.” To which Jamal, disgusted, pushed the knife back towards Safiyyah exclaiming, “I cannot do this. You were counting on me to slaughter this goat? This goat we’ve been living with as if it were our pet for weeks? I despise saying no to you, darling, but I cannot do that.” Safiyyah’s expression didn’t change, she didn’t say a word, she took the knife and slit the goats throat in one fluid motion, fulfilling the sacrifice part of the endeavor. Jamal, looked at his fiancé’s expressionless face, save for a hint of elation in her eyes and her lips, appalled and aghast as he realized in that instance, right then and there, that he could no longer marry a woman who was capable of killing a living creature with such ease. Jamal decided that he could not spend the rest of his life with a callous, coldblooded murderer. As Safiyyah was starting to rev the miniature electric saw to remove the meat, Jamal told her exactly what he had realized. He apologized profusely, unceremoniously removed the engagement ring from Safiyyah’s left hand ring finger, muttered some excuse or reason, then hastily left. Safiyyah was wondering why she had not felt anything when Jamal broke off their engagement and left so hurriedly, but why she felt peace, joy, pleasure, and a sense of power and control when she slaughtered the goat. It had been her first experience with killing something living, her first taste of blood. She loved it. Safiyyah, still keeping up appearances at school, in her community, and at home with her mother, began her serial killer career a week after the Qurbani. Finally, she could feel something. The only problem was the feelings were fleeting which required her to kill more and more victims.

Up until this day she has never been detected, suspected, or arrested for any crime. Including murder. She strikes on a full moon. So next time you’re walking late at night, by yourself, under the light of a full moon, be careful. Take note of your surroundings. Watch out for any movement. Listen for the sound of dainty footsteps approaching. For Safiyyah is always prowling for her next victim, her next sacrifice.