The Saint

This part of the story is based on true-life events.

As you know, I have been writing about my football life, like how I started playing football, how I got training by the Saudis, Syrians and Egyptians. Here is something that happened to me,

Now here I am writing something about my religion. I am Muslim by faith, and as a Muslim, you must finish reading The Holy Quran in Arabic, as well as understand the translation. So my father hired a Quran teacher, again with out letting me know, but my entire family knew about him.

I asked my father when he is going to come because I have my league football games on those days. My father said ok, but this person is very nice and noble, so treat him and try to learn what he teaches you. As soon as my father told me he was a noble and bla bla, it occurred to me that he might be a strict person.

As soon as I thought about him, I requested my father to teach me the Holy Quran. And then he can interpret. My father replied negatively. He told me Now this person is really young. has learned the Holy Quran by heart. My father had a strong stance for that Scholarly Saint. I tried everything to convince him but……

I tried. Discussing this with my younger sister. With my teammates. But even they were unable to help and advised me that he is your dad. After all, you can speak Arabic fluently, so you have to read the Quran or recite it. So, I became happy, and all my teammates assured me that I would never lose my place.

So that day came when that (middle-aged man in his forties) entered my home. He had dark circles in his eyes, with a big bear and a shrewd smile on his face, and was in conversation with my father, and I entered the living room, and I said “Asalam o Alaikum. "

Which we usually do, and everyone replied.

I sat far from both, and my father introduced me to him. “His name is Mohsin, and he is……., as father wanted to say further, he started to speak out loud, “Subhaan Allah.”

We panicked and asked him, “What has happened?”, It is a beautiful name. It’s in the QURAN and has been mentioned a number of times.

I never told him that I had full command of Arabic. I didn’t like him at all, and he looked like a psychopath with a shrewd smile, which I will not forget for the rest of my life.

My first session was ok. He came and left, but I tried to sit in front of him. He told me that his name is Maallik but I should address me as Maalik Sir.

Why Maalik Sir, have you been knighted by the Queen (Late Queen Elizabeth), and he was staring because he understood nothing about it, and it went over his head. He smiled and came very close to me and said something in his native language that was hardly understandable.

So, finally, the day came, and he was right on time. In the first hour, he taught my sister and gave some advice on reading the Quran and its translation. So she left us. So he called with a loud voice, “Hey you, Wanna read the Quran? Come and sit here (on his left).” I sat on his ft and started reciting the Quran. For a minute, I thought that somebody was staring at me.

Of course, it was him. Then he called me by my name and said Come here, boy! Your Arabic is very good, and he then grabbed my left hand, and all of a sudden my mother yelled from inside the house, "Oh, Mohsin, your teacher is still there." I have made a cake for. him, Mother, he is still here, and he tried to…………….. please give this sweet to him. But mother, she totally ignored me, he smiled in his own style and left.

OH God! What should I do? Please help me. . I tried to tell it to my sister and the entire family, but no use. All I have to do is bear that “Saint”. My next session was about to start, so I requested my sister to stay for me until he leaves. She said,” No way.” As she has to do lots of homework.

He came, and the so-called Religious Session started. I thought of making him friends because no one listened to me. So my turn came, I sat close to him and started to read.

He all of a sudden, from nowhere, pulled my shirt and plunged his hand inside my pants and started rubbing everything that came in his way. I started crying out loud, but he never stopped.

I yelled and cried for help, but nobody was at home.

As he leaned over me, I was completely confused and frightened, unsure of what was happening or what he intended to do. Suddenly, he attempted to get closer, but something inside me—a surge of strength from my football training—pushed me to react. I managed to shove him away and tried to get up, but he reached out, his hands on my shoulder, closing the distance between us once more.

In that moment, instinct took over. Remembering a move from football, I used my left foot and kicked him with all my might. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain and shouting. As he struggled to get up, I quickly moved closer, barefoot, and delivered another forceful strike to his thigh area. He was left nearly unconscious, and I finally felt a sense of elief as I realized I had defended myself.We used to live in a condo building. I put on my clothes and came out of my suite and ran towards Abdullah’s unit, (my football friend) and started banging his door and shouted “ أرجوك ساعدني، افتح الباب، أرجوك ساعدني، عبد الله MEANING

please help me, open the door, please help, ABDU LLAH. His youngest sister opened the door. They were sleeping, I think. Then I closed their door.

Then came Abdullah and his father, and I told them the entire story. His father became furious He called the Police first and went towards my suit. After three to four minutes, he came back to the house. On the way. He told me that The Police will ask you some questions. I will stay here until your family comes back.

They all came back and entered the building with long faces; the Police greeted them with a series of questions. But when the Police asked questions about The Saint and me and why they had left their only son with Satan, they tried to rape him. But your son never gave up. He told me everything

My mother yelled and said Rape, oh my God and hugged me, and we all went inside. The Saint was never found.

Many years passed, but that Saint was never caught. One day, one of my classmates told me that the school principal was calling me. So I went to his office, I thought that he might be inquiring about the Football matches starting next month.

As I knocked and entered the room and I heard two voices. One was the Principal and the other voice, OH God, I have heard this voice so many times, Wait, it's him,

THE SAINT!