RUDIN SHAIDAN Complete Document Written By Shuraihu Usman


“Uztaz, Uztaz, Uztaz!” she screamed, trying to catch the attention of the people around her, her voice echoing in the air.

A beautiful young woman hurriedly walked towards someone standing in front of her, her face showing signs of distress, as if she was burdened by something significant that was affecting her life.

This young woman was certain that everything would be better if she could just talk to this person of God.

Sauri ran as fast as she could until she reached the man, not stopping for a moment as she kept calling his name, “Uztazz.”

At the same time, Mujahid was traveling on the road, engrossed in studying a religious book, when he suddenly heard his name being called.

He turned to see the caller, and there she was, a young woman rushing to reach him.

Upon looking at her, he sensed that she must be troubled, as if something was deeply bothering her.

But when she stood in front of him, she struggled to catch her breath, drenched in sweat from her hurried run.

“I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m trying to reach you in an intrusive manner. I apologize, Uztazz. I have some urgent matters I’d like to discuss. I hope I’m not troubling you,” the girl said as she stood before him.

“No worries, I’m here to listen,” Uztaz replied reassuringly. “My name is Rufaidah. I know you don’t know me; I am a student at Mu’azu bin Jabal school. I registered last week,” Rufaidah introduced herself.

Mujahid looked at her attentively and said, “Yes, Rufaidah, I’m listening. What do you wish to discuss with me? Is it something that can be spoken about standing here, or should we find a place to sit?”

“Uztaz, it would be better if we could find a place to sit and talk, as we have a lot to discuss. I won’t be able to leave anything out until I’ve shared everything,” Rufaidah said, tears streaming down her face.

Mujahid looked around and spotted a shadow at the door of a distant house, the roof offering some shade. “Let’s go there and talk,” he suggested.

“Yes,” Rufaidah agreed.

They moved to the shade of the house and sat down. Mujahid looked at Rufaidah and said, “Go ahead, Rufaidah. I am here to listen to you.”

Rufaidah, still teary-eyed, wiped her face with her cloth and began to share her story.

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