Love Life is a Zikoko weekly series about love, relationships, situationships, entanglements and everything in between.
When Gaffar* (35) and Memunah* (28) joined the welfare unit at NASFAT mosque in 2023, neither expected their bond to grow beyond mosque duties. One spirited exco meeting later, they were inseparable.
On this week’s Love Life, they talk about falling for each other in the middle of service, navigating family expectations, and why they believe their story will break his family’s history of failed marriages.
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What’s your earliest memory of each other?
Gaffar: My earliest memories of Memunat are during Sunday prayers at NASFAT. I’d see her during asalatu, always with the same group of sisters and looking like she was solving one problem or another. We were both in the welfare unit, but we never really talked beyond “As-salamu alaykum” and the occasional nod. There were times we also exchanged words during exco meetings, but that was about it.
Memunah: It was the same for me. It’s hard to say the exact time I saw Gaffar. I just became familiar with his face as one of the male excos in the welfare unit. He also seemed reserved, focusing on the task assigned to him and never lingering for too long after work-related conversations. I didn’t think much of him at first, to be honest.
Right. So at what point did things change?
Memunah: There was an exco meeting in 2023, I think it was in June or July; I’m not sure. Gaffar got into an argument with another brother about how we were handling donations for a family in need. The other guy was accusing Gaffar of mismanaging funds, which was completely unfair because I was there when everything happened. I saw the receipts, and I knew the full story.
So I spoke up. I told everyone what actually happened; that Gaffar had followed the proper process, and that he’d even used his own money to cover a shortfall until we could sort it out. The room went quiet, and the other brother backed down.
Gaffar: I was so frustrated because this brother was making it seem like I was being careless with people’s money. And in a mosque setting, that’s a serious accusation.
When she stood up to my defence, I was surprised. For some reason, I didn’t expect anyone to defend me, especially not her. After the meeting, I went up to her and said thank you. That was the first real and lengthy conversation we ever had, and the rest is history.
Curious, what did you talk about?
Memunah: Everything. We stood outside the mosque and talked for almost an hour. About the meeting, about how draining exco politics can be in a religious setting, about our lives outside of NASFAT. It felt so natural.
Gaffar: I remember thinking, “Where has this person been?” She was easy to talk to — not the image of her I’d always had in my head. For some reason, I thought she wasn’t friendly with anyone else outside her friend group.
After that day, we started looking forward to Sundays. We’d finish our duties and then just hang around. Sometimes we’d go get food at the bukka nearby. Those conversations became the best part of my week. I’d find myself thinking about what I wanted to tell her, what I wanted to ask her. It was obvious something was building between us.
Sweet. But when did you realise it was starting to become more than a friendship?
Memunah: For me, it was maybe two months in. We were talking about family one Sunday, and he mentioned that his dad had passed when he was younger. He was so honest and vulnerable about it that hone I felt this pull toward him. Like I wanted to be there for him, and I’d not felt that way about anyone in a long while. But I kept my feelings to myself.
Gaffar: I think I knew earlier than that. There was one Sunday when she was sick and couldn’t make it to the mosque. d I felt so off the entire day. I realised I wasn’t just coming to NASFAT for worship anymore. I was coming to see her.
When I found out she was sick, I sent her a get-well-soon package and told her to call if she needed anything. I realised that I cared about her and might actually want to pursue a relationship with her.
So when did you make it official?
Gaffar: March 2024. We’d been dancing around it for months, but I finally told her how I felt. I said, “Memunah, I want us to take this seriously. I want to pursue something with you properly, with the intention of marriage.”
Memunah: I said yes immediately. By that point, I’d already been praying about him. I wanted to be sure, and everything in me said this was right.
Curious, did the people at your place of worship know you were together?
Memunah: No, we didn’t want it to become mosque gossip. People knew we were friendly, but they didn’t know we saw each other outside of Sundays. I think it was just easier that way. We could focus on building something solid without anyone watching and commenting or putting unnecessary pressure on us. When people date in the mosque, everyone automatically expects the relationship to lead to marriage.
Right. So what were the early days of the relationship like?
Gaffar: They were really good. My mum was particularly very happy about us. She’d always wanted me to settle down, so when I told her about Memunah, she was relieved. She even started asking when she could meet her properly.
So it was nice to have my family’s support at that early stage. She’d visit on occasion, and I’d watch her interact with my siblings with such ease. It felt really good.
Memunah: Everything he said. On my side, my dad was excited too. He was always telling me to find a good Muslim man, and when I described Gaffar — his character, his dedication to the mosque, his career and where we met — my dad was sold. My mum, not so much.
Oh. What was the issue with your mum?
Memunah: Well, she was cautious and felt like something wasn’t right—motherly instinct or something like that. At first, she just asked the usual questions about his background, his job, and his family. But then she started digging deeper. She asked about his parents’ marriage, and I told her his dad had passed away when he was young.
Then she asked if anyone else in his family was married, and I mentioned that his two aunts and uncles had all been divorced. That’s when her tone changed.
What did she say?
Memunah: She said it’s not a good sign. She started asking if I’d noticed any red flags, if Gaffar had commitment issues, if there was something spiritually wrong with his family. She kept saying there was no smoke without fire. I tried to explain that his dad didn’t leave; he died. That his aunts’ marriages ended for different reasons — one was in an abusive relationship, the other’s husband remarried without telling her. But she wouldn’t hear it.
I didn’t even know how to tell Gaffar.
Gaffar: When she did, I was so confused. I didn’t understand how my family’s situation had anything to do with us.
Curious, Memunah. What’s mum’s specific concern?
Memunah: She thinks there’s a pattern. She says it’s not normal for people in a family to struggle with a stable marriage. She’s worried that whatever “curse” or “bad luck” runs in his family will affect me too.
She also brought up his age, 35, and never married. She said most men are married by their early 30s, and if he’s not, something must be wrong with him.
Right. How does that make you feel, Gaffar?
Gaffar: Honestly? It hurts. I’m being judged for things I have no control over. My dad died in a car accident after secondary school. My mum raised my siblings and me alone, and she did an incredible job. My aunties left their marriages because they were being mistreated. My uncle’s wife left him because she wanted to relocate abroad, and he didn’t. None of these things has anything to do with me or my ability to be a good husband.
And I don’t think it’s uncommon to find a man in his mid-30s still unmarried. Have you seen the state of the economy? I’m not about to start a family without adequate planning. I spent my 20s building my career. I was working, studying, trying to establish myself. I didn’t meet the right person until Memunah. It’s not like I was avoiding marriage; it just hadn’t happened yet.
I’ve also been very intentional about not rushing into anything. I’ve seen what happens when people marry the wrong person. I wanted to be sure.
Fair enough. Memunah, do you share any of your mum’s concerns, though?
Memunah: I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it. Not because I believe in curses or anything like that, but because… what if she’s right? What if there’s something I’m not seeing?
But I think about who Gaffar is. How he treats me, how he treats his mum, how seriously he takes his faith. And I can’t reconcile that with someone who’s going to abandon me or fail as a husband. He often thinks I’m questioning him, but I’m not. I’m questioning the situation. There’s a difference.
Have you tried talking to Memunah’s mum directly, Gaffar?
Gaffar: I’ve asked to. I told Memunah I’d sit down with her mum and address every concern she has. But her mum said she needs more time to think and pray about it.
Memunah: My mum is very spiritual. She believes in signs, and right now, she thinks Gaffar’s family situation is a red flag. She keeps saying she wants to pray about it. And she’s also one to involve her religious fathers in our matter.
How long has this been going on?
Memunah: A few months now. It’s almost the end of the year now, and we’re still in the same place.
Sounds tough. What does your dad say, Memunah?
Memunah: My dad doesn’t think it’s an issue. He says every family has problems, and as long as Gaffar is a good man with good character, that’s what matters. He’s even told my mum to let it go, but she’s stubborn.
Gaffar: She wants the best for her daughter, and I respect that. But I think she’s forgetting I’m not my family’s history. I’m my own person.
Have you considered the next steps if she doesn’t come around?
Memunah: I don’t know. I’ve never gone against my parents on anything major. The idea of marrying someone without my mum’s blessing feels wrong. But the idea of losing Gaffar also feels wrong. So I’m caught in the middle right now.
Gaffar: I don’t even want to be the reason she’s estranged from her family. But I also don’t want to lose her.
Memunah: I’m hoping we find a resolution as soon as possible. But I also know that love isn’t always enough. Sometimes external factors — family, timing, circumstances — can break even the strongest relationships.
Rooting for you guys. What’s the best thing about being with each other?
Memunah: He makes me feel safe. I know that sounds simple, but it’s everything. He’s also religious, something I find comforting. Before Gaffar, I’d always met really good Christian guys, but I knew I couldn’t marry someone who practices a different religion. I’m glad I found someone like him.
Gaffar: Memunah really gets me. And she chooses me in spite of everything that’s been going on.
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How would you rate your love life on a scale of 1-10?
Gaffar: Right now? An 8. We love each other, we’re committed, but this situation with her mum is weighing us down. I can’t fully enjoy what we have because I’m always worried about what’s going to happen, but I trust Allah for a peaceful way forward.
Memunah: I’d say 8 too. I’m happy when I’m with him, but the moment I step back into my house and face my mum, that happiness is clouded by guilt and confusion. I’d like this to pass so we can move to the next phase of our lives.
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.
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