It had been a boring Saturday for Mary so far, with little accomplished. It had been a busy week at her company, and she had spent nearly every moment of her time getting a new client for her firm. She had managed it, just about, so now was time to relax. It was about midday, and she lay there on the couch, a book in hand that she was happily reading. It was soft erotica, trash, yet enough to occupy her busy mind. She lay in yoga pants and a vest, her long blonde hair flowing over the couch. At the same time, the television, as usual, stood silent in the corner of the room: Mary rarely turned it on, finding more solace in the pages of her trash books than the flickering images of the screen. She had been lying like this for hours and had no intention of stopping anytime soon, that was until…

Dun-dun-dun-DUN!

This little jingle was the TV announcing itself as it switched on. The noise had always annoyed her, but Mary had never managed to deactivate it. After the fanfare came the sound of daytime television: vapid voices speaking nonsense. She sighed, put her book carefully down and turned her attention to the TV. She assumed the remote had been left underneath her, and she had managed to lie in such a way as to hit the power button. But the remote was on the other side of the room, just below the TV itself. She sighed again, pulled herself up from the couch and walked across the room to the television. She picked up the remote and jabbed at the power button. But nothing happened. She jabbed it again, even harder. And nothing happened again. She even resorted to pressing the power button on the back of the TV, but nothing changed. The television did not seem to be responding to anything. Fine! She thought, reaching over to the power outlet and yanking out the TV’s power cord.

But the television did not switch off. It continued to spout the daytime nonsense as though nothing had changed. Mary stared at the TV for a while, unsure what to make of it. Soon, though, something did change.

Click

With a distinct clicking sound, the TV switched channels. Gone was the sound of vapid nonsense, replaced by a pleasant silence. Gone was the daytime programming replaced by a dark green screen: so green that it caused a greenish glow to coat the room, even in the daylight. In the middle of the screen was a beautiful piece of Arabic calligraphy. What the fuck? Mary thought to herself as her eyes fixed on the writing. It was intricate and decorative, and she wished she could understand it. Or at least understand why her TV displayed it, seemingly without power. Suddenly, the television made some noise…

نويت أن أصلي لله تعالى

It was Arabic. Mary knew that much. And it was beautiful. As she heard it, she felt a sudden calmness fill her. She also felt a certain need… a need to pray. She wasn’t religious, but something about the beautiful Arabic made her want to pray to God. Before she knew what she was doing, she cleared space in front of the television. She then took a few steps back so she had about a four-foot span of free space between her and the TV. After which, she just stood there staring at the calligraphy, her mind calm and focused, ready to pray to God.

الله أكبر

Another Arabic message, as beautiful as the last, came from the TV. Mary heard the words resonate through her, and for a moment, she just stood there, serene from a message in a language she did not understand. However, a desire to move in a certain way grew within her. She raised her hands, her palms facing forwards, and raised them to her ears. Her lips opened, and the words Allahu Akbar came out with perfect pronunciation. After which, her hands went to her chest. As she did all this, her yoga pants started to grow looser as the material merged at the bottom. Her vest also began to merge into the yoga pants, growing material as it grew sleeves to cover her arms. She roughly knew what the words Allahu Akbar meant, but she had never said it out loud before, and certainly never with such sincere purpose. It felt good to praise God.

أقرأ سورة الفاتحة

These Arabic words once again resonated through Mary’s head, and she felt her dedication to God growing. She started to think about her life up to this point. She didn’t need to think about much to feel shame. Just today was enough: wearing such revealing clothing while reading dirty books. Her mouth opened and she declared: subhanak-allahumma wa bihamdika, wa tabaarak-asmuka, wa ta-‘aala jadduka, wa la ilaaha ghayruk. As she did so, she understood she was praising God and declaring him the only God. Meanwhile, her clothing continued to change. Her yoga pants had become almost unrecognizable as they had ballooned into something much more like a skirt, the previously tight and elastic material becoming silk. The same change had occurred to her vest, which had become the same material, merging into the skirt so that the two were forming a loose dress, the material spreading rapidly down her arms to cover everything but her hands. Meanwhile, her skin darkened as black strands appeared at the root of her blonde hair. She then declared Auudhu bi-llahi min ash-Shaytanir rajeem bismi-llahir rahmaani raheem: begging God for protection from Satan. A tear then went down her cheek as she then said ameen. She wondered how this had been the first time she had prayed in her life and felt so much shame by this fact.

سبحان ربي العظيم

With these words, Mary bowed down, placing her hands on her knees with her back straight. Once again, she said Allahu Akbar, but this time, she felt the power of these words deep within her, as God was indeed the greatest. How had she ignored this fact for so long? She then said: subhana rabbiy-al-adheem, and she knew what it meant. It meant glory be to my Lord, the Great. As she bowed, the material of her dress spread up her neck. It was soon covering her head tightly, leaving only her face visible. The material then separated from her dress, becoming a separate piece. It was her first ever hijab. Meanwhile, her skin continued to darken as the blonde of her hair retreated for black. Even her eyes, previously blue, began to darken.

سمع الله لمن حمده

Mary then stood fully straight again and said, sami‘-allahu liman hamidah, meaning Allah heard the one who praised Him and then said, rabbana lakal hamd, which meant o our Lord, all praise belongs to You. She felt shame. So much shame. How dare she pray? How dare she, after the life of sin that she had led. She had had sex with many men and was still not married. She had tried hard to work in the world of business when her place was raising a family at her husband’s side. Her hair had now become entirely black, her eyes wholly brown, and her skin thoroughly tanned. Her features changed slightly, her eyes and nose reforming somewhat to something more… Arab? And how could she not want to be Arab? Like the Prophet himself!

سبحان ربي الأعلى

Allahu Akbar, she said now, never saying something with more sincerity before in her life. She allowed herself to go down into prostration. Her forehead, nose, palms of her hands, knees and toes pointed forward as they touched the floor. She had never been in such a vulnerable position before, but she knew she was always this vulnerable to God… Allah. And Allah’s mercy needed her to submit to Him this way. She now looked entirely the part of an Arab and started to think about her name. She didn’t want to be Mary anymore… She didn’t want any part of her old life anymore. Subhaana rabbiy-al-a’laa, she said three times, proclaiming glory to Allah. And as she did so, she thought of her new name. She quickly decided on Madiha, a name meaning praise. Praise she now had for her Lord, Allah.

اللهم اغفر لي

Madiha then sat up whilst saying Allahu Akbar. She then rested the palms of your hands on her knees. She leant on their left hip, pointing both feet’ toes to her right side. She then continued to pray, knowing precisely what to do. Even though the TV then switched off. Madiha was ready for a better life. One of submission. Submission to Allah and submission to her future husband. She thought about the blessing that Allah had now brought her: to make her an Arab and a Muslim. What a blessing she had received. Her old blonde-hair, blue-eye self came into view momentarily, and Madiha forced it away. She had been blessed to be so much more and knew she had lots to do to make her new life right. She would find a husband. She would quit her job. She would have lots of kids. She would start right away! Well, at least once she finished her prayers.