The Valentine fever is everywhere ... flowers and red hearts adorn shop windows as tokens of emotions to be bought. Is romance, though, the only face of love? Al-Ahram Weekly peeks into the love craze Of love and other angels Forget roses and heart-shaped chocolates: Nashwa Abdel-Tawab unveils an altogether graver face of Valentine's All across the globe, February is the month of romance. And 14 February -- Valentine's Day -- is marked by the exchange of gifts in the name of the tradition's patron saint, regardless of religious affiliation. In Egypt, the tradition has been intensively around for a decade or so: the day finds gift shops and lovers swathed in red; if you forget to mark it, it is taboo. Over the years it has also been commercialised, with newspapers and university campuses catching on -- red everywhere. But meeting Fatima Koukieva in such "hot-fevered" circumstances proved there could be more to love than romance, or a passionate kiss. Love -- in all its manifestations: of family, friends and, notably, of God -- has the power to change not only a casual arrangement but the very depths of one's being. Fatima had found love and happiness not in a rose but in sharing her life with someone, and upholding values of honesty, respect and giving to God -- she made a happy family, what Bernard Shaw called "an earlier heaven". It seemed a much worthier incarnation of St Valentine... Fatima came from Chechnya to Egypt on an exchange programme -- one of 30 students, male and female, in December 1994, only a week before the Russian attack on Groznyy, where she had lived with her family. Her father put her name down because he sensed the danger: "he felt that war was about to break out, and he wanted to ensure his family would be protected. He sent my younger brother and sister to Russia on exchange programmes for children, and sent me here to study law, to be an independent woman and get rich one day." He himself became a refugee in a neighbouring country, the Ingush Republic, she recalls. She arrived in Alexandria aged 18, full of expectations: a car and a bank account. Things didn't turn out to be so easy: the war started, Groznyy was destroyed; it transpired that the exchange programme had been a fake; and the group's finances were dwindling: "we were in Alexandria for eight months, trying to find a solution -- in vain. The only available outlet was to enroll in an Islamic studies programme at Al-Azhar University." They had been Muslims "by tradition only", seldom abiding by the rules, but when Fatima joined Al-Azhar, she says, she eventually started to see the world differently. For LE20 a month, at least, she could live in the university hostel. Studying Islam was almost a nightmare, and she didn't take it seriously at first. Her African and Asian housemates were rather different, determined and devoted, however, and their good conduct -- sharing food with the group who could barely afford it; apologising after a quarrel; helping colleagues with their studies -- was to draw her attention to "this religion that unites us". Gradually she entered into the Islamic spirit, discovering another face of love: "driven by the desire to make my father proud of me, I studied English literature at Ain Shams University alongside Al-Azhar; I also earned a diploma in homeopathy from the Swiss Club. But none of it made me happy until I had a sense of purpose, and that was to please God." It was at this point that Fatima met her husband, Hamza, another Al-Azhar student -- a Chechen refugee from Ingush; she had never considered marrying him because he was a distant relation, and that goes against Chechen tradition; he was also too poor to be eligible in her parents' eyes: "Hamza helped everyone, he cared about every one of us and attended to our needs, he helped us with our studies. He has a beard and initially I suspected he might be an extremist but the more I got to know him the clearer it was that he was a man of vision and that we shared common goals." In Ingush, where they reunited with their families to get married, Fatima's parents said no -- but she defied them. "Nothing stopped us," she recalls, "because we were doing nothing wrong. Nothing could have. When you find your soul mate, it is not just a matter of love; it's a complete integration -- to lead a better life together, seek out the same goals, instead of doing it alone or sticking with your parents, with whom you are likely to differ after you've grown up." For Fatima, Egypt is a special place -- where she was cheated on but found refuge in a time of war. Here she learned that happiness lies not in socialising or "falling in love" but rather in honesty, a shared goal -- and devotion. She came to know and practise Islam not as a religion or religious affiliation but as a way of life. Here, too, she met her husband, gave birth to two children, Mariam and Mohamed; and their love of God brought them closer to each other than any worldly attachment. Hamza has now finished his studies and is in the Ingush Republic building a home for the family; they have great hope: "Our president, Zyazikov Murat Magometovich, has handled major problems like refugees, terrorist attacks and complicated economic situation with courage and wisdom since being elected in 2002. With such a tolerant policy, we can safely go back to Ingush." At the moment they are saving every penny they can spare to buy books with which to establish an Islamic library and a mosque -- a dream that unites them: that is their passion, and those are the tokens they exchange on Valentine's -- a greater, enduring love.
