Iddie Mwanyali never planned to leave South Africa. The Malawian national had built a life there — work, love and children with Andiswa Dlamini. But their efforts to build a future together kept running into obstacles.
The first was lobola. When Iddie decided to marry Andiswa, her family asked for cows — something he simply could not afford.
“That thing is all about the lobola. They are asking for cows, so the cows are too expensive,” Andiswa says.
The second obstacle was fear. As a migrant without secure documentation, Iddie watched xenophobic attacks flare up around him and felt the threat moving closer.
“The xenophobia was attacking me too much,” he says.
They tried to do everything through the proper channels, applying for partner visas through Home Affairs and waiting for feedback that never came.
Eventually, Iddie made the painful decision to return home to Malawi. Andiswa refused to let him go alone.
“She said that if you want to go, then we have to go together because I can’t live without you,” he recalls.
What began as a painful departure became something neither of them expected — a homecoming of the heart. In Malawi, Andiswa found more than peace. She found Islam.
Her curiosity had started two years earlier, long before the move. Raised Christian, she found herself watching Muslims — the rhythm of their prayers, their modesty and their sense of calm — and feeling increasingly drawn to the faith.
“I loved that religion,” she says. Then she watched Iddie live it.
“I loved the way he was doing it, so I decided to convert to be a Muslim too.”
For Iddie, her Shahada changed everything. The nikah they had struggled to make possible in South Africa suddenly became achievable — and deeply meaningful.
“All of this that is happening is because of Allah,” he says, becoming emotional. “I didn’t expect that this day would come, and I didn’t expect that my wife would convert to be a Muslim.”
In Islam, marriage is more than a ceremony. It is a covenant built on tranquillity, love and mercy, and is often described as completing half of one’s faith.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ is reported to have said: “When a servant marries, he has completed half of his religion, so let him fear Allah regarding the remaining half.”
In Malawi, their imam guided them through the nikah process — no cows required and no Home Affairs queue.
Andiswa says Iddie’s family and village have embraced her wholeheartedly.
“They welcomed me nicely, and they show also respect,” she says. “Even the village, they are also nice people. They teach me everything. Even when I ask something that I don’t understand, they teach me.”
After years of uncertainty, she has found a sense of stillness and belonging.
“Here, it’s very quiet and it’s a peaceful country,” she says. “I enjoy so much to be here, and I’m really looking forward to staying more years here.”
Their story did not follow the script. It crossed borders and faiths, survived the pressures of unaffordable tradition and immigration limbo, and took them from South Africa to Malawi — and from partnership to nikah.
At its centre now is the faith Andiswa chose and the family they are finally able to build together.
