Umm Saʿd wanted to hear stories.

“Ask your aunt,” they said.

Her aunt—Nusaybah, may Allah be pleased with her—was an extraordinary woman. She had lived through it all. Fought in battles, stood between spears, at the very heart of combat, guarding the Prophet ﷺ with her life. What better source of life lessons than these stories wrapped in the sweetness of memory? And so, Bibi Nusaybah began to unwrap the honeyed layers of her tale.

The stage was Uhud. And the mothers of the believers were present. They carried water for the thirsty, tended to the wounded, and moved alongside the soldiers. “I set out early,” she recalled, “with a waterskin slung over my shoulder, walking through the morning mist to witness the condition of the battlefield. Everything was in our favor at first. I moved closer toward the Prophet ﷺ. He was among his companions.”

Then everything changed. The tide turned. The Quraysh launched a surprise assault, and many Muslims fell. The battlefield swirled into chaos. That’s when Umm Saʿd noticed a wound on Nusaybah’s shoulder.

“What happened here?” she asked.

“This?” she replied calmly. “This was from Uhud. A spearhead from Ibn Qumʾah pierced me here.”

Her voice didn’t tremble. Instead, she continued with quiet force.

“The enemies had surrounded the Prophet ﷺ. They cried out: ‘Show us Muhammad! If we get him, the rest will scatter!’ But we stood firm, forming a wall around him with our bodies. They charged toward him—I was struck too—but I would not retreat. I struck back with all I had. We gave everything. And by Allah’s grace… we prevailed.”

“He was pleased,” she said, her face softening. “He made duʿā for us. I stepped forward and asked, ‘Ya RasūlAllāh, will you ask Allah to grant me your companionship in Paradise?’” 

He lifted his blessed hands and prayed, ‘O Lord, make them my companions in Paradise.’

What fear could remain after that? Time marched on. Islam grew. New trials came. False prophets arose. One of them—Musaylimah the Liar—was especially dangerous. When the Prophet ﷺ sent him a letter inviting him to the truth, it was Nusaybah’s own daughter, Habībah, who carried the message. Musaylimah’s response? Brutal. He murdered Habībah in cold blood—tore her apart piece by piece.

Nusaybah held her grief. But she didn’t forget. In her heart, she etched a vow: One day, I will be there when Musaylimah falls. That day came. It was the Battle of Yamāmah. The commander was Khālid ibn al-Walīd (RA). Nusaybah stood alongside her son, ʿAbdullāh. The battle was fierce. Musaylimah, overconfident, believed victory was his. But Khālid fought with patience and strategy, slowly penetrating the enemy camp.

Eventually, the false prophet and his forces sought refuge within a fortress. One skilled companion breached the fortress wall, opening the path for the Muslim army. Nusaybah and her son entered with them. It was a ferocious fight. Every sword turned toward Musaylimah. At last, they reached him.

ʿAbdullāh—skilled in swordsmanship—struck him down. Wahshī, the lancer, drove his spear through him. The liar fell. The storm ended.

Alḥamdulillāh.

Years passed, but Nusaybah’s courage was never forgotten. During the caliphate of ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (RA), a fine shipment of woolen garments arrived in Madinah.

“Who shall receive these?” someone asked. 

“Should we gift a cloak to Ṣafiyyah, wife of ʿAbdullāh ibn ʿUmar?”

“No,” said ʿUmar. “There is one worthier.”

“Nusaybah,” he declared.

“The mother of believers at Uhud.”