…[she forced] monogamy upon her third husband, the grandson of the Caliph ‘Uthman Ibn ‘Affar. She even forbade him to approach another woman, including his own jawari, and did not allow him to go against the least of her desires. She divorced him among a great scandal when she caught him red-handed with none other than one of his ‘legitimate’ jawari […] She stipulated that he would have no right to another wife, that he could never prevent her from acting in accordance to her own will, that he would let her elect to live near her woman friend, Ummu Manshuz, and that he would never try to go against her desires. When the husband [Zayd] decided once to go against Sakina’s [may God be pleased with her!] will and went one weekend to his concubines, she took him to court, and in front of the Medina judge she shouted at him, ‘Look as much as you can at me today, because you will never see me again!’
Sakina was described by al-Zubairi, a historian who, like many others, was full of admiration for her, in these words: ‘She radiates like an ardent fire. Sakina was a delicate beauty, never veiled, who attended the Quraish Nobility Council. Poets gathered in her house. She was refined and playful. (page 83, 114–115)
She would have today been called a nashiz. The word existed then as well, but not in the same sense it exists today. Nashiz is now seen in “Islamic” law–outlined by insecure theologians forcing history to bend at their desperation–as a social problem, as a rebellious woman, a woman who knows and practices her true Islamic rights given to her by God than that which was stolen from her by men–a danger to the family structure.