
Her Students Put Muzz on Her Phone as a Prank. Then This Happened 👀
A Muzz Couple Story — Atlanta ↔ Chicago
Everybody’s got a take on the apps. “They don’t work.” “Nobody’s serious.” “I’d never.”Amira Thomas had that take too. For five years.Here’s the thing though – she didn’t even download Muzz herself. Her students stole her phone and put it on there as a prank. (Never underestimate a MIST team.)A singer-songwriter and producer from Atlanta, Amira wasn’t exactly lacking. She coached her high school’s MIST team, led sister halaqahs, and came from a tight, creative, deeply involved family in the Atlanta Muslim community. Her life was full — mashallah full.
Why’d She Keep Deleting the App?For five years, Amira downloaded Muzz, deleted it, and downloaded it again. “The other times, it was more just confirming my bias,” she admits. Brothers weren’t putting effort into their profiles. The ones who did couldn’t hold a conversation past salams. She’d get frustrated, then land back at peace: she had friendship, family, community — and faith that the rest was in Allah’s timing.But two things shifted. A real conversation with her mom — about self-esteem, about not actually putting herself out there. And her career: she didn’t want to be on the road as a singer and still not have found her person. “I’ve got everything I want, and no one to share it with.”So she made a list. Emotionally available. Serious but goofy. Passionate. Wealthy didn’t make the list.Then one night, watching Mad About You, she thought: I want to be in love. And downloaded Muzz one more time.
Meanwhile, in Chicago…Suleiman Thomas’s road to that same moment was longer — and rougher.Born and raised in Chicago in a first-generation Muslim family, Suleiman was a D1 soccer player headed pro. Recruited to a boarding school at fourteen. Lived away from home through high school and college. Trained across the country and in Europe. “You never think you’re not going to make it. You’ve always been in the small percentages.”Then he broke his foot — right before the flight to join a professional team.The years after forced a reckoning. Who was he without soccer? He’d spent his whole life in the grind, no time for internships, no plan B. A marriage ended in the same stretch. “Both the divorce and the end of my career happened over a short period of time. I really had to do some soul searching.”His dad gave him exactly one month to mope. His boys tried to cheer him up — “not helpful at all.” But one friend did something that actually was: he put Suleiman on Muzz.Because here’s the reality for a lot of first-gen Muslim families: there’s no auntie network. No long list of rishtas waiting. “Muzz is critical for people who don’t have traditional Muslim communities in their families,” Suleiman says. “How else would we have connected?”He gave it six months. Then went quiet — app still installed, just untouched.
One Email. That’s All It Took.A month into his hiatus: Amira liked your profile.He could see her face and her city, and that was it. He reactivated, set his filters to Atlanta, and — instead of paying to unlock the match — swiped for a full hour until he found her again. (Respect the hustle.)Then he sent the first message: “Salams — I’ve been off the app for a while and saw your notification via email and had to reach out.”Amira was on the treadmill when it came through. She lowered her incline to reply, then moved to the weight room so she could keep typing. Why had she swiped on him in the first place? His profile had an intro video — and his smile, plus a slightly awkward laugh, caught her. His was the last profile she saw before getting off the app for good. “I knew immediately it was him.”Plot twist: her age filter should’ve hidden him completely. Qadr is not playing about the details.Their first phone call lasted five hours. They haven’t stopped talking since.
After the Talking Stage… Then What?The similarities got almost eerie. Birthdays one day apart. Same favorite donut flavors. Same approach to disagreements. Both had voice-noted friends breaking down Love Is Blind.Two weeks in, they were talking marriage. At one month, Amira said “I love you” first — technically. On the morning of her mom’s birthday, mid-Mean Girls discussion, she slid in: “make fetch happen for sure — ily.” He caught it immediately. He’d been circling it too — “I have a HUGE crush on you” texts and paragraph-long messages that said everything except the actual words.But talking is one thing. Doing it right is another.Amira’s dad is the gatekeeper, and she was terrified to tell him. Her mom spent a month strategizing — then one day, when he happened to start talking about the value of family, she seized it: “NOW. NOW.”
His questions came fast — Where did he come from? How long has this been going on? — but under all of it was one thing: making sure Amira ended up with someone who valued her as much as he did.
From there, both families did it properly, adapted for distance. Her mom spoke with his mom. Her dad with his dad. And since Atlanta and Chicago are 700 miles apart, their chaperoned dates happened online — parents in the room. “They wanted to give us our space. They just wanted to be around.”The families clicked instantly. Even coming from different traditions — he’s from a Sufi background, she’s Sunni — there was zero conflict. The hardest part came after: Amira leaving Atlanta. “Everyone was sad. My dad was heartbroken.” She’s been back five times already — and Suleiman, deeply emotionally intuitive, has helped carry the weight of that transition.
So What Does It Look Like Now?Mornings in Chicago: Suleiman heads out early to drive a school bus for special-needs kids. Amira makes breakfast. They watch something light and hyper-analyze it together — she calls him her anchor. Fridays are for the mosque; weekends he plays soccer while she works on her music. Sometimes he makes up songs about her and just starts dancing. There’s a lot of play, a standing arm-wrestling rivalry, and a genuine competition over who can out-nice the other.“We both have a lot going on,” Suleiman says. “So we’re intentional about making space for each other.”Watch our instagram feature here: https://www.instagram.com/p/DZ0KAeHygef/
Still Searching? Read This Twice.Amira: “There are billions of people — you only need one. Allah is still preparing them for you. Maybe your person is going through a transition period right now. Say Alhamdulillah, and know your person is out there.”Suleiman: “There’s no fast-forward to marriage. The only lose condition is marrying the wrong person — and everything we’ve been prescribed as Muslims is designed to avoid that. Do what you can in your control, and leave the rest to Allah.”
Amira and Suleiman met on Muzz. Your person might be one notification away.














