CHAPTER 12 (continued)

Posted: June 9, 2014 in Uncategorized

transformation definition

 

Yusuf and the children arrived with a burst of excitement. They seemed to have had a nasheed competition in the car. Yusuf loves to hear the children sing Islamic sings and during long trips makes a mock competition, something the children take pretty seriously. Bilaal enters singing loudly the ‘Sweet Madinah’ song with Jameela chorusing. I come to meet them and give them a hug before they are both racing upstairs. Yusuf follows behind them smiling and shaking his head at their performance.

“Assalamu Alaikum” I greet and turn back towards the kitchen.

A few minutes later I hear footsteps in the kitchen behind me. It’s Yusuf and he sits down. I ignore him and continue cutting the vegetables for the kachoomber.

“Elizabeth!” I scream trying to channel my anxiety in the scream. I don’t hear a response and then I scream again. The second time I get a distant response and a few minutes pass until she walks into the kitchen.

“Elizabeth, I told you Daddi and Dadda are coming today, please, you better get done quickly. Go and set the table outside, I put everything there already” I said impatiently.

“Then when you are done, go upstairs and make sure everything is neat”.

When she leaves I realize Yusuf is still there, when I look over at him I notice he is uncomfortable. I decide to go upstairs and check on the children. I walk quickly pass him and as I do, he grabs hold of my wrist to stop me. It works. When I turn around his expression has changed completely. He looks serious and worried. He lets go of my wrist.

“Hasina, I think I know what is bothering you. Please, I can explain. It’s not what you think”

I don’t respond. He has been too vague.

“The other night”, he continues, “I didn’t tell you everything” he says.

This is it… I think. “Ok so what didn’t you tell me?” I ask surprisingly calm.

“I didn’t go to see Moosa” he said regretfully. “You didn’t?” I asked surprised at my own strength and composure. “No,  I went to ….Westpark” The word hung in the air like an elephant. Westpark is notoriously known as a drug hub. What is he telling me? Shit this can’t be true. Everything I prayed for. I was hoping against hope. My inner chachima is tapping each cheek with the tip of her fingers chanting ‘tawbah, tawbah’. The seconds that pass, feel like minutes as I tried to process this information.

I was about to respond when I  hear the doorbell ring and Elizabeth goes to answer.

“They here”, Yusuf says as I hear my Mother in laws voice.

“We will talk later,” Yusuf promises lifting his hand up like a traffic attendant directing the flow of my anxiety. “Trust me Hasina” is his last words as he gets up to greet his mother.

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