LIGHT FROM THE DESERT✓

||CHAPTER 2||

||SALIMA||

It's been about four weeks since my sister left. Our father feels like beating us to death. One, for supposedly not knowing where his precious fortune eloped to. Of course, my mom and I know but we can never tell him about it. He would do anything to get her back. Even if it means dragging her all the way from Nairobi to Marsabit. He declared that when he swore to hunt her down. That was just the day before yesterday. He was inquiring about her for what felt like the five hundredth time.

It didn't matter that our response would still be the same as the very first one we gave him the first night we spent without her. He's relentless. Perhaps still hopeful that she will return. It is sad and pathetic to see such a grown man, irresponsible too, subject his own flesh and blood to a life of fear. One that has forced her to leave the one place she can and has the right to call home.

Two, to get his rage out on us. He dreads the fact that he will not be getting the money he anticipated so much anytime soon. Just thinking about it turns him into a mad violent. He is even beating the animals so hard that they cry out in pain. I pity those innocent creatures. The only reason he is not letting it out on us is that he sees the grief in both my mother's and my eyes. It makes him think that we sincerely have lost her. That indeed we don't know where she disappeared to as well.

Every day we weep, sometimes in pretence, kneeling on the praying mat. He thinks we're praying to Allah to return my supposedly missing sister. Little does he know we are praying for her to get lucky in her search for better pastures. However, there are times I think he is watching and listening to us with keen interest. Other times I get a dreadful feeling like he knows that we connived against him.

That we indeed helped her run. I can only hope that that is not the case. Otherwise, he will surely kill us without second thoughts. Especially once he is sure and convinced about everything we are hiding. We want Zawadi to have a good if not the best life. Even if it is far away from us. Far away from home. It might be dearly paining us, but we shall endure. I can only hope, that in the end, things will work out for us too.

Hussein is back from Ethiopia. He left when I was thirteen. There was nothing I could do to stop him from leaving. He had to. He was my best friend since I can remember. My limelight too. He held my positive view of the darned male species. Simply, he was the only one who showed me that some men do have a bright side. It is not only darkness as my father has made us believe.

When he left, my heart shattered. As did my fragile positive view of the men. He was its stronghold. Its pillar. With his departure, it collapsed. My negative view of them took over. No man ever since has made an effort to prompt if not make me change my view towards them. Even if they did, I doubt it would be so easy. Well, not when my father has assured my mind, heart and soul, that only darkness can exist in a man.

Growing up, I used to think that he would never return. The thought always made me feel paralyzed by fear. The fear of it turning into something real. Truth be told, I always wished for his return. I always wanted to see him again. Now, he is back. I'm more than excited about it. Perhaps, exhilarated would fit perfectly. He came back on the very day my sister left for the city.  At night though. Such a fateful coincidence. At least my days, without Zawadi's presence, will not be as dark as I had initially anticipated.

He has grown. He is more man than boy now. Height wise, he's approximately six foot two. His body is scandalously masculine. It is not a wonder that I am seeing him as more than just a best friend. More like, an old best friend. His complexity is still the same. Brown chocolate. It matches mine. I've also grown. Back then I was just a thirteen-year-old at the onset of puberty. Now I'm seventeen. No longer girl-like but more lady-like. I'm five foot seven. Same height as Zawadi. Physically, I'm averagely curvy in all the right places.