One month had passed. Mehmal was working tirelessly day and night. Emer visited once a week to check on her, still convinced she should leave, doubting her ability to handle the project.
Mehmal observed Emer as he sat in the camp with the people, eating simple food on a rug as if he were one of them. The children were happy to have any food at all. Emer's aid was a blessing to these people.
While conducting interviews with some locals, Mehmal was deeply moved by their sorrowful stories. She took a break and sat on a chair, listening to the discussions around her about Emer's words. She glanced at the people, pondering their future.
"Is this a life?" she thought.
"If he didn't bring aid from Turkey and various NGOs worldwide, what would happen?" Nadia said, clearly admiring Emer.
"You're very impressed with him, aren't you?" Mehmal asked. Nadia nodded. "My fiancé died in airstrikes. My father and brother died during the invasion. Emer provided me with a job, and now I can take care of my sister and mother," she said. Mehmal felt sorry for Nadia. Her perception of Nadia had changed over time.
"You know, before I met you, I had very pessimistic opinions about hijab. A few months ago, a hijabi woman took everything from me. I found myself with nothing compared to her. I thought men would always choose these women, who hide their true intentions behind a façade. Men love women like me for my body, but they want a wife to be pious, who covers herself, a housewife who meets their needs and gives them all her attention," Mehmal confessed. Nadia smiled.
"Clothing doesn't define purity. I don't know that woman, but if someone chose based on appearance and personality traits they found lacking in their wife, I pity that man. Look at Erica and her crew," Nadia pointed out. "She doesn't wear hijab and isn't Muslim, but she's eating with us and helping us. Do you think her clothes define her purity? To me, she's purer at heart than any woman with a modest dress but an evil heart. And Thomas, he teaches these kids in his free time, even though it's not his job. Why? He's non-Muslim but better than many Muslims. Allah resides here," Nadia pointed to her heart. "If someone breaks my heart, how will they find Allah?" she added.
"We live here like family. We feel each other's pain. We have no complexes. Our faith is stronger than anything else. We know Allah loves us. We don't need anything else. WE DON'T BEG," Nadia said. Mehmal's eyes widened, her skin paled, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
"What did you say?" Mehmal asked. Nadia, busy with something, looked at her again. "What?"
"DON'T BEG," Mehmal repeated.
"Yes, beg only from Allah, not from anyone else. Only Allah will hear you, not humans. You will never return empty-handed. If you tell Him you love Him, He'll love you back."
"Zaryab, I love you," Mehmal had once said. In return, he had chuckled, caressing her cheek. "I know," he replied, never reciprocating the feeling. She still thought it was better that Zaryab never responded. How much worse it would have been if he had pretended to care just to spare her feelings, only to still go through with everything. That would have made her feel even more betrayed and hurt. He loved that woman. He said he fell for her.
"We beg Him, and He helps us," Nadia added.
"Zaryab, please don't do this." In response, he yelled, raising his hand threateningly. Mehmal wiped her tears, her heart heavy with sorrow.
Mehmal understood that if she turned to Allah, He would never send her back empty-handed or insult her as Zaryab did.
"Thank you," Mehmal said. Nadia looked at her and smiled, "No, thank you for coming here," she replied.
YOU ARE READING
Mehmal
Romance"I'm taking another wife." Mehmal's heart shattere. Zaryab insisted that he still loved her and that he would treat them both equally. However, Mehmal was adamant: "I don't want this," she replied. Zaryab, holding both of her hands, insisted that h...
