married at 16: Scars that bloomed into strength.

episode 2 "The fall, the call, the consequences"

Halima's POV

"Zahra! Zahraa! What are you still doing in the room at this hour? Jamila's waiting!"

I stormed toward Zahra's room, ready to scold her. I reached for the door unlocked, of course and pushed it open.

No one.

The room was empty.

As I turned to leave, I noticed the window... wide open. I stepped closer and peeked through what I saw made my heart skip a beat.

"Blooood!" I screamed, exaggerating the scene in panic.
"Honey! Honey!" I called, running to get my husband. I was afraid he wouldn't take me seriously, so I rushed straight to him.

We met in the corridor.

"Baeb, what's wrong? Why are you shouting like that?" he asked.

I didn't let him finish. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to Zahra's window.

"Look! Blood!" I pointed. He froze.

"I wonder who got injured this early... but I'm sure it's just a bruise. Do you know anything?" he asked.

"No idea. Maybe we should check the camera footage," I suggested.

"Good idea. Smart I didn't even think of that," he said.

We rushed to the living room to check the security footageand we couldn't believe what we saw.

Guess who?
My so called daughterZahra trying to escape from my punishment... by jumping through the window!

I sometimes wonder if that girl even has a brain.

"What in the world!!!" her dad exclaimed.
"She's gone too far this time! We need to act and now!"

"Calm down, sweetie," I said gently.
"No matter what happens, she's still our daughter. Let me handle this. When she returns, we'll talk as a family, okay?"

He stared at me for a second, then nodded and left.

I felt his pain... but at the end of the day, she's still our child.

I picked up my phone and called the school.

"As-salaamu alaikum, Mr. Kah. I'm the mother of Zahra bint Abdullah, Grade 10 Arts. May I speak with her, please?"

"Wa alaikum salaam, Mrs. Halima," he replied.
"Please call back in two minutes. I'll contact her teacher and check."

"Okay, thank you," I said and ended the call.

After two minutes, I called again.

"Mrs. Halima, Zahra hasn't arrived at school yet," he said.

That was it. My patience snapped.

I dressed up quickly, grabbed the car keys, and drove straight to the school.

When I arrived, I went straight to the principal's office. As I entered, I overheard a familiar voice Mrs. Faal.

"She's changed a lot, Mr. Kah. As her teacher, I honestly don't know what to do anymore," she complained.

"Alright, let's do this," Mr. Kah responded.
"Check her book today. If she hasn't done the work, she'll go to detention."

Mrs. Faal agreed and turned to leave. We bumped into each other at the doorway. We just exchanged a quick look nothing else and she left.

"Well, who do we have here?" Mr. Kah smiled.

"As-salaamu alaikum, Mr. Kah. How are you?"

"Wa alaikum salaam. I'm good, Alhamdulillah. Please have a seat."

I sat down as he continued.

"Your daughter arrived just a few minutes ago. I was about to call you to discuss her behavior, but since you're here, even better. Zahra hasn't done any of her assignments this week and she hasn't given any reason."

"What? Please tell me this isn't true!"

"I'm afraid it is. And worse, if she doesn't submit today's assignment, she'll either go to detention... or face a one-week suspension."

I was speechless.

I hissed quietly under my breath. Just then cling cling! The bell rang for first period.

I picked up the principal's office phone and called Mrs. Faal. She passed the phone to Zahra.

Before I could even say a word, I heard her crying. My heart broke but I knew I had to stand firm.

"Zahra, I'm in your school. Come to the principal's office now. And let me not call you again, because if I do it will be a different case!"

I said it loud, not caring who was listening. Let her feel it.

Four minutes later, she knocked on the door.

I opened it... and frowned.

Zahra's POV

I sat quietly in the principal's office, frozen.
My mom and Mr. Kah talked for about twenty minutes. I kept staring at the floor, thinking about what punishment was coming my way.

I was scared.

But something surprising happened. Her anger seemed to fade a little.

She turned to me and said gently, "Zahra, what happened? Tell me the truth I already know everything."

I broke down completely.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Please forgive me. I promise, I'll change. I'll try my best," I said through tears.

She sighed, then simply said, "Okay."
And left.

I was shocked.
I ran after her.

Before she could drive off, I caught up.

"Mom!" I cried out.

She looked back, smiled softly, and stopped.

I opened the car door and hugged her tightly.

And to my surprise she hugged me back.

"Zahra, we'll talk at home. Get in. We have to go."

"Okay, Mom."
I climbed in, turned on the A/C, and switched the radio on to calm my nerves.

Guess what?
Mufti Menk was on my favorite scholar talking about the virtue of patience.
The timing was perfect. I felt so much peace after listening.

When we got home, Mom sat me down and gave me heartfelt advice. I listened carefully and promised to take it seriously.

"Don't be scared, I'm here with you," she said as we got out of the car.

Cling cling cling! I rang the doorbell. Dad opened it.
We greeted him but he didn't even look at me. He turned and walked away.

I froze. That hurt more than anything.

I grabbed Mom's hand tightly and walked in.

"He's disappointed, Zahra. Go to your room. I'll talk to him later," she said.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered with a small smile.

I ran to my room, shut the door, put in my earpiece, and played Qur'an.

It was beautiful. Peaceful. I don't remember the last time I fell asleep like that.

"Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar..."

My Fajr alarm went off. I woke up, recited my dua:

"Alhamdulillahil-ladhī aḥyānā ba'da mā amātanā wa ilayhin-nushūr."

I performed ablution, returned to my room, prayed, and made a few personal duas.

After prayer, I sat quietly until I heard a knock at the door.

I opened it...

And there he was my father standing in front of me.

He looked straight into my eyes.

I almost choked for no reason at all.

Khaddija bint Uthman (Haddy Nyang) ✍
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