By proxy

Intro: The Odd Twins

About twenty years ago, in a smallish town just beneath the great Casablanca, was a woman who could breastfeed no more. Her baby boy was barely a few weeks old and she could not in any good conscience resolve herself to feed him formula, in fact her eldest , who was ten at the time , would harass her about the unmatched benefits of a mother's natural milk and its importance for optimal brain development .

However, almost half a day went in which during the poor thing starved to the point of vomiting very much clear baby bile with rare bits of the last of his mother's milk. Lalla Latifa, for that was her name, did not think twice after this incident and rushed to the closest convenient store.

While browsing for the right product, the woman was shaking because she will have to give her son lower quality sustenance, and also because he hasn't had anything since his light dawn meal and she just couldn't decide. All of the different brands and varieties of formula laid out on the shelves in front of her seemed completely inedible. Could it be that Amine, the little neurologist wannabe, had brainwashed her in some way?

Latifa felt as if the entire room was spinning around her and almost felt like fainting when a hand tapped her shoulder. It was Sara her landlady, her cart was filled with baby food, wipes, diapers, milk, toothpaste, sliced rye bread and of course cheese. Since that trip to Italy she had made when she was younger, Sara Nablousi became fond of European cheese, but of course who isn't?

- 'What are you doing here?' The Land Lady asked. The formula aisle was the last place she expected to find her old friend and neighbour who would never such as look at a food product that had more than five ingredients or so.

Latifa didn't know what to say, Sara didn't exactly expect an answer, at least not a verbal one for Latifa broke down in tears, covering her face with her hands as some women stood there and watched. Sara took her away from those impudent gazes and told her to wait while she paid for her cartful of groceries, spoiler: it took a little while.

When they got back at Sara's, she served her guest a bririd d'atay along with some pastries, a little girl cooing next to them.

- 'Why didn't you tell me about this?' Sara began.

- 'I just couldn't bring myself to', Latifa said as her host handed her a cup of atay, the heaps of mint made her feel welcome, 'I mean you don't just knock on people's door and ask for their milk! At least not the kind I'm in need of.' They both laughed.

- 'No but seriously, I have too much of it already, I'd be more than happy to give you some, actually our fridge is full of maternal milk. It will go bad anyway, there is no way Mona finishes all of that on her own.'

Sara got up and opened the fridge, there were twenty some bottles of milk all labelled "MM"for Maternal Milk.

- „TbarkeLlah"

- "And this, is just from today."

And just like that, a child was fed, an old friendship revived and a new one would begin very soon. Some exciting adventures awaited the odd twins of Sidi Moussa. The reason behind the name? None in particular. I, the narrator of this story, just think it makes for an exquisite oxymoron. The events I'm about to tell you, however, for the most part, aren't.