Measure Success [Hakim Ziyech]

Chapter Seven

Note: If you see this *~* and more than one word is written in italics that means you're reading a flashback.

Chapter 7

(Not) Worth Fighting For

*~*~*

2009

Berkane, Morocco

Souhaila Hayat was aware that she lived in a country where child labour was very much a thing and education wasn't as widely spread as it definitely should be. Hospitals weren't anywhere near well-equipped or well-staffed. Corruption was a real thing and life was very unfair to those who had less.

Souhaila knew. It was her life, after all.

Every single day.

Morocco, like its people, had many shortcomings.

Despite this, it was home. In good and bad times.

Always.

Like her little life, Morocco too had bad and good sides. And although, the bad might often outweigh the good that did change nothing about the fact that there were good times.

They made it worth fighting for.

Souhaila Hayat had this exact same outlook when it came to people.

*~*~*

Her day started with a not-so-gentle wake-up call in the form of raised voices, waking her up and ripping her out of a very lovely dream.

That should have been her first clue to the fact that something was wrong.

But being as it was, the shouting had become somewhat of a part of the Hayat household in the last two years. And as much as Souhaila loathed to admit it, she, in a way, had gotten used to it.

As much as you could get used to it, at least.

Therefore, her first thought went somewhere along the lines of it being far too early in the morning for this.

Just a lot less coherent.

Then, can't I sleep in once?

But, groggily, Souhaila managed to get up from her bed.

Just to realise that it was only one person that was shouting and Souhaila, of course, recognized the voice.

It was then that she realised that something must be wrong.

Very wrong.

Because Hafsa was shouting, not their mother as Souhaila had instinctively assumed.

Souhaila felt wide awake at once, discarding her thin blanket once and for all she stood and wasted no time in exiting her room with perked ears and an uncomfortable feeling in her gut.

Quickly, she reached the steps and descended them hastily to get to the first floor where their living room and the kitchen were. It was there that the family Hayat spent the most time together and unsurprisingly where all the noise was coming from.

"-How can you lose your child?!" It wasn't the harshness of Hafsa's voice that made Souhaila flinch but the words themselves.

They hit hard and cut deep.