Our Friendship

10

It was break time, and the school compound was filled with the joyful sounds of students playing. Ummi and her only friend, Ahmad, sat quietly beneath the comforting shade of a mango tree, observing the laughter and cheer from a distance.

Ummi turned to Ahmad and spoke softly, "They seem so happy." Ahmad smirked and replied, "Yes, they are happy kids, pretending just like us." Ummi sighed and continued, her voice trembling with tears, "Yesterday, my dad beat me for the first time, and it's all because of her."

"What? He beat you?" Ahmad exclaimed, quickly covering his mouth with his palm. His loud voice caught the attention of the nearby children. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I knew this would happen. Didn't I tell you? Stepmoms can be wicked. They make them hate you over time."

Ummi's lips trembled as she whispered, "I never believed you before, but now I do. Seeing how my dad beat me yesterday, I hate them both."

Ahmad smirked sadly and replied, "You should thank God that your mom still loves you, and you have Amira. As for me, I have nobody. My stepmom is wicked, and my parents treat me as if I'm not their son. Nobody cares about me, except maybe you." His eyes filled with tears.

Ahmad was Ummi's classmate and her only friend. Though two years older than her, his parents had separated when he was six. His stepmom was cruel, and his father was carefree. His stepfather's animosity made his mother unwelcome during his visits, all to protect her new marriage.

Abu was eagerly anticipating the day ahead while also feeling a sense of happiness. She had stayed awake all night preparing her belongings, finally falling asleep just a few minutes before 4 AM. As the first rays of light touched the sky, she woke up early in the morning, before anyone else in the house. Today would be her first day at camp, and she was overjoyed at the thought of being away from home for a while.

Despite the cold morning, she began her day by washing the dishes. She swept the house and prepared breakfast, finishing everything before 6 AM. Once the household chores were complete, Zainab fetched water from their well for her bath. She carried the water to the toilets and returned to her room to gather her clothes.

As she approached the toilet, her younger brother Mahfux rushed out of his room and pushed her aside, blocking her way. She nodded silently and stood by, waiting for him to finish. She had assumed he would excuse himself quickly, but to her dismay, he began using her bathwater. He hadn't fetched it or carried the bucket inside. Exasperated, she muttered to herself, "I just can't take this anymore."

When Mahfux emerged from the bathroom, drying his head, she looked at him with anger, feeling an urge to strike him. She gasped and said, "Mahfux, how could you push me aside and use my water when you knew I was in a hurry?" Her voice was cold, and she clenched her fist.

He looked at her, smiled, and took a step away. Her anger reached its boiling point. She couldn't bear their constant disregard any longer. Without thinking, she grabbed him by the arm, saying, "What's all this nonsense? You used up my water, and instead of admitting your mistake, you smile at me? Am I mad or what?" Her voice was filled with fury.

Mahfux stared at her blankly and replied, "What's this all about?" Suddenly, he exploded, "I can't understand why you're bothering me. Just leave me alone; I have other things to do." He forcefully pushed her aside.

Shaking her head, Zainab had endured their nonsense for far too long. She couldn't take it anymore. She rushed after him and stopped him in his tracks. He glared at her disrespectfully, saying, "Move out of my way, Malama." Zainab narrowed her eyes at him and replied coldly, "I am older than you, and just because I never complain doesn't mean I can't do anything about it."

"So what if you can?" Mahfux raised his eyebrows defiantly. The anger inside Zainab reached its peak, and she couldn't help but slap him. He held his chin, seething with anger and shock. "Did you just slap me?" he shouted, slapping her back in return.

Their father rushed out from his room, intervening in the escalating conflict. "So you ended your marriage just to come here and cause trouble?" he admonished. Zainab's eyes filled with tears as she replied, "But I did nothing wrong. He is the one at fault."

"Why did you slap him then? Even though he's younger than you, he's an adult and not your son," Baba retorted. "Honestly, this isn't fair."

"Are you insulting me now?" Baba interrupted her. He delivered several slaps to her face and violently pushed her back. Abu fell onto her back, feeling the weight of her disgrace.

"And for your information, your wedding will be in the next two weeks. Wallahi, if you ever ask Malam Musa for a divorce, I won't forgive you, and you'll have to find another parent," he declared vehemently.

Zainab ran to her room, crying. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Today was the most shameful moment of her life. Despite the pain she felt, she couldn't shed a tear. She now understood why people say you only cry when your problems are minor. She believed it today, as the pain in her chest made her feel like her heart would burst.

She couldn't stop replaying the events in her mind, unable to see her own fault clearly. Her unhappiness deepened when she realized her father had beaten her without cause and had placed all the blame on her. To ease her burdened mind, she picked up a picture of Usman and gazed at it. Unbeknownst to her, tears streamed down her face. She loved him dearly, and she couldn't fathom how things had turned out this way for them.

She forgot about going to camp; she was consumed by depression. She remained indoors the entire day, doing nothing. Her appetite was nonexistent, as her thoughts revolved around her father's beating and her impending wedding to the old man in two weeks.