BELONGING - BOOK 1

01. The Upgrade

HADIZA

Ahh, the softness of Mama's prized Persian rug beneath me, a treasure from Aunt Maya, handmade in Iran with intricate designs, fine materials, and exceptional craftsmanship. No one else in our neighborhood dared to own such a masterpiece. As I lay there, I felt a mix of trepidation and freedom, like I was floating on a cloud of uncertainty.

But my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the lie I told earlier. A lie I'd never dared to utter to my parents. My school wasn't a school at all, but a toxic playground where condescending people and bullies roamed free. Like Mrs Garba, our head mistress, who thought she was above reproach. She expelled me for standing up to our coach, Miss Evelyn and calling her out for her racism. I know, I know, the word is harsh, but trust me, it's not enough for someone like her. She stripped me of my captaincy for no reason, just because of the patches on my skin - my vitiligo.

Mama's voice snapped me back to reality. "Are you sure today's a public holiday?" she asked, sipping her hot kunu from the coffee table, her hands moving deftly as she knitted something I couldn't quite make out. She was seated on her favorite brown leather sofa, wearing her usual morning outfit - a big shirt, wrapper draped around her chest, and a silk scarf covering her head.

I felt a pang of fear and trepidation creeping up my heart as I sat up, clutching the remote control like a lifeline. "Yes, Mama," I said firmly, trying to sound convincing.

The aroma of kunu wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of wool from Mama's knitting. The soft hum of the TV provided a comforting background noise, but my mind was racing. Would Mama find out about my lie? Would she be disappointed in me? The questions swirled in my head like a vortex, making my stomach twist with anxiety.

Mama's piercing gaze made me squirm as she added, "But you just resumed last week, and this can't be midterm break." Her large, beautiful eyes, fringed with thick lashes, narrowed slightly as she scrutinized me. I couldn't help but think she was the most stunning woman I'd ever laid eyes on - her fair skin, like alabaster, glowing in the soft light of the room, and her long, luscious hair, which my older sister, Anty Halima, had inherited. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, before responding again.

"Yes, but they said some teachers aren't available, making it tough to learn," I explained, trying to sound convincing. "You know it's a public school," I reminded her, emphasizing the difference between my community girls' school and Braithwaite Academy, where my sister Hanifa had snagged a scholarship. Hanifa, the epitome of beauty and brains, was the belle of the three sisters.

As I pretended to change the channel from MBC Bollywood to MBC 2, the opening scenes of Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 1 flickered on the screen. I'd seen the movie before, but never made it to the end, since this part always seemed to be playing. I watched, but not really, my mind elsewhere, as I twiddled my feet on the soft, plush rug, feeling the gentle friction against my skin.

The room was cozy, filled with the comforting aroma of kunu and the soft hum of the TV. But my anxiety made me feel like I was suffocating, like the air was thickening around me. I glanced at Mama, who was still knitting, her fingers moving deftly, her eyes fixed on me with a mix of concern and suspicion. I knew I had to keep up the charade, but it was getting harder by the minute.

The truth was a ticking time bomb, waiting to unleash its fury upon me. Head Mistress Aisha's words still echoed in my mind: "Bring your parents to school." But how could I? My parents, the formidable Mr. and Mrs. Bello, were the embodiment of discipline and principle. My father, a tall, naturally athletic man with a chiseled physique and piercing gaze, was a force to be reckoned with. His principles were set in stone, and breaking them would come at a steep price.