BELONGING - BOOK 1

04. The General's Girl

HADIZA

Today was a whirlwind of emotions, a rollercoaster ride of feelings that left me breathless and bewildered. Hanifa's icy indifference still lingers, like a frosty chill that refuses to thaw. She asks Aunt Maya questions, and I respond, only to be met with a dismissive shrug and a haughty walkaway. It's like I'm invisible, a ghost hovering on the periphery of their lives.

But Aunt Maya, my rock, my confidante, swept me away to her workplace at the Statehouse Clinic, where she weaves her magic as a nutritionist. I watched, entranced, as she worked her wonders, her passion for her craft palpable and infectious.

And then, the pièce de résistance - a tour of my soon-to-be alma mater. The building rose before us, a majestic behemoth with a facade that seemed to touch the sky. Dormitories stretched out like sprawling limbs, and classrooms beckoned with promises of discovery and growth. I felt like a kid in a candy store, my senses on high alert as I drank in every detail.

Mrs. Harmony Michael, our guide and guru, welcomed us with a warm smile and a laid-back vibe that put me at ease. But then, she dropped the bombshell - I'd be tackling both science and art courses, a daunting task that made my head spin. The pressure to perform, to maintain that elusive GPA, threatened to overwhelm me.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there were moments of pure joy. Aunt Maya's camera captured my essence in the library, my fingers trailing over the spines of books like a lover's caress. And those dresses - oh, those stunning dresses she bought me! I felt like a princess, a belle of the ball, as I twirled in front of the mirror.

The serenity of prayer, the satisfaction of decluttering, and the thrill of rediscovering my wardrobe treasures. I had just finished praying Asr and was reveling in the organized chaos of my newly tidied closet. The long poles for hangers and designated folding spaces made me feel like a fashionista, and my blazer, oh my blazer! It hung majestically, its sleek lines and tailored fit making me weak in the knees. I couldn't stop admiring it, twirling around to catch every angle.

But, as fate would have it, my monthly nemesis arrived, uninvited and unwelcome. The first cringe around my waist was dismissed as stress, but the escalating pain soon had me writhing on the bed, a helpless, cramp-ridden mess. Aunt Maya, my guardian angel, swooped in with her trusty sidekicks - Ibuprofen (or Brufen, as she called it) and cranberry juice. The former, she assured me, was a magic bullet for cramps, bloating, and headaches, while the latter was a soothing balm for my frazzled nerves.

As I lay there, sipping the tart, slightly sweet juice, I felt like I was in a foreign land, far removed from the familiar discomforts of home. Aunt Maya's tender care was a far cry from my mother's dismissive yells and accusations of exaggeration. Here, I was pampered, coddled, and treated like a delicate flower. The sanitary pads and tampons (which, admittedly, intimidated me) were a thoughtful touch, even if I didn't know how to use the latter.

In that moment, surrounded by Aunt Maya's warmth and expertise, I felt like I was in a different world, one where periods weren't a curse, but a manageable, even surmountable, challenge. And for that, I was eternally grateful.

"Hey, couch potato! What's up?" Aunt Maya chimed, her voice a warm embrace as I emerged from my cozy blanket cocoon. The pain had vanished like magic, leaving me feeling surprisingly spry. My period days used to be a never-ending cycle of pain, mood swings, fatigue, cramps, bloating, headaches, and - you guessed it - more pain. But with Aunt Maya's TLC, I felt like a new person.

"I feel better, Masha Allah," I replied, my voice still husky from disuse, as I half-sat, half-lay on the pillow, basking in the warmth of the moment.

Aunt Maya beamed, her hips swaying playfully as she announced, "Go take a shower, I've found you a new friend! She's going to be your classmate." It was as if she was more invested in my social life than I was!