BELONGING - BOOK 1

14. The Deal

HADIZA

I settled into the examination chair, adjusting my hijab as Aunt Maya gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. The soft fabric of my hijab brushed against my cheeks, providing a sense of comfort. Dr. Kola, the optometrist, greeted me with a warm smile, her bangs framing her round face. She reminded me of Dr. Bailey from Grey's Anatomy - confident and compassionate.

"Okay, Hadiza, let's take a look at your eyes," Dr. Kola said, her voice gentle as a summer breeze. Aunt Maya leaned back in her chair, observing with interest, her eyes sparkling with concern. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the coffee maker nearby, mingling with the antiseptic smell of the clinic, creating a peculiar yet soothing aroma.

Dr. Kola began the examination, shining a light into my eyes. I blinked, feeling a slight discomfort, like a tiny pinch. "Hmm...your distance vision looks good," Dr. Kola murmured, scribbling notes on her pad with a soft scratch. "But let's check your near vision." She handed me the phoropter, and I put it on, feeling the weight of the lenses, like wearing a new pair of glasses.

Aunt Maya's encouraging smile boosted my confidence, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can you read the smallest line for me?" Dr. Kola asked, her voice coaxing. I squinted, struggling to make out the letters, my eyes straining like I was trying to solve a puzzle. "I...I think it says 'cat'?" Dr. Kola nodded, her smile reassuring.

"That's correct! But I notice you're straining. You have a mild refractive error, causing blurry vision when reading or focusing on nearby objects." Aunt Maya asked, her voice laced with concern, "Is it due to excessive screen time or studying?" She had been worried about my excessive studying lately, and the truth was, I didn't even know what I was studying. I felt lost, like wandering through a maze without a map.

I needed a tutor, but Hassan was ignoring me, his silence deafening. He was showing me his other egotistic side, punishing me for wasting his time. Dr. Kola nodded thoughtfully. "Possibly, excessive screen time and studying can cause eye strain and refractive errors. Your eyes work harder to focus on digital screens and small print."

I felt relieved, understanding the cause. I had been worried for days that I might go blind. Words were becoming blurry, even on the whiteboard or in my textbook, following a headache that radiated down to my neck, like a dull ache.

Dr. Kola's words soothed my fears. "Don't worry, Hadiza. Your prescription will correct your near vision. You'll be reading like a pro in no time!" Her smile was contagious, spreading warmth through my chest. Aunt Maya squeezed my hand again, her eyes shining with relief.

Aunt Maya's brow furrowed with concern. "Hadiza's always buried in her books or glued to her phone. I worry about her eyes, Doctor." Dr. Kola's warm smile reassured her. "Don't worry, Maya. With reading glasses and some simple habits, Hadiza's eyes will adjust beautifully." She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Hadiza, remember the 20-20-20 rule: every 20 minutes, look away from your screen and focus on something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. It's a lifesaver for your eyes!"

I nodded, determination coursing through my veins. "I'll do it, Doctor." Dr. Kola's smile widened. "Great! And consider adjusting your screen's brightness and contrast, using good lighting, and taking breaks during study sessions. Your eyes will thank you."

Dr. Kola turned to Aunt Maya again, her voice filled with expertise. "She'll need reading glasses with +1.50 diopters for near vision correction." I felt a pang of surprise, my mind racing. Glasses? Really? I'd always seen people with glasses as, well, nerds. But now, I was about to join the club.

Aunt Maya squeezed my hand again, her touch warm and comforting. "Don't worry, dear. You'll rock those glasses!" In the dispensary, Aunt Maya and I browsed frames together, the soft glow of the display cases illuminating our faces. I tried on trendy cat-eye and minimalist designs, admiring myself in the mirror. The frames seemed to transform me, making me look older, wiser.