Between My Tradition And My Dreams (On Going)

chapter 4..

After losing Inna, my heart felt empty, and I found myself slipping in and out of consciousness for days. Baba had used every last bit of money he had on my hospital bills and Inna's as well. When I returned home, everything felt different-quieter, heavier. Without Inna, who would stand by me in this village?

A month passed since her passing, and the weight of the loss still clung to us. One evening, as the sun began to set, Goggo sat beside Baba and gently suggested that he should consider remarrying. She thought it would be best for him to have someone by his side, someone who could help take care of him, of me, and even help around the house.

I tried to hold back my tears, but it felt like a storm inside me. "I don't see why he should marry again," I whispered to Goggo later, my voice trembling.

"Fatima," Goggo said softly, "life must go on, even when it feels impossible. Your baba will always care for you, and Inna's memory will never fade. But we all need support, someone to share the burdens."

The whole village seemed to talk about it, and eventually, Baba agreed. When I heard his decision, I felt something break inside me. That night, I cried my heart out, feeling like I was losing Inna all over again.

But through it all, Goggo was there, every step, her warm hand on mine. She whispered reminders of Inna's love and strength, promising that as long as she was there, I would never be alone.

"You have ten minutes remaining!" the invigilator's voice jolted me back to reality. I looked around and saw everyone scribbling furiously on their booklets. Today was our final exam, and a mixture of emotions filled me-excitement for finishing the year, but sadness as I wished I could run home to tell Inna that I'd soon be in SS3. But there was no Inna to go home to anymore.

I felt a tear drop onto my answer sheet, and I quickly wiped it away. Rakiya, sitting beside me, nudged me for answers, whispering, "Fatima, please! Help me out."

I forced a weak smile. "Number seven is B," I whispered back, but I just couldn't focus enough to keep helping. With a deep breath, I finished my work, stood up, and submitted it.

Outside the classroom, I found a quiet spot to sit and gather my thoughts, but they all circled back to one thing-Baba's decision to remarry.

As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, a junior student approached me. "The literature teacher is calling you," she said softly. I got up, my heart heavy, and made my way to her office.

The moment she saw me, she wrapped me in a warm hug. "Oh, Fatima," she said, her voice filled with kindness, "all these tears won't bring her back, my dear. I know it's painful, but remember, the best gift you can give her now is your prayers. That's all she needs from you, okay?"

She gently wiped away my tears, and I nodded, trying to hold myself together.

"You're such a strong girl," she continued. "One day, you'll be that amazing woman you dream of becoming. Keep that hope alive." She tried to lighten my mood with a gentle smile, and I managed to give her a small, sad smile in return.

She took a deep breath. "I also wanted to tell you... I've finished my service, Fatima. I'll be going back to the city soon."

My heart sank, and I felt a pang of loss all over again. "You're leaving?" I whispered, barely able to keep my voice steady.

She nodded, her eyes soft. "Yes, darling. I don't want to leave, but my time here has come to an end. But I know you'll keep chasing your dreams. Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll come to the city, and we'll meet again. Insha Allah."

"Insha Allah," I replied, feeling a tiny spark of hope.

She reached into her bag, pulled out a pen, and wrote down her number on a small piece of paper. Taking my hand gently, she placed the paper in my palm and closed my fingers around it. "Keep it safe with you, alright? Whenever you get a phone or find yourself in the city, call me. I'll always be here for you."