The troubles of life

Prologue

I never chose this life, this life chose me. I was 2 years old living with my momma and my baby brother. My deadbeat dad was a coward, ran away when he saw my mother pregnant faster than when he saw the immigration officers turn up to his work place. My brother Abdullah was just born and even at that age we knew our lives were tough, and that it was my duty to step in as the man of the house, maybe that's why I'm so cold when I meet new people. Come on, you cannot blame me for not trusting people that easily, and being so tough and protective after all I've been through.

Hi my name is jamal, I'm a Muslim boy living in London, I live with my mom Sarah, and my brother abdullah. We live in a council estate in West London. My brother is two years younger than me. I completely love, and adore both him and my mum loads! We grew up in a household which wasn't too religious, as my mother was Christian. We struggled a lot as we grew up because my mum found it hard to provide for us which led to her doing dodgy stuff to make money which I would prefer to not mention. When I am older i made a promise that i would give her nothing but the best, because when we grew up she tried to give us 'nothing but the best'.This is why I am really protective of her today. I can't bear to see her get hurt again.

I remember coming home with my mums friend everyday seeing my mum with a new man, or lying, almost dead on the cold, unwelcoming floor covered in alcohol. I used to sit down right next to her, pray for her, and cry sometimes because I thought she had died, but I knew I had to stay strong and tough to make sure my brother would always feel okay and not suspect anything going wrong. I didn't want to ruin his childhood as he didn't deserve it, what did he do wrong?
I remember sitting at home all alone in the late, dark and taunting nights waiting for her while she was 'at her friends house'.
I knew what she was doing was wrong but I loved her because she always did her best for me, and my brother. I would give my life for her because she gave us the best lives she could've possibly given us. She used to starve herself, never go out with friends, and she had to spend nights with stupid, strange men just to make money to support us. However, she still hurt me a lot because I knew what she was doing when she would come home late. You see I was quite mature for my age, well I had to be, I had to act like grown man during my childhood; it was my duty.

I won't lie I always hoped, and cried, wishing my dad would call or he would come. I remember looking out the window during those cold rainy nights, watching the rain drops and imagine it was a formula one race, because we couldn't afford the sports channels. With fingers crossed I would say 'dad will come, dad will win the race and finally be at home' But that always just lead to disappointment and hard feelings; He made me and by brother feel like crap, like we're not worth it, worthless. As I grew up, and finally was able to properly understand what was happening, I managed to learn he will never come back home. I won't lie I still have a little bit of hope, praying that one day he will open the door and say Jamal, Abdullah I'm here. I think this is what lead to my bad habits, as I never had a father figure to talk to about life, so I made a few really bad decisions in life. But still I won't lie I do have hatred towards him because of all the pain he caused my mum, and Abdullah during our childhood. I sometimes wonder; If he does come one day what would I do, would I talk to him? I always wanted to talk to him, or would I ignore or argue with him because of all the pain he caused us it made me feel crushed, bruised, and low.
I also remember when we were young my mum getting letters from the 'devil landlord' and people constantly coming over, uninvited, saying they would evict us if we continued to be late with the rent. It hurt me so much to see her cry and beg them 'please, please I promise to pay the rent, I'll do anything, please!' Then they would always exploit her, and force her to do things she really didn't want to do while I would sit and watch and feel worthless and powerless. This especially made me sad and furious. I also remember those days we would sit down and eat, and she would just say she wasn't hungry, but I really knew it was because there wasn't enough food. Those are the times I think 'where is my dad?' And I just grew more and more hatred towards him.
I also remember when I used to go to school my mum would give Abdullah and I two pounds each, to buy sweets from the local store so we did not feel left out when everyone else would go with their parents to buy sweets.
What's most disturbing is not once has he ever called, not once to wish me, my mum or abdullah happy birthday, and what else hurt me is when we would have school trips and all the boys would bring their dads, and have fun with each other, while me and abdullah would just sit in a corner alone and try to comfort each other and have fun by ourselves.

Also In London it was quite hard growing up a Muslim especially because of the hate they had faced due to a few terror attacks done around the world even though no one said anything to me I still felt uneasy and segregated from the rest of the people in the UK. I know no real Muslim agrees with it, but the media always portrayed us all as terrorists and murderers. It's unfair what they do to us, stereotyping us, because most of us are actually really good people.

9 years later is when it all changed. Finally my mum was able to get a legitimate job as a chef which she loved, and it was incredible because she was amazing at cooking, and she loved what she did. After a few months at her new job we were finally able to pay the rent, and we got a new flat, still in West London, we now could go out for meals, without worrying about being able to eat again that day. Everything was going great, my mum was happier than ever! I had just started my new school. It was a fresh start for us, and our story was just about to begin.
The good, the bad, and the ugly

Life was only starting now.