It was all part of the plan.
It was my culture.
I had to do it.
Heck, I didn't even have a say in it...
Follow me as I tell you the story of my life as a Fulani girl .
Disclaimer: this book is Islamic, but it doesn't portray the perfect Islam...
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Ayman above.
i'm dead??
they seriously think I'm dead?
"doctor I don't care!! I'll pay anything. Just bring my son back. Please"
it was Daddy's voice, he sounded desperate, as if he was in tears.
"we've tried everything but his heart still isn't beating. The bleeding in his skull hasn't stopped either"
as the doctor explained all those things, I tried to listen but I could feel my self going back to that dark place. I didn't like the darkness. I wanted to open my eye, I wanted to breath in the fresh air, I wanted to feel my Nina against me.
all those thoughts get cleared from my head fast as I sunk into the pitch black darkness in my head.
***** she's here!
I can feel her presence
her soft angelic voice was calling me.
"Ayman!"
her voice was desperate and sad. She sounded almost in tears.
I tried to open my eyes or move any part of my body.
they refused to comply!!
urgh! C'mon!
please eyes I'm begging you.
open!
let's try this.
1
2
3
I pushed them open, but still they refused.
I was still in the dark. I groaned in frustration.
please!!
there was still nothing. I felt the cold liquid tears run down the side of my face fast.
I was crying?
oh god I was crying.
they were tears of frustration. I wanted to wake up! I really do!
what's wrong with me?? Am I going to end like this?
will I ever see my wife's face again.
will I ever get to hold her in my arms? And kiss her? And hug her? And make love with her??
