(Mariyams pov)
I lay awake at night, unable to sleep even after I'd fasted. I'd done training along with taraweeh and I still couldn't fall asleep. For some reason the interview I had this morning with 'Woman's Health' magazine kept replying itself in my head. The reporter was sweet but her questions haunted me. I got out of bed, slipped on my slippers and padded down the corridor. I moved carefully, my slippered feet moving soundlessly in the dark. I didn't want to risk tripping over one of aunty Anne's action figures yet again. Yes, I'm living with her now, in Orlando, California. Aunt Anne is in Paris for the weekend so I'm home alone.
Last year this time, seventeen year old me got a scholarship to Riley Crawford Collage and since there weren't many opportunities for me back home, in Barcelona, I grabbed it without a second thought. It was difficult for the first few weeks but I kept at it and soon became accustomed to the changes and demands. I also made new friends, Asma being one of them.
Outside was warm; I took a seat on the bench in the front yard. I gaze up to the heavens. My mind flashed back to this morning's interview:
"Since moving from Spain, how much contact have you managed to have with your brothers? What is your favourite childhood memory? Are you confident your team will win gold next year? Are you in a relationship?"
I managed to answer the first question, the one about missing my younger brothers, quite honestly.My reply about my favourite childhood memory was a smile, after that I said there were too many to count. True? Yes.About my soccer team or football team (as my American amigas say) winning gold, I gave the answer I give myself everyday when I lace up my boots, "I'm working everyday to be better than I was yesterday."
The last question I scoffed and said something feminist about not needing a man in my life.
Was that really true? No it wasn't.
When she asked this my mind flashed back to fifteen year old me playing football in the park.
A boy with white blonde hair and green eyes challenged me to a penalty shoot out. And me, being my mother's daughter, I wouldn't back away from a challenge. Long story short, the boy was a sore loser and wanted a rematch.
I simply stuck my tongue out at him and walked away. Later that day, Mama said that her long time friend Ameera was in town and would be spending Eid with us. The next day I was out with my cousin Caroline at a book store getting books for the next semester when I bumped into a guy. He quickly got up and picked up my books that had fallen on the floor. When I got up to thank the dude I was surprised when I realised he was the same one from the park the day before. I know you're not supposed to get angry while fasting but I exclaimed in English:
"Are you stalking me?!" My voice rose in incredulity, "You think a pair of glasses can fool me?"
"Maybe you should have worn them yesterday, if wanted your aim to be better!" I scoffed. But the dude just stared at me. So I did the same thing I did the day before. Days flew by and soon it was Eid.
"Mama! Please can I wear pants under this?" I remember complaining about my Eid outfit.
"Mariyam! You are not going to play soccer in that dress!" I remember her warning me.
Besides that, the day was awesome. That year we came home early from Abuela's since we had to prepare for our German visitors. Luckily mama let me change into an outfit I felt more comfortable in. I put on a pair of jeans along with an Athletico Madrid T-shirt, it had the name of mine and my cousin Fernando's favourite player; Griezmann.
I could hear the guest down stairs so I quickly tied my hijab before running down stairs to greet them. When I got there, the quests were already in the dining room. I first saw Ameera she was even more beautiful than in the photo's. But then my eyes moved to her sons and gosh did I want to melt realizing that they were twins.
"You"! The dude from the park and I exclaimed at the same time.
And that's how our super complicated relationship began. Yusuf is older and nerdier, unlike his younger brother, Benyameen.
He is Barcelona and I am real Madrid. He is Messi and I am Ronaldo.
I haven't seen them in a long time, but this morning, I swear I saw one of them sitting on the bleachers during training.
I looked up to the heavens and prayed to Allah for my mind to clear up. I prayed Tuhajjud and then went back to sleep but was woken up by my cell phone ringing. 'Unknown number', the screen read before I picked it up.
"Asalamualaykum Hermana. Could you look out your window?"
I did as my younger brother asked and there they were. Mum with her Camera, Daniel smiling with the phone pressed to his ear and papa standing next to my youngest brother, Aslam. Poor guy, he looked like he'd fall asleep at any second. This family and surprises! I immediately put my slippers on and ran from my bedroom down the stairs.
First, I hugged my favourite Eid present; Daniel. He's my favourite present since he was born on Eid.
Fifteen years ago four year old me was playing with my dollhouse (using it as a goal post with three Fulla dolls as defenders and a teddy bear as a goalkeeper) when mum called me. We lived in a smaller house back then so I got to her quickly. She told me to get her cell phone and so I did. Two hours later I had a younger sibling. I remember my parents finding it hard to explain to me but then my Abuelo put me on his lap and said Daniel was my Eid gift from Allah. I didn't understand him at first but as Daniel grew and I grew, I began to understand.
I then hugged mum.
I remember this one specific Ramadaan when thirteen year old me got "it" for the first time. I remember how awkward I felt going through those changes and at the same time following my dream to be the first hijabi footballer to win a balonador, to be the first hijabi on the cover of Fifa.
There were days where I wanted to give up and not play anymore but my mum told me something special; "If doors are being slammed in your face, you should get up and kick them open because, at the end of the day, it is nothing but our fears that hold us back." Eid came along that year and even though I didn't go for Eid Salaah with everyone else, I still enjoyed my day.
Those words my mum told me will forever be my favourite quote of her many beautiful quotes.
I then hugged papa.
I remember a ten year old me ripping the wrapper of an Eid gift to find my first pair of soccer boots. They were my favourite colour; pink. They weren't just a pair of boots, they were his way of letting me know he was happy as long as I followed my dreams. I know it hasn't been easy on him, sending his only daughter across an ocean.
I then hugged my youngest brother who seemed to grow more every time I saw him. "We have another surprise for you," he says, rubbing his eyes.
Mum and Papa, along with Daniel sent death glares his way.
"What? I'm so jet lagged and Aunt Sara is probably on her way already!" he moaned.
He then walked up to the bench and put his hands under his face and within seconds he was fast asleep. One thing you should know about him is that he gets his sleeping habits and looks from papa.
Daniel has mum's red hair and papa's blue eyes along with his affinity for drawing. He is so good at it that Aunt Anne suggested to him that he should start making his own comics.
I got papa's looks and mums personality and green eyes. At least that's what Caroline tells me. An UBER pulled up and out came Aunt Sara. She threw arms around me before announcing: "You'll never guess what I got us!"
"Don't tell you came all this way just to play the old Fifa with me!" I say dramatically, crossing my arms and flipping my long, brown hair behind me. Aunt Sara then pulled out the new Fifa and the two of us squealed like teenage girls, which is unusual since both of us are not very girly.
I don't remember the first time she put a controller in my hand but I also don't remember a time when the two of us weren't gaming together. Every year it would be our tradion to preorder The Sims and Fifa. We even have a blog where we post ratings and reviews.
As we walk into the house she tells me about the new laptop she got and how much faster it is compared to her last one.
We all eat suhoor and go to sleep after Fajr salaah. After I prayed, I thanked Allah for answering my question in the best way possible.
-
The next day I give my family a tour of campus. I show them my favourite place; the grounds. Even though there are a few people here, it doesn't stop papa and my brothers from playing a twenty minute match.
Soon mum has her camera out. She's probably going to post this on my instagram later. I let her handle it since I'm not all that into social media. Papa snuck away and went behind mama who was focused on the three of us. When I was younger I would have exclaimed "EWWWWW!" at the romantic scene folding out in front of me.
But older me envies them for still being able to look at each other with puppy eyes.
-
Two days pass and soon we're in NY for Eid. One of mum's other famous friends invited us. I came to NY once last semester with the team but didn't get a chance to do much touring.
"How have your studies been going?" asks mum while we ride in the taxi. I give a straight answer, saying that she doesn't have to worry and that they're going well.
Besides being a footballer, I have always been amazed with both body and mind so I when I came to collage I picked sports psychology as my degree.
My new iphone buzzes and I turn it around to see Caroline wants to face time.
"Asalamulaykum. Olla," I say, accepting the call.
"Walaykumusalam! You will never guess what happened!" she sequels, nearly blowing all our ear drums.
"What?"
"IGM!" she says.
"IGM?" I repeat, confused. Then I realised that it means 'I got married'.
"To WHOM and WHEN? I want to know everything!"
"To MBBF!"
"Really? Him? Fernando's best friend from university? I thought you hated his guts."
"Sometimes I still do but hey, he makes me smile so I don't care!...Do-"
"Olla C where are-"
My phone beeped before dying, cutting off the call, making me regret running 'fantasy football manger' in the background.
The yellow cab pulled up to a grand building. Out of the door came Layla, a woman I know as my mum's former boss and a good friend. They embrace and start speaking in Arabic, of which I only understand a few words.
We all follow them into the grand building who's lobby resembles a palace.
"When you get rich, make sure you buy me this place!" Aslam whispered to me.
"Ok buddy, I'll put that on my to-do list," I whispered back.
The theme of the party was Arabian nights, I don't usually care for parties but Layla Bam's are always themed, making them awesome. She showed us to where we'd be staying for the next two days.
When everybody was out of my room, I did a back flip onto the soft, cushy blue bed. Ahh Aslam is right, maybe I should buy him this place. I got out a charger from my Nike backpack and plugged my phone into the wall socket. I looked up to the heavens and thanked Allah when the screen came back to life. I then went to the bathroom and performed Wudhu for Asr Salaah.
After I finished praying, someone knocked on my door, I opened in without hesitation since I knew only one woman who knocks like that. Mum came in carrying a suit case.
"I had this adjusted to your liking. I hope you wear it tomorrow, " she said, laying it on the bed.
She then left and I was alone with it. "Please don't let it be another cream dress," I prayed to Allah before unzipping it.
-
We'd sited the moon last night so here I am; getting ready.
I balanced on the wall next to me while putting on the only pair of black heels that I owned.
I saw my door being opened slowly .
"Oh my word! You actually wore it!" mum exclaimed, her green eyes sparkling just like the sparkling green fabric of my long sleeve jump suit. Yes, mum had altered her favourite dress just so I could wear it. She walked over to me, eyes scanning me from head to toe. It fit me like my boots fit me.
"I was going to give it to you once you won your first of many Balondaors but I then I remembered when I bought this dress and it reminded me that there is no time better than the present," she smiled and took my hands in hers.
I felt like crying because this moment felt bigger and better than any that passed or any to come. "Will you help me with my hijab?" I asked, blinking back my tears.
"Of course I will," replied mum.
So she sat me down by the dressing table and ran a brush through my long chocolate brown hair.
I remember one Eid the seven year old me, sitting in a similar way with her brushing my hair.
"Now Mariyam, do you know why we where hijab"? she asked me.
"To protect our hair from the sun?"
"That and to show that we are Muslim. To show that we believe a woman's or man's life is only worth how much good they do in this world and that we can only be judged by Allah the Great and the Glorious."
She then showed me how to tie my hijab and from that day on, I did not forget how to tie it.
My hijab styles may have changed but my love and outlook on it never will.
"All done," mum says, looking at her master piece. Wow, that was fast. Usally these fancy hijab styles take forever when I try to do it myself.
This hijab is black and made out of chiffon and it reaches over my lower back.
"Now, for your makeup..."
"Eww. Don't put that thing on me. It's made by men for woman to look like clowns!" I jump up from the dressing table.
"Oh honey, don't take it so seriously, I'm only joking," mum says, nudging me and with that we walk out, arm in arm.
-
The party is great and has been lasting for a few hours. I decide to take a breather on the empty balcony and took the opportunity to call C. But the line is busy and she doesn't answer. The party is being held on the twelfth floor so I can look out to its back garden which is central park.
My eyes zoom in on a bunch of kids playing soccer and my feet feel naturally compelled to join the game.
I close my eyes and imagine myself out there. Imagine my heart rate claiming. Imagine the feel of the grass under my boots. Imagine the crowd. Imagine my team lifting up the league trophy. Imagine my family being there with me. Imagine my mum with her camera. Imagining it all.
I whip around when I hear footsteps. I think it's a waiter since the guy is wearing black and white.
"You've changed a lot," he says, his accent coming out German.
I leaned back on the railing shocked.
What on earth is Benyameen doing here?
Or am I still imagining things?
