Ashira's World (Kofi Siriboe)

Love is Patient, Love is Kind

What a beautiful morning, I think to myself as I sit at the breakfast nook in my kitchen sipping a warm, soothing cup of ginger tea. The bright sun rays radiate through the kitchen window illuminating the white walls and bright yellow sheer drapes that cover the arched windows. I can hear the birds chirping in the courtyard, singing a lullaby. I love my kitchen; it's my favorite room in this huge mansion. The kitchen brings back memories of happy times before my family moved to Englewood in Chicago.

It's 7 a.m. and I just finished teaching my morning Hot Yoga class in the courtyard. Yoga helps me relax and keep my dancer's body tight and right. Alia has settled to her room to pray and the other ladies have gone back to the servant quarters. It will be another hour before the cooks start preparing breakfast so this is my quiet time. I still have on my heather grey cami and yoga pants. They feel so comfy, as they hug my tall thin frame with curves in all the right places. I love hugs. My body is still wet with sweat from the Hot Yoga. I let my hair down from the bun and my tight, black coils flow freely down to the small of my back. I close my eyes take a deep breath and begin my daily ritual of day dreaming.

Suddenly, Ahmed walks into the room looking wild and crazy as hell. I jump out of my skin. Chill bumps break out on my arms as I look into Ahmed's eyes and know another episode is coming. He has that blank, cold, sinister look in his eyes, as if he is the devil himself. I feel terror. My heartbeat explodes. Fear paralyzes me as I close my eyes and hold my breath. Suddenly Ahmed lunges at me, clenches both hands around my neck, squeezing so tightly I just know my neck will crack.

He pulls me violently out of the chair with his hands still around my neck, with so much force it knocks over the barstool as my tea cup crashes to the floor shattering into hundreds of tiny fragments. Ahmed continues to squeeze my neck tightly as I try to look into his eyes and snap him back to reality. He yells repeatedly with a deep, low, sinister voice, "bitch", "whore", "bitch". I can't reach him. I feel the breath begin to leave my body as I start to lose consciousness, and sink slowly to the floor. I'm going to die this time.

Ahmed always says the minute he laid eyes on me; he knew he had to have me. He loves to acquire things and I am just another one of his possessions. I was only 18 years old and a freshman in college when I first met him. His daughter Alia was my belly dancing instructor. Her family came to one of our dance shows. I caught him watching me dance, my hips swaying up and down, back and forth to the music. 

 Ahmed seemed entranced by the way my slender 5 feet 9 inch frame moved so gracefully to the middle-eastern music. He says when I walk it seems like I am floating. He loves to stare at me when I walk. Ahmed says it soothes him to watch my body move as if I am dancing to a beautiful soft melody when I walk so light, soft and carefree with my long legs. Our eyes met and I smiled at him revealing my deep dimpled high cheekbones and perfectly white teeth framed by full lips, naturally pink as if God painted them. It was love at first sight. I stared at him with my deep, intense, black eyes, two pools of water reflecting the soul of anyone who looks into them, and I realized he was the man from my dreams.

Ahmed is 32 years older than me, but honey he was fine and wealthy just like I had wished for when I was thirteen years old growing up in the jungle called Englewood. 6 foot 2 inches tall with broad shoulders and dark brown curly hair peppered with grey, Ahmed had an air of strength and confidence that was sexy. He had these warm, inviting brown eyes and he was so kind and generous. You wouldn't think he had a violent bone in his body. He bought me expensive clothes and jewelry and treated me like a queen. Ahmed moved to New York from Pakistan with his daughter, Alia, his parents, aunts, uncles and servants before we met. I wondered what happened to Alia's mother, but no one talked about it and I didn't ask.