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Istanbul, Türkiye.
November, 2018.



AMNA.

Being an introvert isn't easy at all; life can be a bit hard and challenging, especially living in a big city like Istanbul. It often feels like the world is moving at a pace I can't keep up with.

Making friends isn't easy as well. I mean, people live in their bubbles now. Some people here can be rude and unwelcoming, not judging them though. Anyway, I am so grateful for my best friend who is here with me, making my life 99% easier.

Sometimes all I want is to leave everything behind and get out of bed to experience the life this beautiful city has to offer, but each time I remember I will have to interact with people, I get discouraged.

My first year was really tough, from trying to adapt to the new environment to settling into the whole university thing, away from my family members, with no one to come home to. And even finding myself as a person was not easy to deal with, which led to me spiraling into depression and an existential crisis, but everything eventually fell into place.

Istanbul became a home away from home, a big city full of opportunities. I became optimistic, choosing to see everyone and everything through a lens of goodness.

I am Fatima Amna Omar.

It's Friday evening. I usually get my academic work done on Fridays because Saturdays are for online Quran classes and Sundays are for self-care and unwinding for the week ahead. Even though sometimes I take out time on Saturday nights to finish school work whenever it is bulky or I am unable to finish on Fridays, I like to plan my weekly schedule and to-do list on Sundays too.

I walked out of my apartment, which I share with my best friend, holding my backpack, which contains my MacBook, a few notepads, and some random stuff.

I wore a black hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants with a gray trench coat over my thermal wear, a black turban wrapped around my head, and a gray winter scarf wrapped around my neck.

I walked to the Starbucks that is just a few minutes away from my block, which is usually quiet at this time with a few people, tucking my hands in my coat. The weather goes as low as 8 degrees in November, which is very cold for my Nigerian skin.

In less than 20 minutes, I arrived at Starbucks, the warmth of the café enveloping me as I stepped inside. The place was nearly empty, just the way I liked it, and I made my way to the counter to place my order. The barista greeted me with a familiar nod, and I asked for my usual—a caramel iced latte, croissants, and a slice of cheesecake. Yes, it's cold outside, but there's something incredibly soothing about sipping an iced latte even in the dead of winter. It is my little indulgence.

After placing my order, I scanned the room, relieved to find that no one had claimed my favorite spot—a table for two in a quiet corner at the far end of the café, right next to the heater. It's a perfect spot. I settled down, carefully draping my coat over the back of the chair and removing my gloves, rubbing my hands together for some warmth before setting up my laptop and laying out my notepads.

I had barely finished arranging everything when the barista—the one I often tipped—appeared with my order. I thanked him, and he gave me a warm smile in return. I took a sip of my latte, letting the sweetness flood my senses, and smiled in satisfaction.

Indulging in my croissant and the thesis I had before me, my phone and MacBook started ringing simultaneously, which I quickly muted.
"Ya' Mims," my caller ID displayed, making me smile and quickly stuff my AirPods into my ears.

"Hi sis!" My voice came a bit louder than intended, drawing a few curious glances from the others in the café. Oops!

"Hi, my darling, how are you?" she asked, smiling.

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