Still happens in the world...
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“Mother, you got bruises on your hand, and what’s wrong with your mouth, it looks like a dog attacked you.”
“Nothing, I just fell down the stairs.”
“Are you sure you’re okay.”
“Yeah….I’ll be okay, don’t worry, all what you have to think about right now is your education, I don’t want you to live my life “
“Okay, I don’t want to be late then, the teacher told us to come earlier than usual to read our poems to each other.”
“Alright, make me proud little kiddo.”
“Yes I will the most beautiful Mrs. Norah in the world.”
Little Sarah closed the door waving goodbye to her mom with a smiling pale face. A lot of kids read their poems talking about the beauty of the spring, love, solidarity, and so on.
“Miss Sarah, let’s hear what you wrote.” the teacher said. Holding her small notebook, Sarah stood up before her classmates.
“I wrote a prose poem about Mrs. Norah mum, and this how it begins.”
“Mrs. Norah is a pretty woman whose father told her not to go to school because he thought that the villagers would consider him a complete fool. Letting a woman learn is like forgetting to lock a cage door of an untamed lioness. She will be a total mess; an icon of uselessness. Her right place is in the kitchen, washing dishes and making love to her man in the bedroom. Mrs. Norah obeyed. Freedom is delayed. When she was 18 years old her old man passed away, she whispered to her reflection in the mirror “it is time to run away.” But what happens to a girl when she wants to break rules in a traditional society? Who fears each other more than the Almighty? She lived for three days in a tiny dark well-locked room with no water and no food. She barely survived. Her big brother opened the door, “mum come in, take her, bathe her, feed her, and make her look like a good woman. Tonight is her wedding.” Norah begged on her knees “no please, I’ll do anything to not get married to one of your peers, please.” Poor lady, she found herself with a drunk groom in the same room. Her fate was sealed, and her dreams were evaporated. Mother Norah thinks that I don’t know about her getting beaten every night, but I was afraid so I hid under my bed. She always tells me the famous lie “I fell down the stairs daughter, don’t worry about me.” Her entire life is just a façade. Mom needs aid, she screams but nobody listens. She has bruises everywhere on her little skinny body. She believes that I don’t know about her endless pain but she has to sustain. She said this morning, “I don’t want you to live my life.” Well mom you sold your life years ago to a drunk groom, and I’ll do my best to give you back a few flames that you lost because of me. I don’t need your sacrifice, I just want to see you in one piece.”
Mrs. Norah was in the crowd that morning; she wanted to surprise her daughter Sarah.
…to be continued