She wept silently, her tears warm with heartache. The niqab shrouding her face concealed her sorrow from passersby, but not from those who had faith in her.
Her steps were measured and composed, her head bowed beneath the long hijab and niqab. As she reached her destination, she gently pushed open the door of the cream-colored house and entered with a respectful greeting.
The elderly woman, no less than fifty years old, rose from her seat by the well and greeted Mata.
“Wa’alaikissalam. Do you think you’ve returned to savor life? Is Kobaki at home?”
Her niqab was lifted, revealing her flawless face. She offered a small smile and replied, “Yes, dear Ummah, I found out that he went to the market.”
Batareda waited for Umman Tasuba’s response and moved forward. Ummah followed her, watching intently. She sensed that her daughter was concealing some truths, just as she had hidden from her own life’s challenges. Ummah’s heart eased a bit as she gently shook Kai’s hand, then released it and followed the path her daughter had taken into the room.
Seated there, she cradled Tagumi’s father and continued to cry. However, upon hearing Ummansu’s farewell, she swiftly wiped her tears away, replacing them with a smile. As Ummah gazed at her, she marveled at the depth of her daughter’s resilience.
The young woman’s words interrupted her reflections.
“Ummah, what about Zarah? They haven’t returned yet.”
Sitting beside her, Ummah replied, “They’re not back yet. Nafisar called me and said they’d be back in the evening. They have some errands to run for her.”
“Hmm, that’s my dear Aunt Nafisa for you. You can’t go to her house without working for her. She’s quite particular about her chores, just like Zarah, Ummah.”
Ummah simply smiled, not perturbed in the least. Near the window, the young woman stood up and said, “JIDDAH! Come back and sit. We need to talk.”
She didn’t need to return to her seat; she remained standing. “So, Ummah, what is it that you want to discuss?”
Ummah took a deep breath before locking eyes with Jiddah.
“No, Ummah, I was looking for you. I went to the market.”
“I don’t agree, Jiddah. I am your mother. You all know that I’m aware of each of your situations. Stop trying to hide things from me; there’s nothing new under the sun.”
“Forgive me, Ummah. I know that repeating words won’t change anything. Forgiveness and moving forward are the right paths.”
“We all know that, Jeddah. Go on.”
“Exactly, Ummah, as you wish. I found Abba at home having breakfast after we greeted him and Aunt Amarya. I told him that we needed his help with money for school fees, but they refused, saying they’re going on vacation and can’t afford it. Abba even mentioned how he’s tired of raising daughters and wishes he could escape to God’s world, as if we’re a burden to him. He believes it’s better to spend money on ice cream than education because he thinks it won’t benefit us in the long run. I fed him his words, but the truth is, he won’t help us. I’m guilty of providing him food. He has no intention of supporting our education. It’s disheartening, Ummah. And he started talking about Oman’s wedding…”
Ummah remained silent, afraid to speak. However, Had’iye tried to intervene, struggling to utter words while her hand trembled behind Jiddah.
Interrupting the silence, Jiddah continued, “Ummah, why does this world try to stifle us? The other day, I overheard Abba’s words. It’s true; women in this society seem to have no purpose beyond being born, getting married, and giving birth. We’re seen as useful only until we reach a certain point. After that, we’re humiliated and deemed insignificant. Women are belittled, and their intellect disregarded. We are the backbone of the Ummah, yet we’re being marginalized. Ummah, Abba is like this, so how can my future husband be any different? What about our Ummah, Abba?”
Ummah swiftly covered Jiddah’s mouth, saying, “Enough, Jiddah, you mustn’t speak ill of your father, no matter who I am. He’s your father and doesn’t deserve any resentment. Prayer and forgiveness are our only weapons, my child.”
Kai gently wiped Mata’s tears away, and Ummah said, “I’ll just sell these seats to pay for school. They say playing with one’s grades is essential. Even if they get a basic education, it will serve them well. It gives them something to aim for wherever they find themselves. You should have no worries, my dear sister. May God bless you with a husband who’ll care for you as you deserve.”
“Ameen, Ummah, but let’s wait and see if we can manage to pay for them.”