the smallest glimpse of hope, the smallest hint of happiness was deemed too dangerous. I had nothing, and at that very moment, I hated everything. I felt hopeless and irrelevant, useless and pathetic. And there was nothing I could do.
If only I could go back to uni , I thought. If only Hana would let me. Then I might have a hope at the future I want, not one she wants. I want to be independent, I want to be strong.
I turned around, marching back in the house, heading for Hana, desperate to do something, to vent the anger inside me, direct it at someone who I felt deserved it.
“I want to go back to university,” I announced.
She flicked me a look. “It’s too dangerous,” she said, her hands still busy scrubbing the kitchen. “You know that. There are still bombs everywhere, shootings everywhere, teachers and lecturers killed, students threatened. You want to die?”
“But you let me go out to the soldiers,” I replied.
She sighed. “That’s different.”
“Why?” I asked.
She was silent.
“Why?” I shouted.
She stopped cleaning, rubbed her hands on a towel and moved towards me. “Because you’re bringing money home,” she spat. “You’re earning your keep. Giving something back to us for looking after you. And maybe you’ll meet someone you could marry. Take you away from here.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me?”
She shook her head at me. “Wake up to yourself, Lina. And take a look around you. Look at life here. What’s important? An education? I don’t think so. I care about you, Lina, and that’s why I want to see you find someone who can look after you. Forget about university. Forget about a career. It wouldn’t do you any good. It would just put you in more danger. Think about finding yourself a suitor.”
I was confused, disbelieving and so, so angry. Her reasoning didn’t make sense, and she knew it didn’t. It was a lie. A lie because she didn’t want to admit the truth even to herself. But I knew deep down why. It was Mama, all over again. Why had she been taken? Because she was educated, Hana thought, because she was clever. She didn’t hide away under the protection of some man, washing pots and clothes and cooking food and bringing up babies. She had a choice. And that was all I wanted.
I couldn’t follow Hana’s reasoning. I didn’t understand. Would Mama have been taken if she hadn’t been a lawyer? Maybe not. Would Papa have been shot if he hadn’t been an interpreter? Maybe not. But wasn’t it more complicated than that? This war didn’t follow rules. Anyone could be killed. For so many different reasons.
I wanted to scream at her, that I wasn’t going to go missing like Mama, or if I did, it would be because I ran away from her. I was sick of doing as I was told, being polite, holding my tongue.
“How would you support yourself and the kids if Aziz wasn’t here?” I hissed at her. “What if he was killed? What would you do? What if he crashed his taxi and couldn’t drive any more? How would you feed the boys? Or a roadside bomb? What if he was dead? What if you were alone?”
She slapped me.
And I think I deserved it.
My face was hot. I was angry and humiliated, but I stood my ground, I wouldn’t let her see what I was feeling.
“You’re useless without him,” I whispered.
I stormed from the room with tears in my eyes. And I opened the door and marched outside, the air fresh but hot, clammy on my skin.
I paced up and down, my face stinging, my chest burning, my heart thumping with rage and embarrassment. My argument with Hana had only made things worse. It had been pointless. Now there was no Steve here to make me feel better, and again there was no prospect of university. What had I been hoping for?
I looked across the city; the electricity was down again and houses hummed with the sound of generators. It drowned out my heavy breathing and my sobs. I was shocked at myself. I had never spoken to anyone like that. I felt ashamed, yet
If only I could go back to uni , I thought. If only Hana would let me. Then I might have a hope at the future I want, not one she wants. I want to be independent, I want to be strong.
I turned around, marching back in the house, heading for Hana, desperate to do something, to vent the anger inside me, direct it at someone who I felt deserved it.
“I want to go back to university,” I announced.
She flicked me a look. “It’s too dangerous,” she said, her hands still busy scrubbing the kitchen. “You know that. There are still bombs everywhere, shootings everywhere, teachers and lecturers killed, students threatened. You want to die?”
“But you let me go out to the soldiers,” I replied.
She sighed. “That’s different.”
“Why?” I asked.
She was silent.
“Why?” I shouted.
She stopped cleaning, rubbed her hands on a towel and moved towards me. “Because you’re bringing money home,” she spat. “You’re earning your keep. Giving something back to us for looking after you. And maybe you’ll meet someone you could marry. Take you away from here.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me?”
She shook her head at me. “Wake up to yourself, Lina. And take a look around you. Look at life here. What’s important? An education? I don’t think so. I care about you, Lina, and that’s why I want to see you find someone who can look after you. Forget about university. Forget about a career. It wouldn’t do you any good. It would just put you in more danger. Think about finding yourself a suitor.”
I was confused, disbelieving and so, so angry. Her reasoning didn’t make sense, and she knew it didn’t. It was a lie. A lie because she didn’t want to admit the truth even to herself. But I knew deep down why. It was Mama, all over again. Why had she been taken? Because she was educated, Hana thought, because she was clever. She didn’t hide away under the protection of some man, washing pots and clothes and cooking food and bringing up babies. She had a choice. And that was all I wanted.
I couldn’t follow Hana’s reasoning. I didn’t understand. Would Mama have been taken if she hadn’t been a lawyer? Maybe not. Would Papa have been shot if he hadn’t been an interpreter? Maybe not. But wasn’t it more complicated than that? This war didn’t follow rules. Anyone could be killed. For so many different reasons.
I wanted to scream at her, that I wasn’t going to go missing like Mama, or if I did, it would be because I ran away from her. I was sick of doing as I was told, being polite, holding my tongue.
“How would you support yourself and the kids if Aziz wasn’t here?” I hissed at her. “What if he was killed? What would you do? What if he crashed his taxi and couldn’t drive any more? How would you feed the boys? Or a roadside bomb? What if he was dead? What if you were alone?”
She slapped me.
And I think I deserved it.
My face was hot. I was angry and humiliated, but I stood my ground, I wouldn’t let her see what I was feeling.
“You’re useless without him,” I whispered.
I stormed from the room with tears in my eyes. And I opened the door and marched outside, the air fresh but hot, clammy on my skin.
I paced up and down, my face stinging, my chest burning, my heart thumping with rage and embarrassment. My argument with Hana had only made things worse. It had been pointless. Now there was no Steve here to make me feel better, and again there was no prospect of university. What had I been hoping for?
I looked across the city; the electricity was down again and houses hummed with the sound of generators. It drowned out my heavy breathing and my sobs. I was shocked at myself. I had never spoken to anyone like that. I felt ashamed, yet
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