Women Walking Alone

I am from long line of women who have walked alone …
From a land that smells of the blood of innocent people
From a people who have lost everything in war – sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers
From a people feeling hopeless
I am from long line of women who have walked alone

I am proud to be the daughter of a brave woman
Who never gave up and showed her children the right way
Who sacrificed herself,
Who in childhood slapped me once to remind me
How important it was to concentrate on my lessons
She was the best mother in the world

I am from long line of women who walked alone…
From a place where I could never hear what my heart told me
And I could only follow what family told me
From a place where I couldn’t express my wishes and I hid my hopes
Where I couldn’t support my rights and I had to accept
Where everybody said
You can’t do it
You can’t go ahead; you can’t achieve your goal

I am from a place where girls are exchanged for money and forced to marry
Where I was humiliated for being for a quiet girl
Where a teacher told me, “I don’t care what you think
Because you can’t do anything.”
I am from a discouraging world that killed my talent because I was girl

I am from long line of women who have walked alone…
From women who failed many times in different situations
I lost my confidence when I lost my mother
Feeling alone without her guidance and losing hope
Feeling afraid to gain knowledge in case there is no freedom
From a culture where girls never see the outside
Sitting in a cage like birds who don’t know how to fly
When my mother leaves me, she tells me—
“Find your way. I cannot always be with you.”
She passed on the responsibility to me.

I am from long line of women who have walked alone…
I know now how to enter society
And find my answers though I’m alone
Learn from my experience though I have failed many times
I never give up
I find my way and learn nothing is impossible to achieve
I ignore those things that destroy my mind
I learn that no one can help me except me
I accept reality and I’m ready to face any problem
Now I have ambition to achieve my goal
To help my people bring peace to the next generation

I am from long line women who have walked alone…

By Shogofa

Dream of My Mother

I never dream of meeting a famous person. I always dream of meeting one person who is special in my life: my mother. I dream of meeting her at least once.

Here is my dream: the day is my birthday and all the members of my family are there for a surprise party for me. When I enter the room, the lights are off, but then they switch on the lights and everyone is shouting “Happy Birthday!” I am shocked because I didn’t remember it was my birthday. I see everyone is there except my mother. I look everywhere and can’t find her. My father is trying to keep me busy. I ignore him because it has been two months since I’ve seen my mother and I really miss her.

Then I see the door of my room is open, so I go there and see my mother standing near her picture. I hug her from the back and say, “Love you, Mother, and miss you so much.” She is wearing a white dress and a long veil. She turns her face—she looks like an angel—and then she kisses my head. Then everybody brings the cake into my room and I cut it. I’m so happy to see the family all together. Everyone gives my gifts, except my mother. She says “Come to me, my lovely daughter,” and she holds my hand.

I think my mother will give me a beautiful gift. She says, “Sit here.” I sit and my mother asks about my heath, and she wants to know about my studies. I am so happy to see her after this long time. I love talking to her. We talk a long time and I make her laugh. I love seeing her smile; she looks very happy at the end.

I ask my mother where my gift is, and then she gives me one pen and one notebook. It looks very old but very beautiful. The notebook is not empty. She wrote her life story in half the notebook. I say, “Mum, it is very old.” My mother says to me, “I know it is old, but this is from childhood. My mother gave it to me to start writing, and with this pen, I began writing about my life. So I want you to complete this notebook.” I open the some page of the notebook and read some of the lines she wrote about herself, how she made her life and how she suffered being a woman in society, and how she faced problems bravely.

Then she says, “This pen is your hand, and this notebook is your heart, and your mind is observing all around you, which helps you write. Also write what I’ve taught you from childhood up to now, and what you learn from your own experience because I am not always with you. One day I have to leave this world, but you must find your way from this complicated life and I am sure you will.”

Then I stand and kiss her hands and face. “Thank you, Mother, for showing me the right way and encouraging me. Love you, Mum. Always be with me.” I hug her again.

In the morning I wake up and hug her picture and I see in reality she wasn’t with me; she left me already. That was my dream, spending lovely moments of my life with her.

By Shogofa

The Smell of Rice

I can’t forget that day when we didn’t have anything to eat in our house. My father was jobless and my mother was working outside in rich people’s houses to earn money. My mother tried to prevent me from feeling hunger. I know it was difficult for her not to be able to feed her child properly.

In my childhood, I was very sensitive to smells. We had neighbors who were very rich and every night they had a party and cooked delicious food. One night they cooked rice and just the smell made me so hungry. I wanted to eat that rice. I asked my mother why we didn’t cook rice? Why can’t we smell this from our house? My mother tried to ignore me, and she took me away from the room filled with the smell of rice and into bed with her. My mother’s love, her natural smell, was stronger than the smell of rice. She didn’t use any special perfume, but she naturally smelled like a flower which shows up in the Spring. I felt comfortable when she hugged me, and I forgot my hungriness. When I would start crying, only my mother was able to calm me.

Despite our living in one of the poorest areas, my father and mother tried their best to gives us a good life. We had a happy family life and I always wanted to be with my mother.

But sometimes life doesn’t go as we want. My mother got sick she and the doctor said she should sleep alone. I was used to sleeping with my mother. How could I live without her? I cried a lot, believing I should stay away from my mother, but day by day, her illness became worse. We didn’t have enough money to take her to another country for treatment. We just waited to see what Allah wanted, but I really wanted to save my mother. Without her, I thought my life would be finished.

After some months, my mother’s illness became worse, and the doctors said she wouldn’t live anymore. When I heard this, I lost myself. I was just a 13-year-old girl; I just had mother and father in my life, no sister or brother. I had one mother all in the world. I couldn’t convince myself that after a few days my mother would die and I would be alone. This surprise of life shocked me.

My mother didn’t say anything when she dying. She just gave me a little money and then she spoke very slowly and said to me, “Give this money to your father to buy rice, and tell him to cook it for you and say you really want that smell of rice.” I could see that she was taking care of me even at the end of her life.

Eventually my mother died in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything; it was very difficult. I didn’t know the difference between day and night. How could I spend days and nights without my mother who fed me and loved me and talked with me? She was a part of my life. When I enter her room and sit on her bed, I feel like I can smell her. She is with me and my heart beats fast. I imagine her when I smell her clothes, the veil that she wore. I know she is not with me, but her soul is with me. I can feel her. Love you, Mum. You’re part of my life.

By Shogofa