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My Daughter

When I looked for my daughter one morning, I realized she was not around. I thought to myself, where’s she bleeding gone again, at the crack of dawn? She was always out, and never listened to me. I went into her brothers’ room; all three were sound asleep. I woke the eldest up, telling him he was late for work. I was surprised; he’d gone to bed with his clothes on, just like that, just as he’d come home from work. ‘Do you know where your sister is?’ I asked.

He just stared. ‘Mother, come, there’s something we have to tell you,’ he said. He woke up his brothers too. ‘Go and pour us some tea,’ he said. I was scared of the way he sounded. I went into the kitchen and poured some tea for the three of them.

‘Mother, we killed our sister, there was no other way out, she was bringing shame upon our family,’ he said.

Suddenly my blood pressure rose, I felt I was about to collapse. They gathered around me, rubbed my hands and arms with cologne. When I came round, I started repeating: ‘Oh God, please let it be a dream, let me wake up... Oh God, God forbid.’

Repeating bismillah over and over again, I ran into my daugh­ter’s room. She wasn’t there. I went back to the kitchen. Her three brothers were staring intently at my face. The youngest started sobbing.

‘Mother, you keep our secret,’ said the eldest.

I sat there and cried my eyes out, oh God, what else was I going to do. But there is no escape from fate. In the end I decided, what could I do, I’m a mother and I’ve lost my daughter, let me at least not lose my other children. And so I have not said a word to anyone for nine years. I’m so very sorry.

Exile

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