The Unforgettable Moment by - Zaynab Muhammad

 

The Unforgettable Moment

by - Zaynab Muhammad

I was the envy of all my friends. Why shouldn’t they? I am a young barrister with an amazing wife and four wonderful kids. Most men my age are either unmarried or with unsettled homes or carriers, or even sometimes both. To their envious remarks, I only just reply, “Alhamdullilah (praise be to God)”.

 

My pretty life changed on the 25th of August, 2005. That day, I had lost a case I have been handling for a month. I came home tired, hungry and angry. I got home to meet Imran, my first son, playing with his toys and throwing them all around in the process. Meera was in the kitchen making lunch. I decided to stay a while in the parlour to watch some news so I can clear my head a bit. 

I was already getting absorbed in the news when I started to hear Faisal arguing with his younger brother. This was not unusual, as they were always fighting over something. This time, they were fighting over a toy, with Faisal claiming that the toy car was his and Imran viciously denying it. The back and forth went on for almost an hour. I left them alone for most of that time. Their mum in turn only just said a few words and also left them alone in the corner of the parlour. They continued yelling at each other till I finally got feed up and told them to go to their room and seized the toy. 

“What was that”, I asked Meera in annoyance. 

She, looking confused, responded, “what was what?” I began to complain about how she allowed the kids disturb me while i was trying to rest, and how she ignored them after only cautioning them once. I switched to how hungry I was and she is still not done in the kitchen. From complaining about that, I moved on to moaning about how I lost the case because my client lied to me.  She just stood there, quietly listening to each word I uttered. 

When I was done, she then started to speak in that calm, cool tone she normally uses. She empathized with me losing my case and apologized for not cooking early. She said she intentionally ignored them because I was at home,  and felt it won’t be a problem if I help out a bit. 

“They are also your kids. What is there if you stop them from quarelling? It’s not raising three boys almost without help, especially with Faisal and Imran fighting all the time. You are not always at home and when you come back, you do your thing without helping me out. It’s really not easy with the boys, the baby, my catering job, all these is too much for me to handle”. 

“Then maybe you should stop working and just tend to the children. I make enough money for us to be comfortable anyway”. I retorted angrily.

The argument became hotter after I said this. The last statement she made was, ‘if I die, then you will know how it feels’. 

I got up and angrily went to my room. We didn’t talk throughout the rest of the evening; I didn’t even know when my sister came to pick-up the boys for a sleep-over. 

She was reading a novel while I was getting ready to sleep. I knew we were both at fault, even though I had sort of overreacted a little and I knew we were to apologise to each other at this point. “We will do that tomorrow”, I thought and rolling to my side facing away from her.

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A loud sound, seemingly coming from the kitchen, woke me up. Meera also woke up as I was getting up to go and check. 

“Stay here”, I said to her, but she didn’t listen. I wasn’t in the mood to fight so I just ignored her. Getting to the kitchen, I saw the backdoor wide open. I was surprised because I know that Meera closes all the doors and I double check them all before we go to sleep. I closed the door and was headed back to our room when I felt something on my head. 

‘Don’t make a sound. MOVE…’ a strange male voice said behind me. 

My heart began to pound. I slowly and quietly walked to the parlour, with the assailant prodding me with a gun to my head. Someone put on the light and I saw five strange, scary looking men dressed in black with weapons in their hands. Meera was already there, with the baby in her arms. You could see fear in her eyes. 

They pushed me to the floor, forcing me to kneel down in front of their boss who was seated on one of the sofas, his two legs on the center table. He removed a pair of dark glasses, revealing his face. I thought his face looked familiar, but I can’t put my finger to it. 

‘Do you know me’, he asked. 

 I shook my head. He looked at my wife from head to toe making her feel so uncomfortable. I started to say something, in order to try to interrupt him but he shut me up, warning me not to speak until he tells me to. He asked Meera to hand him the baby. Meera looked pleadingly at me but I was also looking quite confused. 

“I said give me the baby”, he said again, this time pointing his gun at me.  Meera handed over the baby, tears beginning to form on her face, but she tried to control it. One thing I hated the most was to see cry or to see her in pain, but right now I felt powerless to protect her. 

He told Meera and I to go make him some tea and bring something nice to go with it. The last phrase he made was, “If you try to do anything stupid, I will kill your child, I promise you that”. We shuffled into the kitchen. Meera started preparing the tea, but her body shaking violently. She was so disorganized, trying to make the tea and opening the biscuit at the same time. I grabbed her waist and looked deep into her eyes, “Babe, calm down”, I said.

That just sort of made her burst into tears. She began to cry silently, placing her head on my chest. I hugged her tightly. We were both quiet for some minutes till I broke the silence by whispering her name. She lifted her head up, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “It’s going to be ok”, I said. “All they will do is ask for some money and then they will leave us alone. I promise I won’t let them harm you or Zara. Just keep praying. God has always been with us and is still with us, just have fate. I want you to promise me one thing. Promise me you will be strong. I really need you to be strong now, babe. Please try to be strong for Zara and I. We will get through this’. I kissed her forehead. 

She hugged me tightly and whispered, ‘I LOVE YOU’. I didn’t want her to see how weak I was at that point, or how sacred I was with the thought of losing either her or Zara. I wanted her to see the ‘lion’ in me, the brave Yusuf.

We took the tea and biscuits back, and the gang leader started to eat, at the same time was watching the TV. We stood there waiting for almost 30mins till he finally finished eating. When he was done, he cleared his throat, and started talking to me. He reminded of a case I handled seven years ago; the case of a girl who was raped and killed. The guy accused of the crime was sentenced to 25 years in prison, but he had died in prison only four years after.

I was wondering what this had to do with anything when he blurted out a startling fact, “The guy who was accused of the crime is my younger brother and if it was not for you, he would still have been alive”. He started screaming and venting, pouring all his anger out. I tried to defend myself saying, ‘I was just doing my job’. 

He rushed up from the sofa, hitting me with the butt of the gun he was holding, and knocking me to the floor. The next thing I heard was a gun shot. “Now you will know how it feels to lose someone you love”, he said as they made their way out of the house.

At that moment, my heart stopped beating. I was scared to get up; I didn’t know what I will see. I froze when I saw her blood oozing out of her. I slowly got up, crawled to where she laid, and kept her head on my laps, hot tears rolling down from my eyes. She touched my face, said the shahadah and that was it. She was gone. 

That was the day I lost the love of my life. I lost my best friend, my strength. On that day my Meera died. I have tried to erase that memory from mind but it keeps hunting me every night. The imaged is glued to my heart and mind. My life changed that day, the world around me was no longer the same. 

While we were arguing earlier that day, she had said that if she dies I will know how it feels. I now do. I am pained that I never had the chance to apologise. The days after her death, I mostly just lock myself in my room and cry like a child. Its been 25years but it still feels like yesterday. My aunt suggested I marry again but no; I prefer to stay like this forever. . .  I know I will never meet a unique girl like Meerah.

I have since learnt that we should appreciate our loved ones and enjoy every moment in our life with them because we will never know when it will end. Death is inevitable, it strikes without warning. Everything in life is temporary, nothing stays forever.