Haifa stared at her mother, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious about this. Please, tell me you're joking," she pleaded.
It was a Saturday afternoon, slightly past noon. Haifa sat in her room,
engrossed in editing the photos and videos she had captured during a hangout
with her friends at Crossroads Maldives the previous day. The place had gained
popularity due to its distinctive offerings, such as the Marine Discovery
Center showcasing local arts and the elegant event halls with soaring ceilings.
For Haifa, an aspiring photographer/ videographer, it was an ideal location.
Haifa had gone
to the exquisite location for the sole purpose of trying out her new iPhone. When
Apple unveiled the iPhone 12 Pro Max, Haifa was certain that it was the one she
desired, as a professional camera was still beyond her financial reach. Haifa had
dedicated over a year of her spare time to tutoring grade school children to
save up for her coveted iPhone.
Seated on her swivel chair, an
elegant pink velvet piece with a golden chrome base, she faced her chic compact
desk. Her laptop occupied the desk's surface, and her attention was intently
fixed on exploring the new features of the editing program she had been using
for years. When they had initially moved into the apartment, Haifa had managed
to squeeze in a desk and a chair, despite the limited space. The small quarters
already felt crowded with her wardrobe and bed. Even though she could have
utilized the living area for her studies or work, Haifa had a preference for
having her own dedicated space.
In the midst of preparing to upload
her reels to Instagram, her mother, Nasreena, interrupted her. Just hearing the
words "needed to talk" from her mother's lips set off alarm bells in
Haifa's mind. She knew from experience that these conversations were rarely
positive. However, what her mother had to say this time turned out to be even
worse than she had anticipated.
Nasreena regarded her with a
sympathetic gaze. "Ifa dharifulha, we've had these conversations
before," she replied, her tone gentle yet firm. Haifa knew that her mother
used the term "dharifulha," which meant son or daughter in Dhivehi,
the Maldivian language, to convey a sense of tenderness alongside her firm
response.
Mother and daughter shared similar
features in terms of appearance. Both possessed smooth, amber-colored skin,
deep coal-black eyes, and dark hair. While Haifa boasted rich, vibrant,
cascading curls, her mother's hair had thinned and turned gray over time. The
effects of her arduous days were etched onto Nasreena's skin, which had become
wrinkled and weathered. Many people drew comparisons between Haifa and a
younger Nasreena. However, there was a noticeable height difference between
them. Haifa stood tall at five feet five inches, a whole five inches taller
than her mother, inheriting her father's physique.
Haifa shook her head in stubborn
defiance. "I thought it was just a discussion! I didn't realize you were
actually considering it." She leaned back in her chair at the dining
table, while her mother sat across from her, resting her elbows on the wooden
surface.
Her mother let out a deep sigh, her
frustration veiled behind a patient demeanor. "You know it wasn't,"
she responded with a calm resolve. "We waited this long for you to finish
your studies."
Nasreena reached out and gently held
Haifa's hand, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's not as daunting as
you're imagining. You'll adapt," she assured Haifa in a soft tone.
Haifa's gaze bore into the man
seated beside her mother, Jalaal, her stepfather. He was a small, gentle man in
his fifties, his kindness and soft-spoken nature having endeared him to her
mother. He kept his head lowered, allowing mother and daughter to converse
without his interference.
Two years had passed since her
mother's remarriage. Haifa had been just a toddler when her father passed away.
Her mother had shouldered the responsibility of raising her alone, balancing
work and home life. Her mother was her pillar of strength.
"Why do we have to leave?"
Haifa queried, her frustration evident in her tone. She gestured towards the
compact two-room apartment that currently housed them. "We have enough
space here."
They had transitioned to the current
apartment from their previous one-room abode when her mother remarried. Moving
residences was a common occurrence for residents of Male', a result of the
scarcity of housing. Male' was the capital island of the Maldives, the smallest
republic in Asia, and it housed a significant portion of the population due to
its high population density. The majority of Male' residents lived in apartment
buildings that were typically ten to fifteen stories tall, constructed on
limited land space, and often intended for renting.
"The rent is becoming increasingly
burdensome; it's hard to manage. Plus, I believe being closer to our family
would be beneficial," her mother empathetically expressed, addressing
Haifa's concerns.
Haifa had frequently listened to her
mother's stories about their native island, Vavathi, located within the Noonu
Atoll in the northern region of the country. The Maldives, renowned as one of
the world's most geographically dispersed nations, comprised a series of
twenty-six atolls stretched across the expanse of the Indian Ocean. Although
the total count of islands exceeded a thousand, merely around 200 of them were
inhabited.
As per her mother's accounts, the
population on most islands averaged around a thousand, while the more populous
ones housed over 5,000 residents. This population distribution posed a
significant challenge for the government in extending adequate education and
healthcare services to all areas. Consequently, the government had opted to
channel its resources primarily toward developing the capital city over the
past decades. This policy resulted in the concentration of essential services
and resources in Male', while the remaining islands of the country were left in
a state of neglect.
Hence, that was the driving force
behind her parents' critical decision. Nasreena herself had experienced the
repercussions of the limited educational opportunities available in the 1970s in
Vavathi. The island's education system only extended up to the sixth-grade
level. Due to her own educational limitations, Nasreena had been compelled to
work in labor-intensive jobs to singlehandedly provide for Haifa's upbringing.
Haifa let out a frustrated huff.
"I haven't seen them or spoken to them in ages," she retorted.
Haifa's aversion towards her
relatives on Vavathi was, in her opinion, well-founded. They frequently mocked
her and treated her as an outsider. Admittedly, she had played a part in this
issue, being notably hesitant to engage in social interactions with them. It
wasn't a matter of personal animosity; she simply required time to get to know
people and establish a connection. Her longest stay on the island had lasted
just one week.
"Besides, I'm about to start
working, and we'll have more money then. It won't be a problem."
Haifa had successfully completed a
three-year program in Graphics and Multimedia at Mianz International College,
one of the esteemed institutions in the city. Her fascination with multimedia
had blossomed from a young age, and it had only intensified when her mother
granted her a smartphone upon reaching her teenage years.
Nasreena, her mother, inclined her
head slightly. "Ifa, dharifulha, I understand that this change is
challenging, but please try to comprehend," she implored gently. Her eyes
radiated affection for her daughter. "We have a home there, and Jalaal has
worked hard to renovate it for our return. The only reason your father and I
moved here was so that you could have a better education. At that time, our
island lacked a proper school."
Haifa remained
resolute, her tone stubborn. "What am I supposed to do on an island,
Mamma? Everything and everyone I know is here. This is my life," she
insisted, her determination unwavering.
While her mother might still cherish fond memories of her childhood and harbor
deep affection for her island, Haifa held no affinity for a mundane existence.
She considered herself a contemporary young woman with modern sensibilities.
She relished the excitement of the latest trends and was drawn to the fast-paced
allure of urban life. Haifa took pleasure in indulging in fast foods, enjoying
Netflix, and navigating the lively and bustling city streets.
The
conveniences and accessibility that Male' provided were something she relished;
Wi-Fi was as essential to her as the air she breathed. Her aspirations lay in
securing a position at a well-established graphics company, eager to carve out
her own identity and make a name for herself in the industry.
"You'll find opportunities there as well; it's not as undeveloped as you
believe. We'll start a new life there," her mother said, offering Haifa an
encouraging smile.
"No, I won't leave," Haifa
declared defiantly, rising from her seat.
Haifa considered herself a true inhabitant of Male'. In the few
instances she had visited the island, she had noted the scarcity of shops, with
an even smaller number of restaurants or cafes present. The majority of the
island's residents were engaged in employment at nearby resorts, while a
minority chose to stay behind. The primary sources of income for the locals
stemmed from fishing and the preparation of food-related products.
The most unpleasant memory she
retained was of the Indian-styled squat toilets. The initial encounter with
this unfamiliar fixture had left her utterly horrified. The idea of using such
a facility on a regular basis was completely beyond her comprehension. Just the
thought of it made Haifa shudder in distaste.
Her mother arched an eyebrow.
"And where do you plan on staying then?" she asked pointedly.
Haifa crossed her arms over her
chest and narrowed her eyes at her mother. At over twenty-four years old, she
was certainly capable of earning a living and renting a place for herself if
she chose to. She could even move in with the few family members who had
relocated to Male'. But her mother understood that Haifa couldn't fathom living
without her.
As the years passed, Haifa managed
to come up with various excuses to avoid visiting her home island. However, on
the few occasions when her mother did return there, she left Haifa with family
members. Haifa still vividly recalled the ache of longing she felt during those
times, the longing that had compelled her to beg her mother to return after
just a few days.
The way of life in the Maldives
closely resembled that of many South Asian countries, where families commonly
resided together under the same roof. While some more modern couples chose to
live separately after marriage, it was a rarity to live alone unless under
exceptional circumstances.
Haifa yearned to assert her
independence, to carve out her own path and life. But she couldn't even begin
to fathom being away from her mother. Her mother was her anchor, her reason for
living, the very essence of her existence. Haifa might have been many things,
but there was one thing she couldn't do – she couldn't let her mother go.
Gazing at her mother, Haifa found
herself pondering the life her mother had led. Nasreena had left her own home
in pursuit of a better education for Haifa, and within a few years, she had
experienced the heartbreak of losing her husband. Nasreena had never
entertained the idea of dating or looking at another man after that loss –
until Jalaal entered her life.
Jalaal had been a childhood friend
who had harbored feelings for her prior to her meeting Haifa's father. At that
time, Nasreena didn't share the same sentiments. However, they had reconnected
and kindled a romance a few years ago. Haifa found her mother's love story to
be endearing and beautiful, and she was grateful that her mother had found
happiness again.
"This isn't about Aseel, is
it?" Haifa inquired, casting a suspicious glance at her mother.
"Of course not," her
mother responded way too fast, smoothing the sleeve of her floral print cotton
dress.
Haifa threw her hands up in the air
in exasperation. "I knew it! I told you we're fine now. He had a moment of
weakness, he apologized, and I've forgiven him," she explained.
"People make mistakes, Mamma. We learn from them."
Her mother studied her intently for
a moment, and Haifa could feel her scrutinizing gaze. She understood her
mother's reasons for closely examining her on-again-off-again boyfriend of the
past six months. Haifa had met Aseel through a friend and had fallen head over
heels in love with him. In the beginning, Aseel hadn't shown much interest in
her, not even bothering to reply to her messages. It had taken a considerable
amount of effort to win him over, especially after rumors started circulating
about his infidelity.
Haifa had initially dismissed the
rumors, but that changed when she stumbled upon explicit messages sent to
another number. This led to a painful break between them, which had a negative
impact on her studies. However, she managed to retake her exams and achieve
better grades. Aseel eventually returned, asking for forgiveness.
"Aseel has changed; he's even
talking about finding a decent job," Haifa persisted in trying to convince
her mother. Her mother had been skeptical of Aseel from the start. When he
initially broke things off instead of owning up to his infidelity and
apologizing, her mother had expressed her disapproval. Even when Aseel
reentered her life, her mother had repeatedly advised her against giving him a
second chance.
"I love him, Mamma. You need to
accept that," Haifa retorted, her frustration evident in her tone. “You
are being very controlling if you believe taking me away from him would make me
forget him. We are meant for each other.”
"I've already shared my
perspective on Aseel, but the final decision rests with you. Moving to Vavathi
is an entirely separate matter," Nasreena said as she rose from her
seat, her disapproval now clearly visible on her face. "My decision is
final. I won't discuss this any further. We're leaving in two weeks."
Did you love the chapter, please let
me know your thoughts in the comments.
Have a wonderful day!
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