Spoiler alert: this part is too emotional and comedy might get too dark for people who worn't traumatized as kids (yes it starts now).
it's funny that I'm dedicating an entry for only 3 years of my childhood, most people would jump their whole childhood in one entry or else the audience will stop reading out of sheer boredom (unless the audience constructed of bored parents seeking to understand their children) however I provide you here with a Fucken Jumanji adventure! and considering that fact that you're all quarantined and bored, I'm doing a favor to society.
This time I won't be the narrator, someone else will be.. a 70 year old Libyan man with white hair and Asian features (the Irony that I grew up to have Asian features too even though we're not blood related), a person that taught me how to be the man I am now, or the man part that shares the floor with the woman in my gender-fluid identity, so I leave the stage for him to tell you what happened after the boring Nine years upon my arrival to this world:
"Ruja (He used to call me with this weird nickname) was a timid child, polite and smart I'd say. She used to recite Quran by heart (sorry not sorry but I'm an atheist now) and she had high grades at school so I bragged about it in front of my friends, I toke her with me everywhere I went when she became old enough, I think I was so happy to finally have her in this age.. I tried to be as protective as I could, however I never thought the outside world wasn't the problem. I had my business and I had to be away most of the workdays, when she became 10 she became more and more timid and she stopped opening to me! my wife mentioned that she's mostly fighting with her older brother all the time nowadays, and my wife is ill, so she can't resolve their issues or see what's happening between them.
My niece however moved to live downstairs and I hope she could be a good company to Ruja. I didn't know why she became more aggressive that year, she shut us all out and spent more time in the mosque and came late from school. I couldn't push her to talk so I let it be. I never thought
that one day I would have to be in this situation.. upon discovering why she was so timid and sad. her step brother was molesting her and non of us caught the signals to that! I couldn't stand the rage I felt then, and knowing that my wife's reaction was "don't make a scene about it, you know our society, she's a girl an...." I just couldn't stand the whole disaster. I felt for my baby daughter and what she went through throughout a whole year. I tried my best to be present at home and do my business from home and of course I punished my own son upon what he did but I couldn't stop the feeling that I was a part of this (No you're not.. you never knew.. but she knew and decided to cover up for him).
I was so thankful because she trusted me enough now to tell me everything, she would never shy off telling me if anyone tried to touch her in an inappropriate way (and I'm so lucky for this.. actually it is me who is thankful). she became more lively and became herself again. she grew up to be a wholesome teenage "girl?". actually she wasn't that stereotypical girl. she liked to play and hang with her male cousins and catch their attitudes.. it's kind of sad to see them excluding her the older she gets (mostly because they had fragile masculinity daddy, kinda sad you're not here now to tell you what that sociological term means) maybe because she wasn't that close to her mother, at all actually, I rarely saw them interacting since the incident. The revolution hit the country and her Mom became more ill and couldn't leave the bed, Ruja was a brave child to stay with her Mom in her last days in the hospital, schools were shut at that time anyway so she could at least bond more with her mom before she hits the road to the great light.. On march 8th 2011 her Mom let go of life and Ruja was all alone at home with her when it happened (hell yeah if that explains my death phobia, wow this blog is my way to being a therapist.. more income!) I loved my wife so much. she has been my wife for 50 years almost after two unsuccessful marriages (kinda gives me hope that my love life would work one day).. time flies so fast.. a whole year passed and Ruja was growing older and older, she toke care of me and her brother well and I don't know if she actually found it in her to forgive him for what he did. but the year passed and I was so tired.. 72 years are a lot.. I traveled the world and had enough of what life can give me. I don't want to leave Ruja yet but I think it's not my choice to make. On March 8th 2012 (yup, the coincidence is so poetic) my heart decided to give away beating. out of sheer sudden. no chance to say goodbye. I was napping on Ruja's bed after lunch as usual and it hit me. I don't know where she is now but I know I raised a wholesome creature (with a ton of insecurities) and I'm proud of her however she grew up to be. because I love her."
This entry is dedicated to the one and only. March is you. Mr. Aboujila Milad. May you watch over me forever. And now I should let go too.
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