Small steps, big battles

"That which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

made weak by time and fate,

but strong in will to strive, to seek,

to find and not to yield."

~ from Ulysses

.

Epiphany, an eureka moment. sparks and truth were bouncing off the white walls of the room with impeccable ceilings. the smell of thoroughly cleaned disinfected floors, the silver tray with sterilized theatre equipment about to be used on her, she knew it was where she wanted to be.

The surgery was scheduled for less than thirty minutes hence she had only been given painkillers not sedatives. Lying in a blue hospital gown with nothing put panties underneath, the nurse had put a syringe through her cheek, the cold thin metal pierced till it was stuck in her gum, Salima took her tongue to feel the needle as it was been drawn out her mouth. she got a couple more injections and she pinched her skin to test if she could still feel any sensation of pain and yes she did. didn't the pain killers work on her?

she wanted to tell maybe her blood rejected it but it was late as she had already been ushered into the main operating room. coming in view was a long leather bed and five people standing beside it like guarding the post, whenever she heard of surgeons she had only thought of masculinity, but in it were women, three of them and two men, one of the two who was the assisting nurse.

Salima's grin was wide, they smiled back, it was not a common occurrence to see patients smile in theaters but these people, impressed by the courage of the eleven year old who seemed to be more of happy to be there, they gave her encouraging smiles as they laid her on the stretch bed, her head getting strapped to it.

"don't worry, we'll be done before you know it. It will pain but I know you can, just don't blink when the equipment is in your eye. Ok? You don't want to lose that pretty doe eye" Salima nodded at the woman. she was the eye specialist that had been consulted for the painless growth under her right eye. it was the woman who had told her parent Salima would have to undergo minor surgery to get the growth that could harm her sight removed, Chalazion she called it. her eye was forced open, the flesh of her lower eyelid turned out and clipped with forceps. Salima felt the sting of very new sharp blade slicing the flesh there open and the flesh dug into, through her blurred bloodied eye, Salima saw creamy solid things getting pulled out. The other surgeon viewed what Salima assumed was already a deeply opened cut that reached her outer skin with a torch, the light blinding her vision, burning her wound.

"It's still in there, if it is not removed totally, it grows again" Salima was mortified, she thought it was about to be over but her bad, the most painful part of the process was being repeated, the digging. her flesh was getting drilled and she grasped the bed tight about to shut her eye, about to scream, the pain was unbearable. to hell with painkillers, they didn't work on her.

"courage, courage. open it, we're almost done" they implored her as she had lost control and shut her eye. there was blood in her vision, she needed just a break from the pain, some seconds to collect herself and she opened again. She hadn't cried at all, shutting her eye was the only pain response she had given in to despite all her nerves were begging her to run. they called her strong but she knew they thought it was the painkillers working, they didn't know it was her high endurance for pain coupled with her will. it was the spark she had gotten from those women, the strength she drew from them that they were masters of their craft that had sustained her. It didn't matter that loads of cotton wool had been soaked up with her blood and ointments poured into her fresh wound. It didn't matter she couldn't walk on her own afterward and had been attended to by a woman nurse who had worn her clothes for her. It didn't matter the pity looks she got from people who looked at such a small girl being helped out of the theatre with a bandaged eye.

It didn't matter that her mother's sympathy for her had only lasted that day and the next and she was already expected to resume the house chores she had been excused from. It still didn't matter that her mother didn't treat her predicament better than she would react to a scratch on Iman and her father was more worried of the money that left his pocket than her fostering wounds, Salima was grateful, for all that mattered was the present, in her lab coat, like those specialists who had given her her moment of realization. Salima was strolling back to her lodge room from practicals. She hadn't bothered to take off her lab coat as she relished the evening weather. The sun was down, it was the longer night season and at 6:15 it looked already like night. It was intentional she took the lone road, the footway leading to her destination lined on the side with wild flowers, untrained grasses that gave it wild kind of aesthetic under dusk. It was clean and quiet - a definition of what she imagined to be ethereal abodes. the lit train of school buildings that were so far back twinkled, distant lights silhouetted against the evening sky and it did her mood good to look at it. looking around to be sure no one saw her, Salima twirled and danced on her toes waving her hands in the air, she was elated, spirits high.

She counted her blessings, how every misfortune had turned out to be a fortune. she hadn't been shortlisted for accommodation from the school and had been devastated about having no option but to stay with her uncle until getting a call from Anisa that they could share a lodge with one more girl within school premises if she wanted. Salima hadn't thought twice before saying yes, the room had cost extra money but was worth the privacy and peace. A bonus for her, she had two cool roommates.

Every break of day was the eagerness to rise from slumber, it was enough that the distance from her mother and sister helped their ties, they were easier to relate with from afar, she liked her sister better talking through screen. she called her mother when she could though it didn't last longer than two minutes, there was no guilt on her as she had no wish to see them in physical anytime soon.

Life was still meanders but with softer bends, she lived her own terms, there was no one to nag her out of sleep, make her drudge over chores and go to sleep exhausted, waking up to the same routine, routines that broke even the strongest spirits. She had so much time on her hands and she spent it aside being in class visiting the library, her spirit aligned with the long array of books that weighted the shelves of the quiet large building. Some evenings with a few friends, she would sit in school gardens and listen to them talk about a lot of things. she liked that the breeze would be tender and playful, filling her ears along with their discussion of everything from school to politics, all that entailed the intricacies of life. Amidst those flowers, Salima would feel her senses unload, the air was fresher,cleaner. nature was an ally, her love for it was one that she hadn't tried hard to cultivate, it was as natural as nature itself. Other times when she was free, Anisa who is daughter to the land would drag her along to explore the city trying new foods and later they would window shop in big stores eyeing the pricey fancy things they couldn't afford yet. the days were cherished by her and Salima willed to see more of the world than the one she had known.

It wasn't everyone life granted the luxury of paradise, fingers were not equal. some were born to toil, toil more than others especially if their lineage's sins had rubbed off on them but she'll make do with what she had. Gratitude and contentment was a coffer that never ran empty, with the quality combined one could live life like every day was a present to be unraveled, every test was to grow stronger than obstacles. with a thankful heart even palaces could be carved out of huts.

Salima knocked and Anisa had answered the door almost immediately.

"were you waiting for me?" caught off guard, Salima hadn't expected such swiftness in being welcomed back in her abode.

" Nah, I expected you'll sleep there, I was only on my way to dispose this" she showed Salima an old newspapers stained with oil before dumping in the small bin at the threshold.

" we had to do diagrams for each specimen. I'm not even done with labelling." Salima walked in, flinging her bag first before dropping her weight against the row of boxes bringing out her lab manual.

"and you'll do all of that before eating? aren't you hungry?" Anisa was bewildered.

" I would only eat peacefully when I know I have no obligations after it aside to pray and sleep.

I've already wasted too much time on the drawings to not be done with it once and for all"

" everything you feel manifests in your face. how do you think I know you haven't eaten. You're starved, just look at you." Anisa's tone was almost pleading. " Ok, I'll help with the labelling" she offered.

"Really! thank you very much" Salima was quick to dump the book in her hands before piling her plate with spaghetti. she rummaged the basket looking for only God knows what.

"what are you looking for?"

Her roommates found her desperation puzzling.

"Cutlery" came her reply as she was still seriously digging into the well arranged plates.

"There are dozens of clean spoons. you should have found one of them by now." Bushra that was her other roommate chipped.

" I don't eat spaghetti with spoon. It ruins the taste for me" to Salima spoons were for the shorter grains, forks for pasta and her hands for swallows, it irked her perfectionist spirit to mix them up.

" I don't think you're actually hungry. You could barely allow the food heat up and you're wasting time looking for a specific cutlery" Anisa was sarcastic. "you honestly have a problem"

" Ahaa, found it" Salima finally sat before her food placed on a stool, she forgot table manners as she wound plentiful pasta round the cutlery, taking in forkfuls after forkfuls.

"You're this hungry and you wanted to finish your lab work, what if I hadn't offered to help "

"I could have done it myself before eating but I'm glad you asked to help. for every ease you make for another person, God makes ease for you too and don't worry, I never forget to repay favors" she said mouth full of food.

" just shut your mouth and eat already please" Anisa scolded

"besides I'm not doing this for repayment but it might come in handy to be a little manipulative"

Anisa wriggled her brow like the devil that you shouldn't dine with with a short spoon.

" forgive my manners" Salima detested noisy eating too so she ate quietly knowing how ticked off she got by it.

"I heard if you wanted to major in surgery you'll be tested first with dissecting lizards, at least that way they know who can" Anisa's humor never got stale and Salima was almost bursting, dropping her empty plate as she viewed Anisa neatly fill out the labelling of the reptile's skin cells.

"same way I heard if you wanted to be expert in computer, you'll have to know disintegrating the whole computer system to motherboard and fixing it back in one piece" Salima too could be funny if she wanted.

"We sure do hear interesting rumors about our disciplines"

"Really funny rumors"

"but honestly I imagine people who have the brain to read the computer language. all those ands, ors, programming software bla bla. people who design webs, those are the real big brains" Salima could consider herself Luddite,she hated to think of how technologies worked.

" technology is scary. like how do computers save, send, transfer files from one system to another. Where do deleted files go. How the hell does the internet work. how do remotes change the channels. I don't want to even start thinking of NASA and all their breakthroughs"

"It only sounds scary but doesn't measure up to cutting and sewing someone back up" Anisa never failed to express how much she thought people who choose medicals as gutty. after people who faced warfronts, medicals were next.

"It's not easy but once learned you know you have to avoid tampering with veins and vital organs. it's something you see not some unseen man explained magic" technology would always look like sorcery to Salima.

"Same way thinking of the mechanism of the human body, how it works is scary too, our bodies are made up of organs which are in turn made up of billions of cells, working cells. they all know their functions and never mix up, how do they know too? thinking deep about everything that exists would make you mad, just save your brain strength."

Anisa stopped to get her label lines straight.

"And medicals have a lot to do more than brains. It is more of brawns. You can imagine people who have the solid minds to view mutilations, severed body parts, infections on people that might be really gross. Imagine all those long hour shifts. I should mention surgeries that last hours without rest.

Seeing people give up their souls before your eyes, you're at the other side of death pulling with it a tug of war, you see and you're reminded of just how you could be the one in those patient shoes. being in the medics never fancied me because just everyday you see death and are this close to it" Anisa held her her thumb and index finger just inches from touching. "It is for the strongest minds" concluding with finality, she erased an error she made while labelling.

Salima was strong in mind and head but weak in physical. her mind approved but her physique challenged it, pushing her towards softer roles but she never wanted anything soft, it best suited her like that to shoulder the harder things. the bigger the task, the more fulfilled she would be with a job that would be her universal niche. Her heart was weak, she didn't know if she was born with it but with any strenuous move it would cramp, real painful cramps. With every turn, she would feel it out of place. Standing longer than an hour got her head spinning followed with difficulty breathing. she hardly had the spine to view blood without digested food reaching the juncture of her throat.

She knew the day when the sight of blood first swore an aversion to her. those echoes tearing through the silent night on the day her sister had been destined to come to the world. Salima was three almost four ruffled out of sleep by her mother's screams. She had watched her mother frantic, running and resting at intervals, she wriggled like worm holding her rounded abdomen.

It was only them two and her mother had ordered her to get her phone. Salima smart on her toes had been quicker than a rat in getting the mobile phone and dialling her baba's number,she knew it offhand. She placed it at her mother's ears and hearing the automated voice reiterate 'switched off' her mother flung the phone.

Her father had always had the disgusting habit of disappearing on them, even faster than phantoms. he crept like a shadow, making himself untouchable with how secretive he was with them, only what he permitted them to know and see of him. He slithered in and out like a slimy snake, he hated to be held to account for anything regarding them,

Salima knew in later years that both of them had the skill of running, of hating responsibility. they liked to leave their messy trails to be cleaned up by other people. She had succumbed to the knowing that surviving a family like hers was either you joined them by being like them or you bore the cross of their sins, dying many deaths before you are dead.

She had feared for her mother's life that day. she was in pain, a deluge of red liquid flowing between her legs. her screams helped nothing, she was wise to rest her mother's head on a pillow, it was the only thing her young mind could think.

And when her mother saw no help was to come, she discarded her soiled underwear and pushed hard. Clueless, Salima had watched and cried, then there was a head of black shimmering hair, a small shoulder wading through blood and a small pink-skinned creature landing on the bare floor, with loud wails and her aggression questing for her first air, it left Salima with no doubt her mother had given birth to herself.

In the dark night and half moon, Salima had raced for help, waking other adults they shared their apartment with up.

Aside that she remembered her mother being arranged to be taken to the nearest hospital, all the event that came after was blurred. her father had appeared out of oblivion at the hospital, despite her mother had cursed him for her predicament in his absence she switched persona in front of him, it only took him an obvious lie, fake apology and smile to turn her mother's thinking 360 degrees. She smiled sheepish, and tried hiding her red face like a shy lover, it disgusted forty-six-months old Salima. her father wasted no time in making calls to relatives, they came over to congratulate, and her mother too didn't waste time to lie about how agitated her father had been for her.

She lied, hoarsely, shamelessly and Salima dared not open her mouth to oppose. To tell the world they were rotting on the inside.

Her mother didn't for once mention her and her significance shrunk in her father's presence as he took all the praise, all the adoration and shoulder pats. She didn't want any praise, she only wanted to be seen, like she existed too. Salima wasn't even part of the celebration as she was left to herself in a corner in the hospital room, she watched her father play the heroic husband role perfectly, checking now and then at the infant and giving relatives and friends 'the responsible man smile'.

She could have been three and ten months old but she remembered, her dull response and how they had nudged her to hold the baby and pretend she was happy too.

In their lies, hypocrisy. Remembering the day, She had swore to never be like her mama, who could smile like that at a man who could've left her to die with an infant that was formed from them both.

Salima remembered watching her father's hypocritic laughter holding Iman, emphasizing a non existent happiness of an addition to their tall undone chores, her mother's desperation at any thing that looked like kindness that came from him was still etched in her memory.

at the times people watched them, in the eyes of the world they were the perfect family and played the act well to maintain the facade, their happy lie. Her mother's baby was just a prop, a proof that her husband still desired her to even get her pregnant. It was a silent response to those people who had said she was too much of a horrifying woman for any man to stick around her. Iman was her trap, a lie she told herself that she was very much wanted by her man. Iman too was a victim, she too was a thing meant to serve a purpose. Her mother never loved people for their human value, she only loved what they served her.

Salima played the thumb of her baby sister, she promised they would be friends, the real thing in their fake life, she had promised she would never turn her back, she would never run if her sister needed her yet fate had denied her and she swallowed painfully all her promises that never made it past her throat.

The next week of Iman's birth they posed for the cameras, to the world as the perfect happy family. Her father was the dutiful man and her mother the beloved wife. Salima only genuinely smiled when her infant sister was in her hands, she still didn't forget and would hardly forgive what they had made of her baby sister, with her too and worse still, how they had left her scarred for life of the sight of blood.

Anisa was done with the diagrams, and salima cleared up after her, it was time for evening prayers.

"about repaying favors, my cousin's getting married next weekend and I want you and Bushra to come"

Anisa looked between them two as they remained on the Musallah reading supplications. Bushra was giddy with excitement, Salima's eyes were bare of any expression.

"ofcourse I would love to." It had been seven years since Salima last attended any wedding. It was a strong dislike for the place where she saw people get joined together to forever dwell in the pit of hell. Marriage was always hell.

"If you refuse this one, I wouldn't waste any minute labelling you unfit for societal relations"

" I had said I would" she reiterated to Bushra.

When emperors conquered territories they started from the small ones, small fights are won first before the bigger battles. She would take her pain one by one and choke the life out of them and she would start with one at a time, weddings first.

"by the way, when is the wedding?"