1 the journey

It was the very first time that I was going to leave the family cocoon.

After months of negotiations, I was finally able to get my parents' agreement to go and continue my studies abroad.

Obtaining my scholarship had a lot to do with it. Indeed, I was a brilliant student.

One day, my school decided to offer a full scholarship and a half scholarship for Canada, to the two best of the establishment; I then applied with the utmost discretion; To my surprise, my application was accepted. I had never really felt the urge to travel. But that changed over time. I researched Canada and was amazed by this country. My future school was the kind of establishment reserved only for rich kids, children of the country's elites. My father, even working his whole life, would have been unable to afford my education. By the grace of God, I will be able to integrate this school, all expenses paid. I had done some research on the accommodations, but they were wonderful. However, I will share my studio with another student, scholarship requires. Indeed, the program that I must follow is the following: I will do the first (high school) at the start of the school year. Then, if I get my baccalaureate with an excellent mention, then I will be able to maintain my scholarship and choose the university that suits me.

The desire to live alone and discover new horizons began to come over me intensely.

I dreamed of it every night. And that day finally came. My parents demanded three things from me:

-Maintain my veil.

-Call every day.

-Return as soon as I have obtained my master's degree.

Where have my good manners gone? I haven't even introduced myself yet. My name is Zainab TALL. I come from a very religious and conservative family. From childhood, we had a Koranic teacher at home. At the age of seven, my mother began to put the veil on me, it was the same for my two little sisters: Aïcha and Fatima, when they were also seven years old.

Our parents had taught us that wearing the veil was compulsory in the Muslim religion. I'm sixteen today, and I still wear it. When I explain to my classmates why I always have a scarf on my head, it's the same question that comes up every time: "If you had a choice, would you take it off?" ". I have asked myself this question tons of times, but I have never been able to answer it. The veil has sentimental value for me. This is completely normal given that it has been an integral part of my life and has been since my earliest childhood.

I grew up with my parents and my sisters. My dad is a trader and travels a lot and my mom is a housewife. She never studied or worked. His parents had educated him by telling him that a woman's place was in her marital home; Her job is to educate her children and properly run her house. My mother had therefore contented herself with doing what was asked of her, until the moment I spoke to you. I don't remember ever seeing or hearing him challenge my father's authority. She constantly complies with his wishes. Sometimes I don't always agree with her. Every time I commented on this to her, she would tell me that

Mom had helped me pack my bags. She had knitted me lots of sweaters so as not to risk catching a cold, given the freezing climate of Canada. My little sisters were sad. We were united and had never been separated before.

I was the oldest and had to stand strong in front of her. But deep inside, I was terrified and sad. I was about to not only experience my first flight but also to find myself in a country where I didn't know anyone. I wasn't the type to make friends easily. I never had easy contact. Usually these are the people who come to me. I think that is also part of the reason why, I never tried to spontaneously go and strike up a conversation.

My two best friends, Juliette and Hawa had come to say goodbye to me. Unlike me, they both grew up in very modern families. They each respected their respective religions but without any pressure. They had the right to go out and had the obligation to come home at the time decided by their parents. I had never set foot at a party, whatever it was. The only public place I was allowed to go to was the library ...

With hardly an hour left before I got to the airport, my father asked me to come to the lounge. I didn't keep him waiting, although I already knew what it was:

-PAPA: Zainab, it's because we have confidence in you that we allowed you to go and live abroad, so please don't disappoint us. I will pray that the Good Lord will protect you from all forms of temptation. At the end of your training, we want you to come home because you are the bride of your cousin Abdallah. Remain a woman for him. I wish you every success. Know that our prayers are with you.

Here we go with that damn marriage story that I don't even have a say in. My father and his sister have decided by mutual agreement that I will marry Abdallah at the end of my studies. I hoped from the bottom of my heart that he could one day give up this absurd idea.

My parents hadn't had the heart to accompany me to the airport, let alone my sisters. It was Abdallah, my promised one who had proposed and that had delighted everyone except me. I don't like being forced on me. Choosing the man of your life is a personal choice. It is quite true that at a certain time, this was done a lot and these are marriages that only death could break. However, today things are very different. We are in 2017. And then, I do not see myself marrying someone for whom I have no feelings but who I have hardly dated.

Abdallah tried to strike up a conversation with me once in the car:

-ABDALLAH: So how do you feel to be away from your parents?

Just the fact that he opened his mouth made me want to sleep. He was mortally bored. The worst part of this whole thing is the fact that he was exactly the man his mother wanted him to be. He obeyed her with the finger and the eye. I remember the very first time my father decided he would be my husband. Believing that he would defend my point of view, I went to see him, trying to convince him to speak with his mother so that she would dissuade my father from doing so.

-ME: Abdallah, you must speak with your mother because you cannot marry me. Your mother and my father are siblings and on top of that, you will definitely fall in love with another woman and want to make her your wife.

-ABDALLAH: Listen to Zainab, don't take it the wrong way, but listen to your parents. All the decisions they make can only be of the greatest benefit to us.

-ME: When do you plan to finally get out of your mother's petticoats and make your own decisions? You are 20 years old Abdallah. This is not a life and besides you are a man. You have to make your own choices.

He immediately cut the discussion short. I finally realized that I couldn't count on his help.

I was silent the whole way to the airport.

He wanted to stay with me until my boarding time but I made it clear to him that it was not worth it. He shouldn't feel obligated. And then it would be to let me talk and just listen.

Abdallah was reluctant to leave me alone at the airport; I had to make it clear to him that I didn't need his company. So he finally made up his mind to go home; Before he said to me:

-ABDALLAH: Listen Zai, You are meant for me so I have to give you some advice. Women like you are naive. White people and we have diametrically opposed mentalities. Do not forget where you come from, do not forget all the values ​​that your parents instilled in you ...

-ME: Abdallah, my father has already made his speech. I really don't need you to add any! I am neither fooled nor naive. I am a woman of principle, even outside my native country. Start by becoming independent. Have a good trip and thank you for taking me.

Abdallah made a face that only I could decipher. It was as if to say that I do what I want. I'm sure you would have done the same for me. This man is unbearable. He lets himself be led by his mother like a baby.

I was sitting and wondering a lot of questions. How will it be on the plane? Would it be like in the movies? What if there is terrorism on board? I was stressing myself out and reassuring myself at the same time. Funny isn't it?

Forty-five minutes later, I was pulled from my thoughts by a voice:

-THE VOICE: Passengers on flight 736 bound for Canada are kindly requested to proceed to the departure lounge. Thank you

I repeat :

-THE VOICE: Passengers on flight 736 bound for Canada are kindly requested to proceed to the departure lounge. Thank you.

She repeated the sentence again, but in English this time. I then followed the other passengers. Once on the plane, I was sitting next to an elderly woman and a man who was almost my father's age. I dared not sleep. It was new to me. I quietly prayed that the trip would go well.

And here we go, Montreal I arrive In shA Allah!