Esha and Isa

Chapter 1

Present Day

I’m lost in the book where a girl is escaping from an execution. My eyes are glued to the words when I hear something. For a moment, I think it’s coming from the book.

“Mama!” I hear again. Shaking my head, I close the book and go to see what my son needs.

“I thought you were sleeping.” I say, a little annoyed.

“I was sleeping but then I woke up and you weren’t next to me.” He explains. I lay down next to him, kissing his forehead.

“Go to sleep Isa.”

“Don’t go now.” He says holding onto me.

“Okay.” I whisper. I rub little circles on his head to make him sleepy. Soon, I can see his chest steadily rising and falling meaning he’s asleep.

People found it strange that I gave my son the same name as his father. For me, it was the perfect name for him. Before he was born, I knew I wanted to name him Isa so he could be just like his father. I wanted him to have the same character as him and even look the same as him. He inherited his father’s skin colour and hair but other than that, he looked like me and my mum.

I fall asleep after him and wake up to the Adhaan (call for prayer) being called in the morning. This was one of the reasons I didn’t want to move back to the west. I loved being awoken to the adhaan being called so loudly and clearly. Isa resumes sleeping as I get up to do my wudhu (ablution).

I don’t go to sleep after that. I do all the housework by the time I have to wake Isa for school. Only now I could really appreciate how much Isa’s father helped me before. There just seemed to be so much work to do and it never ended. Cooking, cleaning, ironing, washing, drying and more. Every few hours, the electricity went too making things a tad bit harder.

“Isa wake up, you’re going to be late for school.” I say rushing into the room with his ironed clothes. He grunts in response and rolls over, still asleep. Just like his father. “Isa!” I say shaking his leg.

“I don’t want to go to school.” He responds.

“Come on! I don’t have time for this!” He likes school; he just doesn’t want to wake up. It usually takes him an hour or so to freshen up and then he’s active all day until it’s time for bed. I pull him into a sitting position and he rubs his eyes. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the light. Then he makes his way to the bathroom.

I put out the breakfast I prepared earlier and wait for Isa to come from the bathroom. He takes a long time and I suspect he might have fallen asleep on the toilet seat but I don’t say anything. He’s still sleepy until he finishes his breakfast and gets some energy.

I secure my niqaab and throw my bag over my shoulder. As I walk out of my house, I’m greeted by my neighbour who lives opposite me. Their family has helped me through so much. I feel indebted to them.

“Asalamu’alaykum Esha.” The elderly woman says opening the gate of her house.

“Wa’alaykumsalaam.” I reply. Her teenage son comes out with his motorcycle.

“Isa!” He says giving him a high five. “Want to go school with me?” Isa looks up at me pleadingly. Hesitantly I agree.

“Shayaan, be careful okay. Don’t go too fast.” I warn him.

“Baji (sister) I’ve taken him so many times.” He says rolling his eyes.

“I know but you can’t blame me. I’m a mother.” I say defensively.

“I know.” He replies picking Isa up and placing him on the motorcycle.

“Isa, hold on tightly okay?” I warn. Isa nods at me and they zoom off. “Slowly!” I shout after them. I look back at aunty who shakes her head. Then she smiles and waves as I make my way to school alone.

I reach the little school Isa’s father and I helped build for the local village children. It’s where I teach and it’s one of the reasons I settled in this place. I enter and my heart warms to see my little Isa playing amongst the children. I walk to my two best friends, Inayah and Hadia, and say salaam.

“You haven’t forgotten have you?” Hadia asks. I didn’t know what they were talking about, so I must have forgotten. Seeing my blank expression, they shake their heads as if they expected this.

“Our get-together after school, I have some good news to share.” Inayah reminds me.

“Oh yes, of course. Now I remember!” Whenever the three of us have any good news to share, we always meet up when school is over.

So after a long hot day of teaching young children, Inayah, Hadia and I meet up. Isa was the only child in the school to call them aunty instead of miss.

“Are we going to KFC aunty?” Isa asks. KFC is around twenty minutes away and we have to take a rickshaw. I usually love going there and I still found rickshaws fun but I’m not in the mood. It was too hot for greasy foods. Besides, Isa only loves to go there because of the little playground it has.

“We’re going to my house today.” Inayah says apologetically. “Next time, in’sha’allah.” (If Allah wills it). Isa frowns but I nudge him and glare through my niqaab. He receives my message and puts on a smile. “I’ll buy you some kebabs on the way though.” Isa’s fake smile turns into a real one. He loves kebabs.

We make our way to Inayah’s house, which is only a ten minute walk away, stopping once to buy some freshly made kebabs. When we reach her house, Inayah’s next door neighbour shoots us a disapproving glance and I hold Isa’s hand tighter. We enter after Inayah to her empty home. Her husband’s at work and her children are still at school. She goes to get us even more food, as if the kebabs aren’t enough. I follow to help her and she tries to shoo me away but I’m stubborn. I love how everyone likes to feed so much food to their guests here.

We go back to where Hadia and Isa are sitting with trays of food. Isa’s occupied with Inayah’s parrot, trying to get it to speak.

“So what’s the good news?” Hadia asks eagerly.

“Well, you know my little sister Ruqaiya?” We nod, urging her to go on. “She’s finally agreed to getting married.” We all squeal in delight and congratulate her.

“Tell us, who’s the lucky man?”

“We kind of knew a little about him before and he met my father at the mosque recently. My father liked his character and asked Ruqaiya what she thought of him. She didn’t know what to think but decided to go with her gut instincts and at least meet him once. She did so and now she’s getting married!” Inayah tells us with a huge grin on her face.

I smile and look down, remembering when my dad first mentioned Isa’s father to me.