B A R A K A H (Ongoing)

- Possibly, Probably, Maybe.

20/04/2023.

Barakah

The rainy seasons bled out over the course of some months. During that time, she had celebrated a twenty-third birthday with her husband, son and family. A couple of days after, they had celebrated Farouk's fourth as well. Right before the start of his new school year. The first few weeks of his school life were brutal on her as it became apparent Farouk was especially fond of his bed in the mornings. Nothing like his father. To a point he would stomp all over the house, roaring and wailing.

Barakah had never experienced outbursts like that from him. So her reaction to him was taken aback, incompetence. He was lucky she was aghast to beating a child because of her own mother.

"For God's sake, get him to shut up. I'm trying to sleep in here." Ameenah, useless Ameenah bellowed from her room downstairs on a particular day Barakah felt she wanted to disappear and be forgotten by everyone than to endure another morning of Farouk being a kid.

"You're very useless." Barakah snapped back. Letting go of Farouk's hand, stepping away from him for a moment to tame her own rage before she did anything that would inflict self-disgust upon herself.

"You don't want to go to school?" She tried talking to him but he was too busy causing a scene. Holding her head in her palms.

"If you don't stop with this attitude I'll make sure you never see another tv again." Jalal had stepped in exercising a stony face, forcing the stomping boy to a halt by seizing his small arm.

Farouk was unrepentant, unrelenting even towards his father. Jalal carried him downstairs mid tantrum, "Stubborn as a mule. Go back to bed, I'll deal with him from now on. By the next Monday, he'll be tame as a house cat."

Barakah mouthed Jalal a 'thank you' and right after swallowing a painkiller, her head hit a pillow and by the next day, after Jalal had someone take out all the television in their house and totaled Farouk's screen time to zero, he for sure became tame as a house cat.

For an entire two weeks, all his father offered him to watch were educational shows. The punishment had curbed the kid temper he was beginning to develop.

"That boy is going to have a tendency for hot blood because he is mine. Look at his uncles, Usman and Kabir are walking chaos. Have an iron will with him or his bite will grow from a small nuisance to puncture wounds. Abba snapped my mouth shut before I could even begin to make out angry words." He had told her on a date night.

"What about your mother?"

"She learnt too. The hard way. No one could even advise her. I am her favorite child. That's why I'm telling you."

Barakah held her tongue.

"Say what's on your mind." He offered with a slight nod.

"You sound proud for being a difficult child."

"I wasn't difficult. I was the easiest child to please and satisfy but I was apt. Children learn their parents so you unsettle them. Shake up the pattern so they don't get comfortable enough to predict you. Farouk put new pressure on you that day because he had tested you over the weeks and you always pacified his wrong behavior."

"He's too little to think that big. And he's a decent kid. He eats well. He listens. He doesn't make messes. I was giving him time to adjust."

"My Amal, have you ever tried pottery?"

"I am familiar with it, yes. Zahra makes beautiful vases."

"Excellent." He mused leaning over the table to grab her hand, "As the clay is adjusting to become the structure you have in mind, your eyes are still on it and your hands surround it so it doesn't mould into something else. Farouk is the clay."