Before Our Dawn| ongoing

nine

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Drawing closer to land, the salty tang of the sea grew stronger, carried on a cool breeze that seemed to cleanse the air. The sky was a deep shade of blue, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. Her eyes were drawn to the bustling crowd of people on the docks, a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds that enveloped her senses. The language of Arabic filled the air, punctuated by the occasional French word. Berber tribesmen in their traditional garb to the French colonists in their crisp suits, everybody was here.

And yet, amidst the hustle and bustle, Isra's eyes scanned the crowd, eagerly searching for a familiar face - that of Haadi, the one person who made everything else seem to fade away. But he wouldn't be waiting for her at the dock, as he said in his letter. She would meet him later in the day after he returned from work at the office.

She watched as her father's brother, Khalil, and his wife, Fatima, approached them. Her uncle was a tall, thin man with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"Tarek!" Khalil greeted them warmly, embracing his brother and sister-in-law tightly before turning to Isra. "Welcome back. It's good to see you."

Fatima smiled at Isra, taking her hand in hers. She was a plump and matronly wife, juxtaposed to Isra's own slim and tall mother. "You've grown so much since we last saw you," she said, beaming at her. "And you look beautiful."

Isra blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at the compliment. "Thank you, Aunty," she said, her smile widening.

"You have a lot to tell us, Tarek," Khalil enthused, laughing joyously with her father. Her father, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the entire journey, looked exhilarated.

"How was the journey?" Fatima asked, fussing over Samia, who was looking a bit green around the gills.

"Long, but not too bad." She smiled gratefully at her brother-in-law and his wife. "We're just happy to be home."

"Of course, of course." Khalil took charge of their luggage. "Let's get you settled in at home and then we can catch up properly."

Khalil led them to his Renault and loaded their luggage, then they all piled inside and were on their way. Isra couldn't contain her excitement as the car hummed to life and they began their journey. She gazed out the window, taking in the familiar sights of the city she loved. The buildings and streets rushed by in a blur, each one holding a special memory for her. She felt as if she were rediscovering a long-lost friend, and the feeling was exhilarating. As the adults chatted away, Isra's mind wandered, lost in the beauty of the Algerian landscape.

It felt like they were in the car for far too long, but the ride also felt oddly short.

Khalil switched off the car engine and turned to Tarek. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

"This is it, mama! We're finally home!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Her father sighed deeply and looked at her sternly. "Don't forget why we're here, Isra. This is not just a vacation. You have a lot of catching up to do in your studies."

Her mother, trying to diffuse the tension, smiled at Isra. "Let her be excited, Tarek. She's been looking forward to this for months."

The three of them bid goodbye to Khalil and Fatima, exchanging a series of hugs and kisses with one another before they entered their car and drove off.

The architecture of their house was quintessentially Algerian, with a touch of French influence in the tall shuttered windows that overlooked the narrow, winding streets of the Casbah, and the terracotta-tiled roof. It stood tall and proud in the heart of the Casbah, with its intricately carved wooden shutters and wrought-iron balcony railings adding a touch of elegance to its façade. As Isra approached the entrance, she admired the way the sunlight filtered through the decorative metalwork on the door, casting intricate patterns on the ground.