The school yard was quiet this day. The beaming sun rays laid brutally across the asphalt ground. The heat was too harsh for anybody to be outside. The news reported it to 99˚F (37˚C) but feels like a blazing 102˚F (38˚C). All the children stayed inside the building for their recess, residing within the dining hall. Although they had no space to play around and enjoy their everyday games, they all found ways to entertain themselves while the slow burning time passed on by. But while the students were among themselves, there was one child enjoying a quite engaging book.
Inside a quiet classroom, sat Abdul tuning in into a fairly new book of his growing collection. "Lord of the Flies" was the book. Once again receiving it from his friend down in Cairo, he finds himself again glued to the fascinating pages about young boys seeking survival on a deserted island. The classroom he was in at that time was of his favorite teacher, Mullah Khalil.
Mullah Khalil is a newer teacher at the school. A young man in his late twenties, he has dedicated his life into spreading the teachings of foreign knowledge to children of the countryside. Being from the town himself, Khalil has travel vast across the world to many countries learning of different cultures and languages. He is now teaching all that he knows to the children of the school, especially to Abdul.
Abdul shows off his new book to the Mullah. He does what he always do when encounter by someone with a book in hand, babble on and on about the book in question and not stopping until his very last breath. Khalil is although fine with this regular action, as for he is the very first person, if not his mother, Abdul comes to show off his newfound possession.
"Did you know the author, William Golding, wrote his novel as a counterpoint to the 1857 novel 'The Coral Island' by R. M. Ballantyne. I haven't read it yet, but François said that he was going to get a copy for me."
The Mullah can proudly see the glimmer thatshined within Abdul's eyes as he talked; every time and every day, whenever thetwo are conversating among each other. They go beyond the average talk of thedaily lessons being taught and learned at the local school. Khalil knows thatAbdul is special, intelligent and highly advanced to be stuck here within thiscage. Seeing the potential of the young student, the Mullah stops the child middleof his chatter, and goes on to explain a new discovery he found himself.
"Abdul, you're fourteen, right? It's almost time for you to be looking for a secondary school soon. Have you chosen one yet?"
He answered back with a confused no, wondering why the Mullah would be asking that type of question to him. He states that he would go to the same local school as everyone else. Continuing on Abdul tells Khalil that he has no other choice but to go there as well.
Khalil reassures that Abdul does have a choice and he should choose a school out of town, a school that would offer him more and better education than the ones in town. He tells the student that the schools out there are full of children like himself. With an immense love for literature, a great interest in different cultures, and a towering obsession with learning.
"The schools out there are totally different then the ones here, Abdul. They actually offer you something, teach you about the world around, and let you explore the possibilities that lives out there."
He shows the child a pamphlet for this French international school located in Cairo. Khalil tells Abdul that before coming here he work at the international school for a couple of years.
The name of the school is Lycée La Liberté Héliopolis. Located in Heliopolis, Cairo, Egypt, the French international school is one of the ancient schools within the city. Founded in 1937 by the Mission Laïque Française, this school offers education in both Arabic and the French language. Students from across the country travel far and wide to attend a school like one other.
"This is a school for you, Abdul. A school where you can advance. A school where you can learn." Mullah Khalil spoked.
Hesitated about the offer at first, Abdul begins to think. At early age, he was already advancing at a higher level than his peers. By two, he knew all of the Arabic alphabets and could count up to 100. And do advance math equations. Once in primary school, his reading level was that of a college student. Abdul has always been the one known for his sheer intelligence, but this has caused many problems for the young one. For years in school, he has always been the outcast, the one left "behind". Left out of groups, look down upon by his peers, and many more barriers Abdul had face within school. Learning of this new opportunity given to him at the right time, he begins to agree with Mullah Khalil. His schools, his own town has held back from reaching his true potential of learning more about the world around him.
Then, an aching thought came hammering down on the back of Abdul's head. Although able to overcome the barriers placed at school, the biggest wall he now has to face is with his parents, mainly his father. He explains his now ill-fated situation to Khalil, stating the likelihood of his father siding with this plan is non-existent.
But at last, Mullah Khalil once again reassures Abdul about his predicament, and says he would handle everything and talk to his parents. Although uncertain about newfound solution to his problem, Abdul leaves the worries in the Mullah hands, and hopes for the best outcome.
The night sky fell pitch black that evening. Glistening stars hanged high in the sky that night, with the crescent moon looking polished as the dense clouds passed by. Within the Abdul's household, it was the regular scene that goes on everyday as usual. Abdul is at the dinner table doing homework, the mother is slaving over the stove to prepare dinner, and the father is laying out in the living room drinking once again.
Although done, Abdul still sits there, blank, with his head full of too many racing thoughts. How would his parents react? What would they say? Would they say yes or no? All these questions alike ran laps around Abdul's brain. He was terrified to even bring it up in conversation. He knew if he told his mother; she would agree with him. But his father was a different story.
A conservative man, Abdul's father holds onto traditional values and believes solely into roles played by both man and woman. He sees a man should provide for his family and see the only to do so is by working. As for women are best suited within the house caring for the family. That is what Abdul's father wants for him. To be able to provide for his future family and keep the tradition alive. So when it comes to school, Abdul's father sees no significant value to the concept. In reality, unannounced to Abdul, his father already has a plan for his unforeseen future.
The table is set, dinner is hot and ready. The entire family is all sitting at their designated seats. The mother starts off the conversation, asking both the father and Abdul about their day. The father begins, going in depth about his time down at the shop and how business is going. Not even touching a single silverware utensil, Abdul holds his head down, shadowing over his plate. Noticing the look of distress on his face, the mother turns the conversation over to Abdul. With her soft, gentle voice, she ask the child was there anything bothering him or did something happen today. Abdul respond.
"Well, I was taking to Mullah Khalil today. A-And he told me that I should really be looking into secondary schools soon, since I'm almost fifteen."
He continues on and explain about the international school, and how it would be a best option for him. He tells his parents of the many opportunities a school like this can offer to a child like himself.
Silence fills the room for a second. The air around them became dense and thick. Nothing could be heard beside the calling of the chickens out back. The mother looks over to Abdul. She could see the utter angst Abdul held onto his face while talking to them. She knew from an early start that Abdul was special, unique in the sense of the things. The town they lived in had nothing to really offer to Abdul, she knew if he were to discover his true calling, it would be in a school like so. Ultimately, the mother agrees. Stating it would be a good change of pace for the young child.
The father, on the other hand, had a different respond to this. He looks over to Abdul. Seeing his relief and happiness from his mother answer, he knew, deep down, it was time to break that and come out with his plan in mind. Having not told even the mother this plan, he knew that this was the right moment.
"You're not going to that French school out there. You're not going to any school after this."
Confused, Abdul asks why. What could he mean by this?
"You coming down to Cairo and helping me with the shop for now on. I think it's time for you learn about the business and one day take over after me.
Both shocked, Abdul and his mother just stares intently at the man. Their eyebrows furrowed deeply into their face, with a baffled look onto them. Still confused, Abdul asks why once more. With a stern, deep bass to his voice, his father said roughly
"Because I said so, and that's finally! Now finish up your food before it gets cold."
Lost at words, Abdul is left shocked at this new revaluation. A dark, obsidian-like pit begins to form inside his chest. Abdul lowers his head and says nothing nor does anything. Not touch his food or drink. Abdul is left there empty.
"If you not going eat, go clean up and head off to bed then.", his father told him.
He excuse himself and heads to his room. He holds them in longer. Moving from the chair, leaving the kitchen, heading upstairs, and right until he reach his room's door. Once inside, Abdul couldn't hold on any longer. The flow of the salty tears ran vigorously down the boy's face. Huffing and puffing, gasping for air, Abdul just fell out on the bed across. He stuff his blood red face into the flat pillow, suffocating the hollow screams he yelled out softly.
Behind him, his beloved friend came out; to provide comfort to Abdul in his down state. With fire blazing from both their arms and legs, they ease the flame carefully and lay there beside the one he call master. Abdul turns his tears-soaked face over to his dear friend and thanks him for being there for him. He rises from his bed and wipe away the tears.
Unexpectedly, the door cracks open. A shadow appears on the ground from the light shining brightly from the hallway outside. Thankfully for Abdul, it was his mother. She could easily tell form the position of the drench pillow that her child had been crying. She close in on the bed, sat right near Abdul. The mother rest her hand on his warm cheek, caressing it ever so tenderly. She wipes away the dry tear stains that laid heavily on his face.
"La bas habibti. Everything's going to be okay." The mother said warmly.
The single touch and voice of his mother was able to calm Abdul down. She being to tease him a bit, poking fun that she wasn't leaving until she gets a smile. Although still upset about the outcome, he could resist but to smile with his mother around. Showing all of young yellowish type teeth, Abdul showcase a big smile to his mother. Calm now, knowing that her child is at peace at least, she goes foreword and kiss his forehead lovely, and tell him to get ready for bed. The mother leaves, closing the door behind.
All that was left in the room was the darkness that stood around the small, illuminated light of Abdul's friend, hovering from above.
Translation Note:
La bas habibti- It's okay, sweetie