Nodding at the smiling airhostess, I stepped out the plane, my mind in turmoil. I went through all the formalities robotically, barely registering what I was doing, my mind on one thing only.
Glancing through the crowd of happy families, greeting their loved ones with joy, hugging and talking excitedly, hurt. Because I knew that my welcome would be nothing like that.
Tearing my eyes away from the happy families, I dropped my gaze to the ground and clamping a headset on my ears, I turned the volume up as I walked away.
Picking up my head I moved my eyes over the crowd, searching.
I sighed, frustratedly looking down again, as I began walking towards the exit. ‘Of course they wouldn’t come,’ I berated myself, ‘Why did you think they would anyway?’
Because of the music blasting in my ears, I failed to hear the only person who was there for me call me, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Before I could register properly who it was, she was hugging me tightly.
But I hugged her back, because at that moment a hug was all I wanted. Pulling back, she held me at arms length as she surveyed me from head to toe, before hugging me tightly once more.
“Woah! Sammy, this was too long,” She exclaimed.
A smile found its way to my face as I nodded genuinely excited to see her.
“I know.” I answered laughing lightly at her excitement as I linked arms with her.
She glanced around us her eyes sparkling. “So how was your stay?” she asked.
“It was awesome,” I answered softly, “away from things that irritate me back here.”
She seemed to suddenly remember something as she took a full 360, turning slowly as she searched. Her face fell as she looked at me, the sparkle in her eyes replaced with sympathy, her eyes boring into mine questioningly.
I shook my head, understanding what she meant, then laughed. “Don’t bother Kadju, I’m fine.” I said, though it did bother, because it had been almost six month’s. Sure I may have got an occasional letter, but nothing more. The least they could do was at least come!
“Okay, I’ll drop you then?” She asked.
Once in the car, she glanced at me with a small smile on her face.
“So are you gonna tell me?” she demanded.
“Why did you come? I mean it’s all very nice to have you here, but I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to come, so it came as a suprise when you said that you’re coming.”
I sighed, I hadn’t been planning on coming, but I had to change my plans on a letter from my mother, which had suddenly made me homesick for her love. She had mentioned in her letter that she was missing me and that simple sentence had brought about an intense longing for her. I had been happy, I thought that they were missing me, that they wanted to see me, but right now my hopes were shattered.
I gave them no reason to miss me, I thought to myself.
It wasn’t as if they treated me badly, but there were times where they acted as if I wasn’t their daughter. Sure I may do things I’m not proud of and I may not have grown according to their expectations but that was no reason to treat me in that way.
I leaned my head back, images of our happy times or should I say sad times, as a family together floating through my mind.
As a kid I had been extremely naughty and hyperactive. My mother was extremely worried about me but whenever she voiced her thoughts, she was told that it was just a phase that would soon pass. But it didn’t.
I was totally different from my brother and two sisters. Where they were good and excelled in everything, I was the outspoken, naughty child who refused to learn.
Where they were home on time and had good friends, I was always out late with friends who were considered bad.
Where they would attend madrasah, I would bunk it, and if I did attend my time would be wasted pulling mean tricks and pranking teachers.
My parents wold shower attention on them while I’d be left out because I had done something wrong.
This continued into my teen years, it wasn’t as if they were favoured, it was just that I wasn’t around most of the time.
But I didn’t change, I didn’t realize that most of my home problems were my own fault.
Because I didn’t realize it, I thought that my siblings were favoured. It was hard coming home late at night to siblings who, though they laughed and joked with you, you knew deep in your heart that they despised you.
They grew up with modesty while I would wear the latest fashion.
In short, I was the black sheep of the family. Every time a pious Aalim was met by my father, and every time my mother met an Apa they would exhort them to make dua for me, and I was made to wear a thousand different taweez. Which all in turn would be placed in a container as a new one came.
I soon began to despise my family, since I was sent from aalim to aalim, from aamil to aamil. Many insisted that it was jadoo, hence the aamils.
But I, in my heart knew that it was not. I knew that it was a form if depression and that all I wanted was to be part of their happy family.
Soon I would rarely see my family, because hearing them so happy would hurt me. Though I would always be told to join them, I wouldn’t. At this time I didn’t realize that they were giving me chances to join them as a family and to be with them once more.
My irritation and anger towards them soon put me into a state of depression, and because of my company, I was soon hooked onto drugs. It wasn’t a severe addiction but it still was an addiction, yet my family failed to realize.
Then my mother met Apa Wajiha, at first I had thought that it would just be another one of those Apas. But with Apa Wajiha it was different and she councelled me in a way no one had before.
I might have changed my life slowly after that, had I not been forced to join her madrasah after my matric. It was there that I had met Khadeejah, who soon became my best friend in the madrasah which I hated.
My family now hovered around me, expecting me to take a flying leap and suddenly become like them. Where I had craved family love and attention, I now hated it.
I felt as if they loved the person they wanted me to become, not the Sameeha that I was.
Khadeejah’s house soon became my hideaway from family members who I couldn’t stand, because all they ever did was lecture me.
Khadeejah never objected, she let me be the person I wanted to be, though she did put a finger down when it came to drugs. She struggled to get me of it and fought with me on my bad days when I refused to listen.
When I left madrasah half way through the year, she didn’t say anything when everyone did, yet she objected when I decided to study in Canada. My family was tired of me and sent me off without as much as a smile or a tear, they needed a break from me it seemed, but here I was returning, just for them, yet they failed to bother.
It seemed as if 18 years of me was enough, so much so that they didn’t need a break from me. What they needed was not to see me at all, it seemed.
- All children are a little naughty but when a little turns to extremely naughty, violent, disobedient etc. then there definitely is a problem. You need to find out what is causing the problem and treat it. The child may have ADHD, bad friends, watching too much television and violent videos etc.
- Never ever compare your children or make them feel you love the other more. This is against the Sunnah and will cause great problems later in life.
- Children need love. They thrive on love. Many problems in children and teens stem from feeling unloved.