74 lines
3.2 KiB
Plaintext
74 lines
3.2 KiB
Plaintext
REC ON
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TRN ON
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ENC ON
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SYS GOOD
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Entry 2 -- Sister Hājar
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Sido,
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May the peace, mercy, and blessings of Allah be upon you. Our day
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comes at hand. Hawwa leads us well; may Allah be pleased with her.
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My love to you.
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We came aboard the Oleander only two cycles past and already
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I know my path is righteous. My sisters radiate joy at our
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mission. I wake each day and shout, "Ma Sha' Allah!" Our bread
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tastes of honey, Baba. Please do not worry for me.
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I've know this path was from Allah from the beginning, from the
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days in the krem refinery on Misha. We had nothing but each other
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and still they came to take from us, to beat us, to kill us. I saw
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my path in the face of that boy, Uzāir, at the well. Do you
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remember him, Sido? Do you remember that day?
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It was hot. They were all hot, but I remember the heat
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that day as special. It was late morning, just before first rest.
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I was with the women at the well-queue, ready to gather for
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washing. You had a cycle nearby you were tinkering with. I think
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it was the baker's--or Samir, that boy that was always following
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you. You had hoisted it up on a lifter and it was spinning in the
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sun, dust blowing all around. Anyway--
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Uzāir was a runner, just a bit older than me. His brothers had all
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gone to ship and he was next, it was known. You remember him now?
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Always scowling at things to make him seem tough, but he was just
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a llenora in the den, mewling and soft. The women would laugh at
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his act and shoo him away. I can still hear Sara's taunts in my
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mind and laugh. You remember how funny she was.
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We were in the queue when Uzāir walked up, straight to the well.
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Sara was already opening her mouth to unleash her special
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blessings when she was struck dumb. Not just her. The whole square
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went quiet. I looked to see--I remember that cycle drifting in
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circles and you looking to the well with, Yes!, it was Samir, his
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smock covered in oil and krem. I saw you both squinting and then
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flinch before I heard the sounds.
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They had Uzāir on the ground already by the time I looked. He had
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gone to stop them from taking the women, from taking me and Sara
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and the others. Brave little coward, Uzāir. He put on his scowl
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and stood up to them before we even noticed the danger. And he did
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it, Sido! That idiot boy lying there on the ground as they beat
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him, tore at him, ripped him apart. His blood leeching into our
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dirt. His skull cracked, his mind and soul and--to Allah we belong
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and to Him is our return.
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He saved us that day through his own suffering and sacrifice.
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Allah granted me days more on these worlds, with you and with my
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sisters. Those days were with purpose, Sido. We go to that purpose
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now. My suffering will be short compared to that boy's. My
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sacrifice small. It is the sacrifice of a woman without worth to
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our people but spirit and love. I give them back to you, to all of
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you. My life will not buy days for a few women at a well, but for
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all of you on our worlds, from Misha to Doon. They will feel what
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it is like to be torn apart. Let their blood feed the soil.
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Do not worry for me, Sido. Do not mourn. We are at peace.
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Aathama allahu ajrakom,
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Amat al-Masih
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