#Chapter Nineteen#

{Unedited}

"Put your hands together ladies and gentleman, for a very talented young lady; declared the most active student of the year, achieved first place in the National Women's Initiative and is in the running for dux of her university, I introduce to you, Sameena Ahmad!" 

I adjusted the bow tie on my scarf, flattened out my golden coloured dress and with one final deep breath, I stepped out onto the stage, plastering a large smile on my face. The bright lights immediately blinded me and because of good practice over time, I didn't blink and make myself look like a fool. 

The crowd cheered, yelled and applauded deafeningly as I made my way towards where the host, Miassar was standing. With a very friendly and informal hug and kiss on the cheek, we greeted each other with grins on our faces. She gestured for me to sit and so I did, promptly crossing one leg over the other and watching in amusement as she tried to quieten down the crowd. 

"Yes, yes, I know we all love her but I know that we all are equally as eager to get on with this interview. I, for one, am absolutely thrilled to interrogate you tonight Sameena!" The crowd broke into fits of laughter and so did I, shaking my head at her. "Now before we start, I want to remind our audience that if you would like to ask Sameena a question yourself, you can SMS the number on the screen over here. Five questions will be picked at random and do please try to be creative!" She strode over to sit next to me on the couch that was adjacent to the audience. "Sameena, how've you been? What've you been up to?" she asked casually, her lips tilted in a smile. 

"I have been wonderful, thank you for asking. And I'm sure you all know what I've been up to!" 

Everyone laughed. "Yes, we all know about how the paps are hounding your poor back. But we're here today for the nitty gritty information. We want to hear everything from your mouth."

"Oh no, now that doesn't sound good," I joked. 

"Sameena, the last time I interviewed you, you were ten years old! A lot has happened and there is a lot to talk about!" She relaxed back in her seat and studied me curiously. 

I nodded my head in agreement. "That's true, and I know you're just itching to ask away those questions of yours, aren't you?" She chuckled along with the crowd. 

"Yes I am and without further ado, I'd like to begin with a bit of a random question." I shifted in my seat and nodded my head for her to continue. "What are three qualities that you admire in a person?"

"Hmm," I hummed, biting my lip in thought. From my peripheral vision I could see one of the camera's zooming in towards my face and like I always did, I dismissed it. "For me, it would have to be trustworthiness, compassion and humility. All things our beloved prophet - peace be upon him - embodied." 

Applause vibrated through the crowd. "Masha'Allah," Mira began, before she directed all our attention to the projected screen, that had three words written on it. "It's funny, because I sent out a survey to the audience, asking them which three words they would use to describe you. And the three most ranked answers were: humility, selflessness and a strength of willpower. What do you think...would you agree with this based on your own self-perception?" 

I let out a soft laugh. "Well if I answer yes, then I'm not really being humble am I?" There was a beat of silence before I continued. "Honestly Miassar, I would like to say yes to all those questions but I think it makes me sound a little too perfect. What I will agree with, is that I do strive to represent these characteristics and I think it's great that you beautiful people see it manifesting in my personality."

"Well there you go guys...a humble response!" Miassar declared. "I'm not sure if you would remember Sameena, but when I interviewed you twelve years ago, I asked you how it felt being the Prime Minister's daughter...do you remember your answer?" 

"I must admit, no I don't." 

"You said," she paused for dramatic effect, "that it was the best feeling in the entire world." She mimicked the last part, in what was supposed to be my voice as a ten year old child, making us all laugh again. "What I want to know is, is this how you still feel? Why? Your honest answer please!" 

"My honest answer would be yes," I started, peeking into the crowd. I could see my family at the front, including Mira and I smiled at them as they waved at me. The area was basically crawling with guards, but I found it sweet that Salem had made it a point to be watching the interview instead of on guard. "I will admit, that there are a lot of difficulties I have to deal with, that any other young adult wouldn't have to. Constantly being in the light and having everyone know almost every thing about you, judgements and prejudices and of course, the paparazzi that just never stop, although I respect it is a profession. 

But at the same time, all that doesn't matter to me when I consider all the things I can do in my position. I have so much power in helping people and in fact, that's all I've ever wanted to do." I turned to look into the crowd. "I've always wanted to be that support on a higher level and I've got the chance to do it. So why should I pass it up? All the campaigns and initiatives I do, although it's lovely that you all credit me so much...I want you to know the only reward I want is from Allah SWT. I don't see myself as superior to anyone but I will acknowledge the raw fact that I am at an advantage and I will use that advantage whenever I can to transfer what I have into what you need."

Whistling, cheers and applause burst through the auditorium once I had finished speaking and I flushed under the spotlight. Some people even took it upon themselves to stand up on their seat and clap, and embarrassingly enough, that included Ziad.

"Oh and it's also the best feeling in the world because baba treats me like a princess," I added loudly over the cheers, blowing a kiss baba's way. The camera was on him immediately to catch his response and I laughed in delight as he mocked catching the kiss.  

An 'awww' rang out through the crowd and I smiled before facing Miassar again. 

"Sameena, you have truly grown into an inspiration, a model for us all. Especially, to the young women of this nation. You should be proud of yourself." She grasped my and for an affectionate squeeze.

"Thank you Miassar," I replied happily. I wasn't perfect and I wouldn't deny it felt amazing to hear those words. 

The interview continued on straightly after that and there was a five minute break, before I was swept up again by Miassar's question. Some were deep, some were personal and of course some were embarrassing. She even asked me about Tariq and I swore I turned into a tomato once his name was mentioned.

"To wrap up the evening we'll go ahead with the five questions from the audience. Now they are anonymous, so don't worry about being caught out if you're lucky question has been chosen!" Miassar announced, turning to face the screen and we all followed route. 

"The first question asks: are you (or the government) planning on creating any programs for suicide prevention?" 

I nodded my head vigorously. "Yes, of course. There already is a strong focus on mental disorders and suicide at the education centre but I also think that it should be stressed on an even higher level and insha'Allah we will see that coming through in the future." 

"Very good. The second question asks: can we swap bodies?" 

Everyone laughed. "Oh jeez. I'd have to say no because I think that would be just a little awkward." 

"I agree," Miassar chuckled, eyeing the screen as it clicked onto the third question. "It reads: I am of a different faith than most people in my school and as a result am being bullied immensely. I'm only fourteen years old and am too scared to tell my parents. Please help me Sameena." There was a sombre silence in the room after Miassar finished reading the question and I thought carefully about how to respond.

"To whoever sent this message, I am deeply sorry for what you are going through. I need you to stay strong for me and I need you to speak out. Remember that silence is your enemies greatest weapon. I also encourage you to speak to your parents; you shouldn't be scared because they care for you more than you think. If you're still struggling then you can make yourself known to me through one of the many public means available to you and I'd be more than happy to help you personally." 

"It's so sad that kids these days can know so much evil. It really plays in with the first question about suicide, don't you agree?" Miassar questioned, a frown marring her face. 

I nodded. "Of course, it is the sad reality. I entreat all parents to keep a keen eye on their children, whether they're being bullied or possibly, the bully themselves." 

"The fourth question Sameena: what is the best method of empowering yourself? You just seem to have so much energy masha'Allah and all us lazy bums want to know how you do it?!" 

I chuckled lightly, wondering whether this was a teenager or an adult. "I find that there are those days where you just become quite tired and unbothered for life and those are the crucial times where you have to mentally motivate yourself by reminding yourself of your dreams. I find that my passions are what keep me going, keep pushing me and I guess the first step, is to find your passion. Once you do, I promise you, you won't be asking that question anymore."

"What an amazing response! OK Sameena, the last question for tonight, before we set you free!" We waited for the screen to switch. "How would you describe the difficulties you face in being a young adult and having no mother for support?" Lets just say, I was not expecting that question. Miassar looked at me with a trace of panic in her eyes. "You don't have to answer this question if you don't want to habibti."

I shook my head and took a deep breath before speaking. "No that's fine, I'll answer." I gulped and played with the bow tie on my hijab again. "It goes without saying, that loosing your mother, whether male or female, young or old, is one of the most painful things you may ever experience. I lost mama at the beginning of my teenage years and I would say that it was ten times harder dealing back then, than it is now. That's because when you're young you're on the search for yourself and your identity. And who better to show you that path than your mother? 

As a young adult, I'd say it's still pretty hard, especially when you've got special occasions or celebrations in the family, there's always that thought at the back of your mind that mama isn't here to see it, nor will she ever. But it is the plan of Allah SWT and I just pray that I can meet her in the next word, ameen." 

"Ameen."

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I walked through the automatic door of the hospital and I was instantly engulfed in cold air and the smell of hand sanitiser. Using my right hand, I pulled my cardigan closer to my body and I unconsciously began to fiddle with my hijab and checking whether I had anything in my teeth using my phone's front camera. 

"Getting ready to see Tariq, are we?" Salem observed, his deep voice interrupting me. 

"Why, yes I am." I turned to smile at him. 

He sighed. "How do you know he's even working?" 

"Of course he's working! Plus, I told him that I would be here today, at this time and he said he'd find me after I finished." I turned to Salem. "Isn't that the sweetest thing ever?!" 

"No, not really. Now I'll have to listen to you both standing there, both flustered and cheesy with each other," he replied dryly.

"Hey!" I scolded. Then with a smirk, I added, "I'm sure I'll be having to do the same thing with you and Mira soon, ay, ay?!" 

His cheeks tinged red and I tried not to laugh. Who would have thought that big guy Salem, would be blushing over a girl?! Not me, that's for sure! "I haven't even proposed yet, so calm down," he mumbled. "And there is no way I'd talk like how you and Tariq do." 

"You make it sound like we talk in a bad way!"

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "You know what I mean." 

"Yeah, well...we'll see. I'm sure by the first meeting you'll be a sputtering idiot. Oh and have I mentioned how persuasive Mira can be?" I said mischievously. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know how much I hate seafood right? One time she convinced me to eat fish, solely by stating how good it is for your skin and I'm not kidding, she didn't stop until I put that piece of fish in my mouth. All because I complained about one damn pimple!"

"I still don't understand where you're going with this Mira."

I paused once we had arrived in the scans area and I handed my referral to the nurse at the desk. She checked it and told me to wait until I was called out. "What I mean to say, is that you think you can get away with not being cheesy and affectionate but once you're in a relationship, you'll fall into the trap. Especially with Mira. She'll convince you that she's somehow dying because you didn't hug her every morning." 

"If she wants me to hug her every morning, I will," he stated, like it was a chore and I laughed out loud. "But I will not express my affections in the same manner that you and Tariq do. That's all I'm saying." 

"We'll see, Salem. We'll see," was my simple reply. 

After ten minutes, my name was called. Salem and I, along with two of the other guards hauled ourselves up and made our way into the room. Two stood outside, whilst Salem came in with me. "How are you Miss Ahmad?" the young, blue-eyed nurse asked. 

"Nervous."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Why nervous?"

"Just tell me that I don't have to have surgery and I'll be fine!" 

She smiled in understanding. "OK, let's get your cast off then. It might hurt once I ask you to lay down and stretch your arm out, but hopefully it will be a quick scan. Sound good?" 

I nodded my head. "Yep." 

Once my cast was off, I tried not to yelp in pain as she helped me into position. It had been bent in one particular angle for so long that it felt unnatural to straighten my arm again. "I just want you to try and straighten it Sameena, don't strain yourself. I'm just getting you to test your bones and see how they're holding up." 

"I don't think I can move it more than this," I grit out, looking down at my arm which had moved about a quarter of the way. 

"That's OK, that's good. We'll do the scan now. Sit still and try not to move." I nodded my head. The scan was done super quick, in about twenty seconds. "Ok you can sit back up for me now." She helped me into a sitting position again and I winced at the pain in my arm. I must have seriously broken it pretty badly if it was still hurting me almost two weeks later. 

"Hmm." She was checking the results on the computer and I could see the scan of my arm there. 

"Is that a good 'hmm' or a bad 'hmm'," I questioned.

"How long has it been since you've broken your arm Miss Ahmad?" 

"About two weeks." 

"Hmm," she said again. I shared a look with Salem and we both just waited patiently as she continued to click some buttons on the computer. All this waiting was making me anxious. "Nope, seems like your arm is healing up fine," she said suddenly, standing up straight to face me. 

"Really?!" I asked happily. "So no surgery?"

"No surgery," she confirmed.

"Yes!" I fist-bumped the air. "Thank you so much!" 

She laughed good-naturedly. "I'm glad I could make your day."

We thanked her again and made our way out back into the waiting area. "So when is Tariq supposed to be coming?" Salem asked.

"Around one o'clock, on his break." I checked the time. "Which is now." 

He sighed and sat his large frame on a chair. "Fine, we'll wait."

We waited an extra fifteen minutes and since I had to teach at two, I couldn't wait any longer and I decided to leave. I was quite disappointed as I made my way to the exit. I really thought I'd see him today. 

We stepped foot out the door and began to make our way to the car when after a few seconds, I heard my name being called. 

"Sameena, wait!" 

I quickly turned around and tried not to grin idiotically at the sight before me. A marvellous sight actually. Tariq was running my way, clad in his scrubs and doctors coat, his thick black hair flying over his forehead as he ran. In his hand, was a single yellow sunflower. 

"Hey," I said softly as he stopped before me, catching his breath.

"Hey," he responded, moving some of his ruffled hair from his eyes. 

Salem groaned behind us and we both turned to beam at him. "I'm giving you guys two minutes. Hurry it up please," he ordered, before moving to sit on a brick fence two metres from us. 

I rolled my eyes at him and faced Tariq again. "I'm so sorry I was late, the patient I was looking after suddenly began throwing up blood and I had to treat him immediately."

I shook my head with a smile. "Please don't apologise. I'd rather you save lives," I laughed.

He scanned my face intensely before handing me the flower and smiling. "Sometimes I think I'd rather be with you." 

I immediately broke out into a sweat and I felt like I was on fire. Well, that was the effect he had on me it seemed. 

"You're being too sweet," I mumbled, taking the sunflower from his hands and staring at it to avoid his searching gaze. 

"There's no such thing as too sweet," he voiced. Don't melt into the floor Sameena. Don't do it. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, probably realising how shy I was. "So how's your arm? Insha'Allah better?" 

"I don't have to have surgery," I exclaimed excitedly and Tariq was quick to laugh at my facial expression. 

"That must be a relief then." 

"Oh man, is it. You know that feeling you get when you see your plate of chocolate drenched waffles coming your way in the hands of the waiter? Well that's how elated I was when she told me I didn't have to do surgery." 

Tariq threw his head back and laughed deeply. He exhaled roughly, slight crinkles at the corner of his eyes as he smiled softly. "I really needed to see you today." Usually, I would have flushed, but I caught the distressed and tired hint in his voice. 

"Is everything OK?" I asked gently. 

He ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it again and shifted between his feet. "It's been  a rough day. I've been taking care of a patient for two years now and earlier this morning, he passed away. Diabetes." 

"Oh no. That's awful. Allah yerhamo," I whispered. 

"He just had no motivation and didn't look after himself properly. He'd tell me that he tried; just for me....but it is what is right." He looked up at me with watery eyes and I had to mentally and physically restrain myself from not flying into his arms.

"It doesn't make it any easier."

He nodded. "You try not to get attached but I guess it's human instinct." 

"You've got a wonderful heart Tariq. And you tried your best. The rest is up to Allah SWT." 

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Definitions: 

insha'Allah: If Allah SWT wills 

Allah yerhamo: may God have mercy on him. 

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A longer chapter so I expect lots of comments and votes :P 

Enjoy!