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There once was a boy called Selim. He lived within a very closed community - a community that had remained separate not through choice, but through various political and social mechanisms far beyond the realms of most of the people's comprehension. As a consequence of being so cut off, and of being dependent on aid and assistance from the land outside their reckoning, the people of the community had become almost entirely self-seeking. The spirit of the community had died so long ago that it no longer even haunted the dark narrow backstreets of that place. If truth be told, it had died in the darkness of another land, but this story is only remembered by a few old people and a few newcomers, who are not often trusted anyway. Those who are not listened to, do not throw forth their knowledge gladly, and so the story of the lost spirit was rarely told. When it was, young people scoffed at it, religious leaders sought answers in other places and the seriousness of the loss was never recognised. Soon there came a time when people had forgotten about it entirely. Conservatism and economical gain became the new social laws. By
day the people quarrelled and schemed, by night they suffered restless dreams.
Selim was born into this community, and felt the loss before he could voice it. As he grew he faced hardship and struggle, against stereotypes and practices he didn't agree with. Amongst his friends he found a rising desire for change, and it wasn't long before he found himself at the forefront of it. In a bid to harness this youthful energy, he and his friends began telling new stories to the people - real stories - that confounded their desire for money and their use of social malpractice for power. They gathered people to hear the stories and spoke louder when they refused to listen. Slowly more people began to lend an ear, and support for his vision for society grew. At the same time reports came in of a bright light growing on the horizon. Somewhere, far away, a spirit was being rekindled.
But the winds of change are rarely strong in the beginning and there came a sudden lull. The word lull is perhaps too soft-sounding for what really happened, but the words i want to use don't sit nicely in storytelling form.
Forgive me my poetic licence. Forgive others for doing what they did. Let me take you quickly through the darker time, the hidden time, when ideas were kept under rush mats and bright eyes were held low.
Enter Amina, stage left.
Unlike most young women in this community, Amina was modest but unashamed. She held her head high, she smiled at people passing with her eyes. She noted the way she was treated in the community, the way all women her age were, and her mouth pursed beneath her burqua. But still her eyes smiled bright. One day, Selim himself looked up from his self-censorship and found those bright eyes smiling at him. In Amina he recognised a similar soul, the same desire to re-find the spirit and he knew he had found his one. Unfortunately, in love, as in life, things are rarely smooth. Whilst Selim had grown with the desire for change, his parents had remained firmly rooted to the principles that appeared to be holding the community together, but were actually ripping it apart. For Amina to marry their son, she would have to pay a high price, a sum which her widowed mother could
not afford. With the irony of ignorance, her mother supported Selim's father in forbidding the two to marry. With haste the angry parents set up two alternative spouses and proceeded to arrange the separate marriages of their errant offspring.
A few years ago, the story would have ended there, or tragically at any rate, but today we are in for a happy ending. Selim and Amina ran away. They hid within the camp, separately, as they were still unmarried. Selim's father raged and searched, but friends and family loyal to them kept quiet. Secretly the elopers came to the UNHCR office and requested our help in their stand against the dowry system and the malpractices of their parents. We began to counsel and interview, leading up to guidance and monitoring of any intervention. But it took time. and time and time. Days passed of waiting. Things looked up and then down. Selim was beaten, as was his brother-in-law. Amina stayed inside and for the first time in her life, lowered her head. After a full week of waiting for the law of the land to say aye, the law of the land did so, with his whole-hearted blessing. What
a day! The winds of change swept through the camp. Warring factions came together to witness the event. People talked and gossiped and admired the decision, and somewhere in the heart of the community, Selim and Amina sat in a dark squat hut on a small rush mat and in the presence of supportive family members, an imam, and a UNHCR intern struggling with her emotions, gave each other their vows and boiled sweets, in lieu of rings.
Since last week, they've been living happily ever after.
And there's a small light on the horizon again....
The End
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Anna
non-member comment
beautiful
what a lovely story told by a great storyteller! send the happy couple my congratulations and many happy years together. on days like these you must really feel the impact of your work. well done girly ;)