The Other Mother

Does one really have to give birth to be a mother?

Written for:

FORUM

Parenting Short Story Contest   (ASR) Parenting is the funnest job ever! Or not? You tell me! #1558020 by Annette traveling til 6/3

The Other Mother

Chapter:1

The scorching rays of the hot summer sun was always the first thing Nazia wanted to avoid. She never saw eye to eye with the Bangladeshi summer anyway, winter was more of her thing. At the end of the day, she was a woman after all. No matter what, ladies always had to put on quite a few layers of clothes unlike the "lucky" Bangladeshi gents. Just a Lungi would suffice for men, huh!
         Even the 15-minute-walk to the cafseemed like a real chore for Nazia that day, the sun was showing all its wrath on her. Her favorite parasol could not provide enough shade. It was a Saturday, and normally, people would be sitting in front of the TV, watching a movie. However, 30-year-old Nazia Afrin worked at a nearby coffee shop as a waitress to gather some extra income on the weekends.
"Greetings, Madam, Assalamu Alaikum (peace be upon you)" Nazia shot a polite smile at the owner of the caf Mrs. Rownak Rahman. The elderly lady returned that smile with a cold glare: "Wa Alaikumus Salam(peace be upon you too). Don't you have a watch? You're an hour late!
"Oh, I'm so sorry madam. Actually, my little girl caught a flu since yesterday night. I had to leave her with a neighbor."
"Young lady, you didn't even give birth to that little pest you call your girl. Why do you have to be stuck with the menace of a niece? Go get a life!"
"Madam, just because I'm your employee, doesn't mean you get to say anything negative about my personal life." Nazia's usually sweet voice had a tangy flavor in it now.
"Oh whatever! Go now, the customers need you. Remember, you'll get a pay-cut for the delay today!"
Nazia brushed away droplets of sweat off her forehead as she prepared the steaming cups of Latte and the ice cool milk shakes. It's no use arguing with Mrs. Rahman, she'd just stick to her own points.
"Two Black Coffee and two Lava Cakes, please!"
"Can I get a Chocolate Milkshake?"
         Saturdays were naturally, "teenager days", as young adults preferred to get their supplies of caffeine at a discount that day. However, impatient young people allowed little time for preparation, so the beverages were a little low on quality.
"This might be hard, but I require that extra money for my darling Sadia." Nazia murmured under her breath, away from the audible range of anyone else.

Chapter:2

"Hey, rickshaw, can you take me to the Girl's School?"
"Sure thing, ma'am, that would be 35 Taka."
"Oh, 35 would be good, just take me there real quick." Nazia replied, jumping up on the battery- operated cycle rickshaw.
TRING! RING! The concluding bell sounded like relief after a tiring day. Twelve-year-old Sadia Ahsan sat quietly on a wooden bench, waiting for her aunt, Nazia. Everyday, Sadia watched her peers getting picked up by their parents, with a heavy heart. No matter how much she wanted, her parents would never return again.
"Hey princess, did you have a nice day?" Nazia asked, opening her arms out.
"Khalamoni! (addressing used for maternal aunt here in Bangladesh)" Sadia jumped into the inviting embrace, when she saw Nazia at the entrance of her school.
"I'm sorry my child, got out of work late today. Had a row with the boss." Nazia apologized with a warm smile. "It's okay," Sadia replied, her voice chiming, childlike, face buried deep into Nazia's chest.
         It took them a little less than an hour to reach home from school. Sadia pushed the curtains aside to allow some sunlight into the room. Their one-room apartment was not a luxurious one, but plainly nice. A study table, a bookshelf, a tiny dressing-table at one corner, a little chest-of-drawers and a bed were the non- living occupants of the room. The bedroom had an attached washroom, and two windows overlooking the trees outside. Sadia adored the early morning concert of sparrows and common myna. She'd be prepared with a fistful of rice grains for her feathered friends. She watched them peck at the grains while eating breakfast.

Chapter:3

"Hey Khalamoni, what was my Ma and Abba like? " Sadia enquired, hugging her aunt tight, late at that night.
"They were the sweetest humans I ever knew." Nazia replied, stroking her niece's thick, black hair softly.
"Why did they leave me, then?" Sadia asked, almost at the verge of tears.
"They had to be with Allah, my love." Nazia blinked away tears, as memories of a nightmarish day from the past filled her mind:
A few years back, Nazia's parents, elder sister Razia, Razia's husband and infant daughter Sadia, went to attend another relative's wedding. On their way back, the bus carrying the family collided with a speedy truck. That accident claimed almost all the lives of the bus passengers. Only little Sadia and the bus driver could be rushed to the hospital. There, the driver breathed his last. Sadia, however, gradually recovered from her injuries.
Since then, Nazia and Sadia only had each other as family. People did come to ask for Nazia's hand in marriage, but none were willing to accept Sadia as part of their family. Some suggested residential schools for Sadia. Nazia would never part with her little girl. As a result, she chose being single over a selfish marriage. She worked at the coffee shop during the day, and attended college online at night. Both aunt and niece were excellent students.
         Sadia studied on merit scholarship. Although she was just 12, she could explain studies really well to her peers. So, the school authority hired her as a teaching assistant. She earned enough to suffice her pocket money.
Nazia knew that she wasn't Sadia's biological mother. Does one really have to give birth to love a child? Even marriage was not as important to her as Sadia. After all, Nazia's little niece was still her own blood, and she'd never abandon her little girl no matter what.

Total words: 1000