JALILA YAR BARIKI Complete Document Written By Sanaz Deeyah


She rushed out of the room, the door slamming behind her, and immediately began vomiting violently, as if attempting to empty her stomach of everything she had eaten.

Moaning softly and holding her head, she endured the mockery of boys and girls on the other side who laughed and labeled her as a newcomer.

“A new one,” remarked the gamblers with laughter. One of them approached, suggesting, “Being in the barracks is good, as long as you can walk. No one will look down on you.”

At that moment, Jalila entered the scene, addressing someone called “Red Dad.”

“What am I seeing?”
“What do you see for us?”
“Wait, wait, Zuby, I’m not giving a damn. I’m talking to the deejah.”

Deejah, still clutching her head, raised her finger to her face. “What do you think I vomited? Please, bring me some water for my mouth.”

“Wait a minute, teacher. What am I going to bring you? What kind of bag are you, deejah? Yes, a goat takes six months before giving birth and gets pregnant, but goats are also bags because every two months you get pregnant.”

Jalila retorted, “Enough, Jalila. Don’t force me. Whoever you see in the barracks brought themselves here. You’re not enough to drive me away. It’s not the same way you treat the members of this family. I won’t give you that power.”

The house members stirred, and Jalila, visibly upset, turned to them, saying, “Enough of the cursing. I said to his father, there’s no one bad enough to go with Jalila. I’m talking about Khadija. Don’t give me your little whores, just my snake.”

Silence followed, but she continued, and others retreated to their rooms, grumbling.

Turning to Deejah, she declared, “I also turned your head. By the way, I’m not a bag to take you to the hospital for an abortion, like you brought Ikram. I don’t know if she’s also in the barracks. You’ll find her. God will make you give birth again. I’m not your maid.”

“Wait, Jalila, don’t ask me to talk to you. Ikram says you’ll keep her as a daughter, but I already accepted her. I was kicked out of our house. My husband divorced me because he thought Ikram was his daughter, not a woman. I’ll accept the world to adopt a son, but I won’t marry a daughter.”

“But you get pregnant every two months after the abortion and get a baby, and you call yourself a goat. It’s shameful.”
“It’s not shameful. The barracks is where anyone can steal it if they want.”

“God willing, since my parents didn’t give birth to me, and I know I’ll never give birth because of Ikram. Even if she’s a bad girl, I hate her only because she caused me to enter the barracks. Don’t associate me with Ikram again. You said you turned her into a daughter.”

She walked over to Jalila, anger in her eyes. “Did you guide me? By God, I will take revenge,” she vowed, then swiftly disappeared.

In his small luxury car (Corolla S), he drove calmly. The sign “Paradise Hotel” atop the building caught his attention. He honked, and the gate opened for him to enter, finding a parking space.

A young man, no older than 23, quickly opened the car door. The owner, a black man radiating charm and relaxation, stepped out.

Wearing white glasses, he was strikingly beautiful—black, wise, and awesome.

“Sir, welcome,” the young man, named Bashir, greeted.

Mujahid, proud and amused, looked at him. “Bashir, are you still alive?”

Bashir laughed, “Are you not happy to see me?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you were dead.”

“Oh no! Not yet. I have to be like you.”

“God, I want you for me too.”

“No, if I die and there’s a problem, I want to be like you in terms of money. I have one wife and two children, and I want to get married at the age of 29.”

“Hahahah, you’re very funny, my bros. If you want to be rich like me, you should calm down and study. But now you’ve run away from your mother’s house, you don’t study, so you’ll be like that? Your mother is always crying because of your bad behavior, Bashir. You have to change your life from bad to good.”

Angry, Bashir retorted, “My mother raised me to be like this because she hates me.”

“Shut up. She loves you. Please go back to her. You haven’t been with her for almost five months. She’s looking for you.”

“Yes, I work in that hotel.”
“What job?”
Sosa nodded and said, “Sir.”
“Nothing. I’ve come to the National conference, but when I finish, I’ll take her and go home.”

“Don’t run, stay here. I’ll be out in two hours.”
“Well, uncle Mujahid, I’m here.”

He took his briefcase and went inside.

Seeing him entering, Bashir remarked, “Well, we’re very busy. I forgot about you, uncle Mujahid. By the way, come here, and you won’t see me again except in my presence.”

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