NI DA PATIENT DINA book 1 Complete Document Written By Mrs Isham


A young girl, no more than five years old, ran into the house calling, “Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Hearing her, a woman in her forties quickly emerged from the kitchen. “You sent Khalid to steal my war money!” she accused. “What’s it got to do with him? I’m not stopping you from playing with him after you killed your brother. That’s enough. Be quiet. Let me call your aunt. Come with me.”

Entering the living room, my mother went up to the door and called out, “Fanan, enough of this sleep. You’ve come to see me in the morning.” Looking around, I wondered who this Fanan was. In Dede’s room, there were women of middle age, draped in clothes. Amidst them stood a striking girl, at least 18 years old, donning shorts and loose hair flowing down her back. Her tall, chocolate-colored frame boasted captivating features — big white eyes, a long nose, lips reminiscent of Rami’s, tinted in a seductive red, and a curvaceous figure, accentuated by a confident posture. Masha Allah! One couldn’t fathom her age given her alluring appearance.

As she headed to the restroom, she either splashed water or dozed off. Ten minutes later, she emerged, wrapped in a small towel. I recalled Mama Nakirantane’s swift preparations as she quickly readied lotion to cleanse her body. She tied a lengthy dress before applying hair oil, gently patting her head before fashioning her hair. A spritz of perfume adorned her locks, and she adjusted her hijab, allowing a hint of it to cascade over her knees. Masha Allah! She was truly a sight to behold.

She found my mother busy preparing the rice that had been cooking all night. With a composed tone, she remarked, “Mama, look up, mama,” silently praying in her heart, “May God bring you a good husband.” “May Allah not withhold the money for Miya’s clothes. Don’t wait,” she added, a smile playing on her lips, as she spoke of Kinga’s plans for the evening.


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