KURA DA KAN RAGO
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
The day began with an unusual darkness that lingered since dawn, making it challenging for many to perform their morning prayers, especially those reliant on natural light or cityscape views. As the clock neared eight o’clock, not a single drop of rain had fallen, but a gentle, moisture-laden breeze swept through the city, offering relief to both humans and nature alike. It was an interesting phenomenon as the overcast sky had dimmed the usual morning sunlight.
The improved weather allowed patients, who had been confined to the hospital for weeks, a rare opportunity to step outside, breathe in the fresh air, and perhaps find solace in a momentary respite from their ailments.
Ahmad, carrying his books, made his way to the hospital and exchanged greetings with the patients scattered among the trees. Some lay down, while others stood, attempting to shift their bodies ever so slowly.
His heart went out to a woman he noticed trying to amuse her son, who lay beside her. She was doing her best to elicit even a small smile from him, as a palpable coldness settled in her heart. Ahmad shook his head, empathizing with her plight, even though his own father was among the patients, his fate resting in the hands of God.
With a sense of urgency, Ahmad headed to a shop that sold clothing and accessories, situated on the eastern side of the hospital’s wall. Only three people were inside. Two of them sat on rubber chairs around a table, a bottle of lemon Fanta before them. On a white piece of fabric that resembled a mat, there were four rings and a sheep’s head.
One of the men had a prominent belly, and it seemed as though he was unwell, receiving treatment from a traditional healer or perhaps a spiritual guide. The other man, unfazed by the illness, appeared to be of African descent. Ahmad took all of this in with a quick glance, as it was familiar territory to him.
Ahmad approached the third person in the shop, an elderly man sitting by a refrigerator stocked with various clothing items.
“Hello, Father, I’m here,” Ahmad greeted the old man. The elder smiled at Ahmad and responded, “Alright, my son. How is your father holding up?”
“Stable,” Ahmad replied before settling into his usual spot in the corner of the store, in front of a window. He spread his books out on the table, as he had done for the past twenty days during these nights spent with his father. Before dawn, his mother would come to fetch him. Ahmad’s father had fallen ill at an unfortunate time, affecting Ahmad while he was preparing for his final exams during his second degree at the university. Every day, he would bring his books to the hospital to study at night. In the mornings, he made it a habit to come to this shop, where he continued his studies until his mother and younger brother arrived to pick him up. Hence, Ahmad was well-acquainted with the elderly man who ran the store.
Ahmad took a deep breath and opened the nearby window to allow the cool air to refresh his face. He began studying slowly, occasionally lifting his head to gaze at a beautiful cloud that drifted by, adorning the dark sky with its whiteness.
“Rain would be a relief,” Ahmad muttered to himself. Just then, the sound of a hospital bed being wheeled into the shop caught his attention. Ahmad turned toward the room’s entrance, his curiosity piqued. As he raised his head, his eyes fell upon her, and for the first time in his life, he saw her—a sight he would never forget. It was a moment that would forever be etched in his memory, one that revealed the darkness of destiny.