by Adja Tandjigora, 16
There was a strange stillness to Jana’s house that Dania couldn’t quite get used to. Of course, there were Jana’s roommates, always moving and talking, but they weren’t the source of the silence. It was something else, something quieter.
“Say Jana,” she said, trying to keep up with her sister’s large strides, “You must get a lot of good sleep here, don’t you?” Her suitcase hummed behind her.
Jana stopped then, looking at Dania before shifting her eyes to the kitchen. There was a look in her eyes that Dania couldn’t quite make out.
“Well … since I left home I have been getting much better sleep.”
She walked into the kitchen as she spoke, Dania at her heels. Jana’s kitchen was everything their parent’s kitchen wasn’t. Big, heat-trapping, and old-fashioned, were the words that came to mind about her parent’s kitchen. It was the only place Dania didn’t want to be in. Jana’s kitchen was the opposite; with hers being moderately sized and bright colored. The breeze from the windows gave the kitchen a cooling effect. The unadulterated laughter was another factor in Jana’s favor.
Jana’s roommate turned then, catching Dania’s eye. She pulled something out the fridge, heading towards Dania. “You’re Dania right? I’m Sara, and I think you’ll like this lemonade I made today.”
All Dania could do was stare at Sara. She took the drink, thanking her before leaning on the counter. She said Bismillah before she drank, enjoying the sweet tanginess of the drink. There was something comforting about all of it. Something comforting about the thought that Jana’s kitchen would never be like the one back home.
* *
“Dania.” Her father said, startling her in the kitchen. “You have to stop disregarding your mother like this,” his voice angry.
Dania, for the most part, kept her cool. She kept quiet, chopping the carrots her mother threw in front of her before she responded to her father. She kept her voice steady as she said she’d done what her mother had told her to, and only that. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her dad, for his part, didn’t explode on her like she thought he would. “Okay,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, waiting for him to say something before he seemed to think better of it and lifted his hand off of her.
*
Dania had finally finished in the kitchen. She seized the chance to go to her room to try and complete her homework when her mother called her. Though she knew better, Dania ignored the calls, knowing her mother would end up coming to her anyhow.
She hadn’t even reached her desk when her mother stormed into the room, fuming.
“What was that in the kitchen? Only chopping the carrots? What about the potatoes? And what did you say to your father?” There was hardly a pause in her words, her tone sharpening as she ended.
Dania sighed, and without turning around, she spoke.
“You told me to do what you wanted only. So I did.” She knew from the moment the words left her lips that she’d messed up. Dania was resigned to her fate as her mother continued to berate her for her supposed insolence. It was always like this before Ramadan started.
* *
The minute Dania saw the feast for iftar at the masjid, she had to pinch her arm multiple times to let it sink in. Four different trays of fatayers, a triple tiered fruit stand, three different main dishes being warmed, and so much more.
She turned to her sister, still not quite believing it. “Jana,” she said, “Who made all this food?”
Instead of her sister responding, Dania’s friend Aisha did. “You know my brother Ali, right?”
Dania turned to her, nodding.
“Well he and his friends, and with their dads, made the food. It was for some challenge, to let the women rest. They should do it more often. Look at how symmetrical the samosas are!” She’d run to the food then, inspecting it.
The thought of all those boys making dinner struck Dania. They probably finished quicker, if they all helped each other. That type of familial bond made Dania think back to the times when she made iftar for the family; either alone or while being scrutinized.
Aisha grabbed her arm, ending Dania’s trance as she pulled her towards their unassigned assigned spots at the table.
“This is nice,” Dania said, picking up a plate and some utensils. What should she get first? Her hands hovered over the samosas. They looked great, but she didn’t know if she should grab them.
Aisha bumped into her, apologizing before looking between Dania’s empty plate and the table. Before Dania could say anything, rice, meat, and samosas piled up on her plate.
As quickly as she appeared, Aisha left again. Dania sat there for a moment, amused and confused. She grabbed a samosa, said Bismillah, and took a bite. Perfectly seasoned potatoes and peas graced her mouth, and Dania knew she had to get Aisha to thank her brother for the food.
* *
There was an hour to Maghrib and Dania wanted to be anywhere else in the world than her parents’ kitchen. She’d been tasked with cooking iftar while her parents tried to take Zain to another family friend’s house to show him off. He’d escaped their plans through a soccer match, though that meant he had to leave Dania alone in the house to cook.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before cooking. “It’s okay Dani,” she said aloud, “It’ll be like last time with Zain by your side.”
With only fifty minutes left, Dania set to work in the kitchen, boiling the water for the pasta and getting the sauce ready. She wanted to leave the garlic bread for last, to prepare a side dish she thought would go great with the pasta.
Water splashed her when she poured the pasta in, and it took all her might to not drop the container in the water. As much as Dania wanted to throw the container onto the counter, she set it down with her throbbing hand and rushed to the sink to run warm water over her hand.
The only showstopping thing about her cooking tonight was the fact that she was the only one getting hurt in the process. Dania glanced at the clock, exhausted at the fact that she only had fifteen minutes left. She groaned as she remembered her parents would be back soon. She had to hurry.
*
Dania had finished iftar just before her parents arrived. There was a rare moment of silence as Zain and her parents washed their hands and sat at the table. The minute the adhan rang, they all reached for the dates Dania set out.
Before Dania could enjoy her first bite of food all week, her mother spoke.
“If I knew you couldn’t even prepare a simple iftar without hurting yourself, I wouldn’t have bothered with letting you cook.”
Those simple words made any hunger Dania felt evaporate. She kept her eyes down as she bit on her date, keeping the tears forming from falling. She didn’t bother eating more as she got up, desperately wanting to leave the room.
Leave it to her mother to make her feel like a squashed bug after putting in so much effort. As she all but ran, she swore she heard Zain saying something that her father agreed with, silencing her mother.
* *
The one thing Dania could count on regarding any sort of dinner with her parents was a feeling of guilt both during and after the dinner. Sure, she knew now that it had nothing to do with her, only everything with them, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to handle it as it happened.
There was a tense silence in the dining room. Dania, Jana, and Zain on one side, their parents on the other.
Dania couldn’t bear to look at her parents, focusing on her plate instead. She glanced at Zain, noticed him looking at her spring rolls, picked one of her rolls up, and passed the other one to him.
”Thanks Dani.” He said, and Dania was about to respond when her mother cut in.
“If you could pass me that last spring roll, that’d be nice,” she said, looking at her expectantly. Dania’s first response was a noise of protest as she bit down on the roll. “You know, you do all of that without being asked.” Her mother was pointing in between Dania and Zain at this point. “But when I ask you to do it, it’s all complaints of this and that.”
Any feelings of contempt Dania had faded away as her mother clicked her tongue. She heard her mutter something along the lines of this girl and the urge she felt to cry was getting stronger and stronger by the minute.
“Mom, that isn’t any way to talk to your daughter,” Jana said at the same moment Zain said, “That’s for her mom, I can give you mine.”
Dania could feel her tears running down her face as they spoke. Before she could wipe them, her father noticed. She tensed, expecting him to make a big deal of it but paused when he mouthed her a sorry instead.
“If all you’re going to do here is make Dania cry, I’ll ask you to apologize or leave,” Jana cut in, not so much glaring at their mom, rather toeing at the line between a stare and a glare.
Dinner had ended quickly after that, with Dania’s parents going to taraweeh at one masjid while she went to Great Green Masjid with her siblings. She sat in the back of Zain’s car, trying to wrap her head around the events that had happened.
Jana was quiet as she drove, and Dania took it as her chance to thank her siblings.
“You guys didn’t have to do all of that earlier, but thank you.”
“I’ll always do that for you. Jana too. It’s what we do,” Zain said, and Dania had to fight the urge to cry yet again.
* *
“Would green or blue look better with this dress?” Dania asked Jana.
Without looking up from her phone, Jana said green.
Dania rolled her eyes, took her suggestion and went to the bathroom to style her hijab. It was Eid, and though she wasn’t late to getting ready by any means, she didn’t want to risk it. Getting ready for Eid back home had meant waiting last to use everything.
She shuddered at the thought, walking back to Jana for outfit approval.
“What do we think?” she said, twirling for the full effect.
A chorus of clapping in response wasn’t what she was expecting, but the smiling faces of Jana’s roommates warmed her heart.
*
“Zain!” Jana said, hugging him as Dania took a photo. Their father joined them as Jana and Zain separated, Dania going for her hug. It was warm and embracing, everything Dania wanted in that moment.
When they parted, her father stood there awkwardly, before wishing her an Eid Mubarak. She smiled, hugging him as well.
For the first time, Dania felt him tense before relaxing into the hug. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his grip tightening on her. “Me and your mother both. I hope you can forgive us.”
Instead of responding, Dania hit his back until he let her go. Sucking in deep breaths, she caught the sight of her mother in a matching abaya set to hers. She wore a green hijab too, and all Dania could think of in that moment was how Jana was silent about where her Eid outfit had come from.
Her mother studied her as well. “You look so beautiful, Dania. Masha’Allah.”
A feeling bubbled up inside her, one she couldn’t quite name. She looked between her parents and siblings, and then at the camera in her hands.
“Group photo?”
Everyone gathered around her, and before she clicked the camera, she thought about how thankful she was at that moment. All her family surrounding her, smiling, no fights in sight. The one thing she had asked for had come to fruition.
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