When I was a little boy, I had a massive crush on this Somali girl, Idil. I was too young for my love for her to be clouded by her physique. To me, she was just soulfully beautiful and every time I looked into her eyes my heart honestly skipped a beat.
One day I came to school and she wasn't there. I rushed home and asked hooyo if she knew what was up, hooyo told me Idil's mom and dad got into an argument and decided to separate, her dad taking her back to Djibouti. It was devastating news, and 9 year old me was probably depressed for at least three months thereafter. What was worse was Idil's mom - left behind. Her mental health began to deteriorate, and soon the loss of her daughter was too hard for her to bare that she took up drinking, and drugs. The hijabi mom who was hardly seen outside became the stench of the Somali community, seen almost every night half drunk, coming home with another ajnabi gaal man.
Years past and remembering Idil and where and what she might be doing were thoughts that kept arising. I sat down with hooyo when I was 19 and asked whether she remembered that Somali girl called Idil, my classmate when I was 9. My mom remembered and we spoke about her mom too. Hooyo said how Idil had actually moved to Germany and then to the United States where she got citizenship. So at 19 I decided to save up some money and use some of it to clean up Idil's mom while the rest was spent on travel expenses for Idil's mom to meet her daughter for the first time in a decade. I told my mom to tell Idil's mom and soon we were all set for the U.S. Idil's mom was so excited, she went into full sober mode for the month before our flight. I decided to come along too since all I wanted to see was Idil's face again.
We landed in the U.S., New York to be precise. And after two days, the day of the meeting had arrived and Idil was en route to meet us. She arrived and to my amazement, she was with some other dude. A white ajnabi. And to be honest, I was heartbroken. Utterly shattered. The meeting between the two of them was quick, Idil noticeably nonchalant about meeting her mother that she was without for a decade. She hardly glimpsed over to remember me. Her mother was the only one that enjoyed herself and at least someone did. The drive back to the hotel room was bitter sweet. On the one hand I was thankful to have reunited a mother and daughter, while on the other had to come to terms with someone I had very strong feelings for, for more than a decade, having finally moved on. Without me
One day I came to school and she wasn't there. I rushed home and asked hooyo if she knew what was up, hooyo told me Idil's mom and dad got into an argument and decided to separate, her dad taking her back to Djibouti. It was devastating news, and 9 year old me was probably depressed for at least three months thereafter. What was worse was Idil's mom - left behind. Her mental health began to deteriorate, and soon the loss of her daughter was too hard for her to bare that she took up drinking, and drugs. The hijabi mom who was hardly seen outside became the stench of the Somali community, seen almost every night half drunk, coming home with another ajnabi gaal man.
Years past and remembering Idil and where and what she might be doing were thoughts that kept arising. I sat down with hooyo when I was 19 and asked whether she remembered that Somali girl called Idil, my classmate when I was 9. My mom remembered and we spoke about her mom too. Hooyo said how Idil had actually moved to Germany and then to the United States where she got citizenship. So at 19 I decided to save up some money and use some of it to clean up Idil's mom while the rest was spent on travel expenses for Idil's mom to meet her daughter for the first time in a decade. I told my mom to tell Idil's mom and soon we were all set for the U.S. Idil's mom was so excited, she went into full sober mode for the month before our flight. I decided to come along too since all I wanted to see was Idil's face again.
We landed in the U.S., New York to be precise. And after two days, the day of the meeting had arrived and Idil was en route to meet us. She arrived and to my amazement, she was with some other dude. A white ajnabi. And to be honest, I was heartbroken. Utterly shattered. The meeting between the two of them was quick, Idil noticeably nonchalant about meeting her mother that she was without for a decade. She hardly glimpsed over to remember me. Her mother was the only one that enjoyed herself and at least someone did. The drive back to the hotel room was bitter sweet. On the one hand I was thankful to have reunited a mother and daughter, while on the other had to come to terms with someone I had very strong feelings for, for more than a decade, having finally moved on. Without me
