Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 103

I met with Mark on Wednesday morning and he gave me the sponsorship papers and Jamila’s work contract. As soon as I got to the office, I called Ms. Akbar and we agreed to meet at the hospital at one. It seemed that everything was falling into place. All I needed now was for Jamila’s father to approve her contract and for her to sign. I would ask if she could start the following day, but in all reality, planned on her moving in over the weekend.

I asked my secretary about the progress on the presents for the other children on the ward. She said they were being picked up that afternoon and I could play Santa the next day. It finally dawned on me why Hibbah was a little short with me yesterday: I’d forgotten about the teddy bear. Oops!

Knowing about my meeting at one, I left the office at eleven and headed for the mall. I went to that store called “Build-a-Bear©” where you can design your own bear and had a nice, light brown fuzzy bear made wearing a green shirt that said, “I Belong to Princess Hibbah”.

I arrived at the hospital early, so Miko and I went to the cafeteria and had lunch. Miko said she loved the bear. She told me that Dr. Clayborne had changed Hibbah’s pain medication and that it knocked her out like the first one did, but that when she was awake, there was less pain. Hibbah seemed satisfied with that. She also said that they were trying to figure out a way to get her up and moving.

Usually, they get the patient up and moving about on crutches. Hibbah’s problem was that her left arm was broken and in a cast. She couldn’t use crutches. Miko informed me that the following day, Hibbah would have the temporary cast and pins removed from her elbow and a solid cast put on. After that, they were going to get her up and around in a wheelchair. Her stump was healing fine and Miko said she might be able to come home next week. They had started using some sort of compression bandage to help shrink and mold the stump so that her prosthesis could be fit when she’d finished healing.

I reminded Miko of my one o’clock meeting with Aamira and that I was going arrange to have Aziza move in with us as soon as Jamila was able to start: hopefully on Saturday. We finished lunch talking about the family. We had to buy some baby furniture in the near future: three high chairs, and car seats — can’t forget those! Miko said she wanted to buy the new baby girls some outfits even though there were hand-me-downs from Cinny, Lizzy and Malina.

At one, I met with Ms. Akbar, a notary and Dr. Clayborne. Susan started things off by giving us an update on Hibbah’s condition. She basically repeated what Miko had told me at lunch. I asked her when Hibbah might be discharged and she said, “If all goes well, probably the middle of next week.”

With the medical update complete, Aamira closely examined the sponsorship papers and was satisfied all the “I’s” were dotted and the “T’s” crossed. With that, we signed the documents and had them notarized. Hibbah and Aziza were now my responsibility. We agreed that I would now assume payment of Aziza’s hotel room and Basheera’s translation services until I’d made other arrangements. I put the papers in my breast pocket and we gave our salaams and concluded our meeting.

As I made my way to Hibbah’s room I had to tuck the bear under my suit coat so that none of the other kids spotted it. They would get their goodies tomorrow. I knocked and thrust the bear inside the door and said, “Hi! Is Hibbah here! I belong to her and need a great big princess hug!”

From outside the door I heard a shrill squeal and I popped inside with a big grin. Hibbah was fumbling trying to find the control to raise the bed as I walked in. As soon as she knew I could see her face, she dropped the control and covered the side of her face and sort of withdrew into herself.

I stopped and gave my salaams to Aziza and Basheera then went to Hibbah’s bed. I sat down and she had her head down and cocked, looking up at me out of the corner of her eye through her lashes. Her mouth went into a pout and I saw the tears start spilling down her cheeks. I pulled her to my chest and asked her “Why so sad, Princess? See, I have a new friend for you and he needs a princess hug. In fact, I need one too.”

She snatched the bear with her good hand but wouldn’t look up. I put my finger under her chin and lifted her head. Her big brown eyes bore such sorrow I started to tear. I kissed her forehead and asked, “Why so sad, Sweetie?”

She cradled the bear in her arm as she covered the side of her face with her hand, but said nothing. “Ah,” I said, “I see. You don’t want me to see your scar. Is that it?”

When she’d heard Basheera’s translation she meekly nodded.

I slowly pulled her hand down to reveal the wound. It was ugly — very ugly.

She had a jagged, stitched wound about three inches long than ran from her left temple near the outside corner of her left eye, over her cheekbone and down to the middle of the hollow of her cheek. I turned her head and laid kisses all along the stitches. I looked into her sad, tear-filled eyes and said, “Hibbah, you are still a very pretty, brown-eyed princess with beautiful curly black hair.”

I gently ran my finger down the length of the cut and said, “This doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you ever forget that!” I then laid my hand over her heart and told her, “Who you are in here is very beautiful. The scar on your face, or anywhere else and even missing your foot will never change or diminish the beauty in your heart. Who you are in here, is who I see. Do you believe that?”

She said something, but I heard no translation. I looked over and Aziza and Basheera had covered their faces with their veils and were crying. Basheera gave a composing sniffle and said, “Hibbah said, ‘Do you really believe that or are you just saying it to make me feel better?’”

I looked at my little princess and she was looking at me, intently watching my eyes. I got down and rubbed noses with her and answered, “I believe that with all my heart, Princess.”

She dropped the bear and wrapped her arm around my neck and cried, “I love you, Sean! You make me feel so wonderful inside! You take away the hurt and the pain. When I’m with you, I feel special.”

I chuckled as I rocked her and replied, “You are special, Hibbah. You’re pretty, you’re fun to be with and you’re brave — very, very brave. I promised you I would never lie to you and I’m not lying now.”

She loosened her hold on my neck and kissed me on the lips. She smiled through her tears and said, “That was a princess kiss, but you don’t have to do anything. I gave it to you because I love you.”

I smiled and gave her a squeeze and replied with a chuckle, “Those are the best kind!”

Hibbah smiled and the sparkle in her eyes returned and shone through the tears. I asked her, “Well, what do you think of your teddy bear? His T-shirt says ‘I Belong to Princess Hibbah.’ I think he needs a princess hug and kiss too.”

Hibbah hung her head and said through Basheera, “I’m sorry for the way I treated you yesterday. I was angry that you didn’t bring me the bear. I thought that maybe what you said about me being a princess was just talk. But you remembered and I feel bad that I didn’t believe you.”

“No Sweetie,” I replied, “it is I who is sorry. I made a promise and I forgot. When we make a promise, we shouldn’t forget. We should always keep a promise. I forgot yesterday, but I remembered today. Am I forgiven?”

“Yes, I forgive you; and you don’t have to get me a pony. I can’t ride it anyway.”

“Phooey!” I huffed. “Sure you can learn to ride. All you do is sit on him and say giddy-up!”

She giggled and said, “You’re funny! You make me laugh.”

“Laughter, dear child, is one of the greatest medicines of all. If you can laugh, there’s hope. Now, I hate to have to leave you so soon, but I have to say hi to the other kids before I leave. Today, you got your bear. Tomorrow, I have to give the other kids their presents. Okay?”

She nodded and replied, “I thank Allah every time I’m awake that he sent you to us. Mama and I feel blessed that you are here to help us.”

“I feel blessed too, Princess. It’s a great honor to know such pretty and brave girls like you and your mother.”

I gave her a quick peck and a gentle hug and rose from her bedside. I turned to Aziza and Basheera and said, “Before coming in here, I signed the sponsorship papers. Aziza, you are now my responsibility. Basheera, Ms. Akbar has agreed to let me pay you for continuing to work with Aziza and Hibbah until I have a live-in translator in place. I’m having dinner with a young college student and her parents tonight. If all goes well, I hope to have her ready to take over by Saturday. That means I’ll need your services until then.”

I pulled out six one hundred dollar bills and gave Basheera five of them. I told her, “This is for three day’s work. There should be enough to cover your expenses also. Is this satisfactory with you?”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. “It’s more than enough. I usually get paid a flat rate and thirty-five cents a mile for traveling expenses. I’d be happy to stay on for the rest of the week.”

“No, thank you,” I answered. I turned to Aziza and gave her the other hundred and said, “Here, this is for anything you or Hibbah may need between now and when you can move in with me and my family. Whatever you do, don’t be afraid to ask me for money. I’m responsible for you and Hibbah now. I want the quality of your lives to be comfortable: not just sufficient. If all goes well, you will come live in my home and be with other Muslim women. That will probably be on Friday or Saturday. I’ll know for sure and give you an answer tomorrow when I visit. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sean, and thank you so much; Hibbah and I both thank Allah for you in our prayers.”

“Well, I need all the prayers I can get. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

I gave my salaams to the two women. When I looked over at Hibbah, she was fast asleep with her new friend tucked under her chin. I gave a departing smile and left to visit the other children. After a few games and reading a few books with the children that weren’t sleeping, I said goodbye to the nurses and my wife and departed for home.

______________________________

When Miko arrived home about an hour after me, we showered and said evening prayers. We had moved prayer service to our new classroom because now, with the addition of Pita and Tiya, we had ten people. Cinny and Lizzy, at five, had begun praying with us this past year. We all prayed that our meeting tonight would bear fruit and we would have a new translator for Aziza and Hibbah.

After prayers, Pita dashed back downstairs to help my mother with the dinner preparations. We were having salad and a crown roast of lamb along with curried rice and vegetables. The rest of us got cleaned up and dressed for dinner. Leeya, Priya and I made sure the twins and Malina were bathed and dressed on time. Dad arrived while we were praying and was finished showering and changing when we came downstairs.

Miko and Monaavi kept watch on the stove and the girls set the table while Mom and Pita went to get ready. At seven sharp, the buzzer rang announcing that the Mustafa’s were at the front gate. I cordially invited them to enter over the intercom and went outside to greet our guests. From the top of the hill, our house looked impressive, but with the new addition, even from a distance it looked massive.

Tariq had pulled into the curved driveway at the front door entrance. He asked where he should park and I told him that in front of the door was fine. We shook hands and greeted each other politely when he’d exited the car. I directed him and his family inside to make the formal introductions.

After introducing my entire clan, Tariq presented his wife, Adeela and his daughter, Jamila. Tariq was a tall man, about my height and his wife was a portly woman of about five feet four. She was dressed in a conservative blue dress and veil. Jamila was about the same height as her mother, average build with a round derriere and a very ample bosom. She too was dressed conservatively with a veil. We learned she was twenty three and studying Arabic culture at Johns Hopkins and that they lived in Alexandria, Virginia.

My father asked Tariq what he did for a living and when he said he worked for a small company as a software engineer, Dad went into his diatribe about our company and began talking techno-speak. Mom and my wives rolled their eyes and took the two women in hand and gave them the grand tour. Mom let Dad ramble on for five minutes after they’d returned, politely ended all talk of computers, programs and applications and directed us to the dining room.

All three of the Mustafas were awed by our home and apparent wealth. Fortunately, all of the children were on their best behavior and Tina and Tiya weren’t up to any of their lolita-like antics.

I directed my conversation mainly at Tariq, but glanced over at Jamila at the appropriate times to make sure she felt included in the conversation.

I began by telling him that although my parents and Miko were Christians, we mainly lived a Muslim lifestyle with prayers twice daily and we ate a halal diet and that no pork was served in our home. I went on to tell him about Pita and Tiya’s conversion to Islam and he seemed impressed. He said that Jamila was their only child and she’s led a very sheltered life. I empathized and complimented him on his concern for his daughter and he seemed pleased.

I went on to explain Miko’s spiritual as well as humanitarian reasons for encouraging me to devote time at the hospital with the children on the ward. I then explained all the details and circumstances around my becoming Hibbah and her mother’s sponsor. I informed them that as of today, I had assumed financially responsible for their welfare. As a result, they would be living here with us and that was the reason I needed a live-in interpreter. They seemed moved that we would undertake such a financial burden.

I asked Jamila if she had a driver’s license and she said yes. I asked her if she had a car to which she replied no, she used her mother’s car for school. I told her that her duties would include taking Aziza to and from the hospital until Hibbah was discharge. She would also need to take Hibbah and her mother to any appointments or therapy that was needed whenever I or one of my wives didn’t accompany them. I asked about her driving record and she assured me it was clean. I told her I’d take her word for it and that she could use our Lexus as a personal vehicle. I had purchased a new Escalade and Mom preferred her Expedition. Dad drove a Mercedes. Her and her mother got wide-eyed, but Tariq just smiled and gave a slight nod.

After dinner, Monaavi and Leeya took the younger kids elsewhere while Tina and Tiya went off to do what tittering young girls do in their rooms. Mom, Dad, Priya and Miko accompanied me and the Mustafas to the study to get down to brass tacks.

I started off the talk by restating my offer and presented Tariq with the Jamila’s employment contract. He asked if I would pay her in cash, but I declined saying that I did everything legally, that the government would be involved because my two charges were here on a medical visa, and that Jamila would be like any other of my employees and have withholding taxes removed from her check. I did say that any personal items she may need could be purchased with the household expenses and she could save some money there. I also joked that when the girls had one of their “shopping frenzies,” she would no doubt be on the receiving end of my wives’ generosity. Jamila and her mom chuckled along with the other women.

Mom quipped, “Jamila, when we go shopping, we go shopping! There is a price to pay for spoiling these two like we do, isn’t there girls?”

Priya added, “As you always said, Mom, a girl’s best friend is a blank check.”

Dad groaned and said, “Tariq, I tell you, it’s a bloomin’ conspiracy!”

Tariq patted his breast pocket and replied, “John, I know what you mean.”

Tariq took a few moments to read the contract and asked several questions and seemed satisfied with my answers. He set it down on the desk, gave a sigh and looked at Adeela and then Jamila and said, “Well, I think your offer and this contract are a good one. I am very pleased with what I have seen in your home and believe that you live an upright life.

“Although we have lived here in America for twenty five years, you are the first American I’ve met that is willing to part with his wealth for the benefit of another Muslim. I can see that my daughter will live a life that she is not accustomed to and that is my only concern: that she remain humble and remember where she came from. She is a good girl: chaste, reverent, respectful and diligent.”

“Mr. Mustafa,” I assured, “My family and I will treat her as one of our own and protect her and treat her as a proper Muslim woman. I’m sure that with her living in a close family environment with us, she will undoubtedly become an adopted family member. Now, sir, may I have your answer? I have two Iraqi females that await your reply.”

He turned to his daughter and asked, “Jamila, are you willing to give up a year of studies to undertake this position?”

“Oh yes, Papa! I want this very much! Doing this job will make all the years of study worthwhile. After this, I can say that after all your and Mama’s years of sacrifice, I’ve helped make a difference in the lives of these two people.”

“Alright then. Before you sign, I want your word you will devote your energies and give your very best effort.”

“Mr. Michaels, ladies, Mama and Papa, I promise to do my best.”

“Sean. My name is Sean — not Mr. Michaels.” I pointed to Dad and added, “He’s Mr. Michaels.”

Dad put in, “That may be true, but you can call me John.”

“And me Joan,” Mom added.

Priya scolded with a smile, “Don’t you dare call me Mrs. Michaels or I’ll never take you shopping!”

Everyone chuckled and Miko said, “Me too.”

I handed Jamila the pen and she signed and I signed after her. I gave her a copy and she handed it to her father, I then asked, “Well, now to work. When can you start? You’ll need to move in first, and I hate to put you under the gun, but I need you as soon as possible.”

She said that she had spoken to the dean at school and was told all she had to do was call and they would drop her from the rolls. Her current classes were already paid for, so she had no financial burden to satisfy. She looked her father and asked, “Can I move my things tomorrow?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I’ll have to come back over and pick up your mother’s car, though.”

“How much stuff do you have?” I asked. “Will it all fit into a van?”

“Yes sir, All I have is my clothes and some personal things.”

“Stop the ‘sir’ stuff please: it’s Sean, okay?”

“Okay, Sean. I could fit it all in a van, why?”

“I’ll give you the keys to Monaavi’s van and you can make one trip, save your mother some gas and your father won’t have to bring your mother here just to pick up her car. Tariq, you and your wife are welcome anytime you wish to visit Jamila or meet her charges. Just give Hibbah and her mother a little time to get settled in first. After that, anytime is fine.”

“Thank you, Sean, you’re most kind.”

“No, thank you! Your daughter is a Godsend!”

I gave Jamila the spare set of keys to the van and after giving our parting salaams, I showed Jamila where the van was parked. I waved goodbye as they pulled out of the drive. As soon as I went back inside, everyone was in the family room, happy that our prayers were answered.

After some revelry, Miko and I took a walk to her garden. As we sat in the pagoda overlooking the pond, I put my arm around her and she laid her head on my shoulder. She looked up at me and said, “Sean, my life is filled with wonder. When I became a nurse, I wanted to make a difference in the world and help people. Over the years, I’ve helped many women bring their children into the world and I’ve helped save a few babies along the way. My career has always brought meaning to my life and satisfaction that I have made a small difference.

“When my personal life was destroyed, I lost sight of that. I just did my job and did it well, but I was only existing: not living. I was sleepwalking through life. But now? Now I sometimes feel guilty that I’m so happy, happier than anyone deserves to be.

“Right now, my senses are tingling they are so sensitive. I feel so close to the Lord that I pray constantly throughout the day giving thanks. I truly feel He has used me to bring Hibbah and Aziza into our lives. They will become a part of our family and be with us always — I just know it. I feel so honored and humbled to have the love of a man who not only loves me, but supports me — no matter what the challenge. My love for you grows inside me and as our child grows, so does my love, commitment and admiration for you. I have the love and support of my mother and sister, the love of my sister wives, our children and your parents as my support — all because of you. There are no words I could speak, some deed I could perform or feeling I could express that would convey the depth of the love in my heart for you. You are my love, my mate and my life.”

I cried silently as she softly spoke her profession of love. I kissed the top of her head and gently hugged her to me. I gave a composing sign and replied, “When I married Monaavi, I thought that God had blessed me beyond my wildest dreams. I never expected to marry again and if I hadn’t met you, I probably could have been relatively happy with that. What I know now is that I was incomplete and there was a part of me that was missing something.

“I must admit that for a good portion of my life, I have taken for granted all that has been given me. I was never appreciative of the fact that I’ve been blessed with everything anyone could want. I had looks, brains and wealth. To me, that’s just the way it was. Remember, I said ‘anyone.’

“What I didn’t appreciate most of all was the fact that I didn’t appreciate the love of God. I think I became a convert to Islam because it’s very structured. I needed that kind of structured guidance in my life. A lot of young men, like my father, got that structure from the military. But what I know of the tender, sweet love of God comes from my Christian background and my mother. When I think of God’s love for me, the psalms of David and the Gospel of John seem to express that more to my understanding. I, like most people, have their faith verified or supported by a seeing or experiencing a physical example.

“In you, I have seen the embodiment of God’s sweet, tender love. It’s like your explanation of clouds and rain. With you, I can see the beauty of God’s love in everything we see. I think it’s in the Book of Job where God asks Job who waters the flower in the desert that no one will ever see. I think, if I remember correctly, the verse goes something like “Too many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste it’s fragrance on the desert air.” Imagine… God waters a simple flower for His pleasure and no one else’s. Inside of me was a flower no one knew was there, not even me… but He did. You are the refreshing water that has made my soul bloom. There are no greater words I could say that express what’s in my heart than simply to say, ‘I love you, my little lotus flower.’”

“And I love you more.”