2008
Fatima waited.
Her mother showed the
“tickets”, bought with six months’ salary. Taking the
one remaining lifejacket, she clipped it round her
daughter and kissed her silver amulet. Men gestured them
aboard.
The sea was high, huge foam-flecked waves battered
the dinghy. As it took on water, the motley group wailed and
prayed. Then a shout went up.
“Land!”
A man laughed maniacally.
***
2018
Fatima waited.
“MA in International Law, Fatima Hassan.”
On cue, resplendent in her black
gown, a tiny hamsa hand concealed beneath the hood,
Fatima strode confidently across the stage to shake the Chancellor’s
hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment