Striving for Etou!

To my sweet child etou.....
what can i tell you etou? my life hasnt treated me so well. It hasnt been just a simple crystal stair. It had dust,mud,demons, enemies, and all that time i only got stronger. All that climbing ,running, escaping,my fear, my pain, my suffering, and i never thought i would end up doing it for you. It was a suffering that no one felt, a sad experience that no one saw, the pain that no one knew, and i never thought that i would have someone know what i had felt all that time. It was always me on the top of the Moroccan tower.

I was only 5 years old when i lost my sweet family. I can still visualize them in my mind. Sometimes i had forgotten their faces and they seem so far away. There was one thing that still kept them alive and it because they lived in my heart since the day they took their last breath , but sometimes i had left them behind unintentionally. I was alone in the village of rabat. I felt like i was burried alive. I was unseen by many people in the village and i knew then that i stood apart from everyone else. I became homeless at the age of 6. I would always struggle vigorously to eat or to get an education. I wore only one pair of gandora ,a traditional moroccan dress, that my mother made for me 2 years ago before her passing. It was a warm black velvet dress that my mother had made with love in every stitch. It was all worned out. Most of the time i got disgusted by it, but it had given me warmth and physical sensation of my mother. My dress wasnt the only thing that made me so different from the kids in the village. I had so many flaws that werent fixed. I had one pair of biege sandals that were all soiled with dirt. My almond hazel eyes were the only features of my face that stood out from my disgraced face of shame. My face always would look murkey. No one could tell my facial expressions, they were always gloomy, cheerless, and dark. I was not sure who i was. All i remembered was my name, nadia.


I spent one year struggling to live my life like a normal child. Although, i knew that i would never be normal. I learned to survive even though i didnt have a home, food, clothes, or love. No one supported me, but myself. I became informed that i had what i had. I became aware of my life and what i was surrounded by everyday.I went to a public school in rabat. My friend , Ali, who was 65 at the time signed me up for this school. I was pleased that i could finally have something to look forward to. I felt fortunate for the first year going to school, but as time went on, students had a nasty attitude towards my differentiation. They were all the same with their wicked and evil character. School became a source of danger for me , and me only. I knew that i would defeat them and stay in school. Ali didnt know what i went threw with threats , hate, and fear of these devils. I couldnt tell him. I went to get my education to a place where i was at risk of being in a danger zone. First i went to school for the food. I couldnt afford to eat anything. I figured the free milk,bread,pizza, and chicken was worthy. I would walk to school 3 miles with my worn out sandals. The heal of my feet were a distressing sensation. My legs were both turning into a tomatoe.They changed their color into red once i started walking. I would always be late to school due to the fact that i had pain and took 15 minute break. Sometimes i would make it to school all wet and soaked up by the rain. I was taken in by absorption. Nothing felt right at that moment. When i did make it to school, the teacher would have understanding or a sense of humanity . The children all looked at me like i was an alien. The teacher would always ask me where i lived. I couldnt tell her that i was an orphan child living in the streets of rabat. Ali couldnt do anything for me. He too was a homeless.

At the age of 8 i droped out of school. Ali offered me a job to become his assistant in shoe cleaning. I couldnt take the pain of kids making fun of me in school, or the teacher treating me like an alien. I simply stoped going to school. Me and ali sat on the streets with his shoe cleaning materials. It was summer when we started working. We had to work 5 hours in the morning to get money for food. We started working from 7:00 to 12. I suddenly felt human again. I had company that kept me going. It was humid and hot out side. We didnt get customers until later on which made us less money for Ali and i. I would always get so bored sitting there watching people pass by looking so cheerful, glad, and complete. I saw some kids passing by with their parents and all they worried about was what doll they wanted to play with. Instead, i worried about if i had enough food later on. I wasnt sure if Ali saw my pain as he already had a pain of his own. He would always stare down at me and try to cheer me up. He would get up and cross the street, and come back with a candy bar. He comes back smiling and squinting his eyes as if he has a secret to tell me.He sits back next to me and places me on top of his lap ,and takes out a 1 penny candy bar for me. I immidiatly felt warmth and love of Ali. Joy would spread through my heart that i feel existment inside.I would suddenly feel as if Ali had made me feel like the child i was once feeling in my pass. I would embrace him so tightly as if i was trying to keep him secure, and show him how extraordinary he had brightened my day. As aftternoon gets near, and the sun sets Ali would get up and reach for my hand. We would walk together in that silent dark streets of the state of morocco. There we were Ali and i.

We spent 2 years doing this job for our lives. We both suffered greatly and no help was given to us. Of course nothing changed . I still wore my gandora and my worn out sandals. My face was still filled with dirt. I was still nadia , only i was older and wiser. Ali was getting older by second and his back was still distressing him. I was too young to give a hand to Ali, but i remembered myself being the wall for Ali whenever he felt pain or sadness.

At the age of 11, i felt deeply affected by my unpleasant life. Nothing worked for me at the time. I was not in the proper condition. Everything in my life was a pain. Well , except for Ali. I didnt want to live in Rabat anymore. I wanted to crawl under a rock and burry myself. My heart was sobbing, my eyes became dry , and my tear became blood being spilled.