Story from Muxammadiyeva Sevinch Zaripovna

Central Asian teen girl in the corner of a building with stone walls engraved with designs. She's got white sunglasses on her head, long straight brown hair, a white summer dress, a purple tie die scarf, and a white purse and wristwatch.
Today, for some reason, I felt bad when I get up. Maybe it is because I went to bed very late? Actually, every day has been like this, I do not know if it is because it is summer, and I am at home every day. The reason why I slept late is because I could not look up from the phone and social networks.. Every day I say this will be the last time, but the end of it never seems to come.

    In the morning (I am embarrassed to even call it morning, it was around 11 o’clock), I got up, washed my face and hands, and went to the kitchen to have breakfast. There was no one at home, so I made breakfast for only myself. Suddenly I noticed there was no bread at home.I was chagrined, and I did not want to go to the store. Said “Ugh” and I got dressed. On top of that, my parents had not left any money at home, which made me furious. “Why do they do that, where can I get the money now? Do I have to starve myself?” – I scolded them with anger as it had been done on purpose. I started looking for money from my bag. 

On the top of that, I had spent all of my money previous day when I went out with my friends. Among various lipsticks, a napkin, a small mirror and similar things, I found a small amount of money. But it was not enough to buy baked bread, barely enough for loaf bread.I was obliged to buy loaf bread but no appetite to eat it from the morning, began complaining. Actually, I used to find excuses to complain about everything, even the summer heat. 

After reluctantly having breakfast, I went to lie down on my mother’s bed. I did not sleep, just laid my head on the pillow, I did not feel like doing anything, not even studying and not even doing housechoirs (in fact, I can not even remember I have studied since summer started).I put my hand under the pillow and touched something hard. I saw an old, big notebook. I opened it, it seems to be my mother’s, as the handwriting looked similar.

The first page was dated 2005. It was a diary. I wondered if I should read it. The year I was born, interesting, what had happened back then? Newlywed moments. The thoughts of newly married women wearing traditional clothes every day, sweeping the yard, and preparing sweet dishes for her husband who return from work crossed my mind. I began to read the diary. 

My mother had skillfull penned down the joy they felt when she told my father about her pregnancy two months after the wedding, the nights they discussed names, and the happiness of expecting a child. As I read, tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. Did they love me that much, did they look forward to me so eagerly, really they were so happy when I was born?! Actually, they love us even now, but we do not notice it because we are older, they do not pamper us like before, we also do not notice it because we do not care about their kindness. 

After reading 10-15 pages, I stopped, and what I read swirled around in my mind. Hardships, poverty… Are these really true?! But they never told us they had suffered so much! I was angry just for eating loaf bread earlier but they even had times of no enough money to buy bread. There were times when they did not have money at all, yet did they abandon life? No, patience, everything with patience. 

My mother writes: “Thanks to Allah, soon I will have my little cute happiness. These days will be forgotten. Even if I am struggling now, let my baby be born healthy. I am having severe toxicosis, I have no appetite. To say the truth, I have been craving kebabs for a while. The smell of it from the eatery below our apartment whets my appetite. I endure. 

May my husband’s work go well, then I will surely eat it. I have no desire for the food at home. I want to eat fruit. Apples… I opened the cupboard and fridge but there is nothing exept some sugar. I boiled water and made sweet tea to drink with bread. My nausea got worse. Neighbors suggest to eat things like yogurt, curd, ayran. Yogurt? How can I tell them that there is nothing ecxept sugar at home, and I’m enduring this toxicosis with sweet tea? Let me sleep now, maybe it will pass I said as I lay my head on the pillow for a moment. No, it did not. 

I got up to cook. There was no meat and carrots. I made macaroni soup with just potatoes. The smell of the meal I’m cooking made my nausea worse. I vomited 3-4 times until the food was ready. I decided to open the window to let in some fresh air, but the scent of kebab filled the air. “Is it hard to live in Tashkent, or just we live like this?” I sometimes ask myself. 

On the one hand, I wanted to go back to the village. Something caught in my throat. I wanted to cry, I want to wave my hand to all and buy some kebabs. But I can not, I have to be patient. After all, I can see how much my husband Orif is struggling. He is not eating properly either. When he got a sore throat and a fever last month and was bedridden, he jokingly said “ Because I had eaten some snow like children” mixed it with humor.

It was a cold, harsh winter day and was snowing heavily. He went to work in the morning after having breakfast at home and did not have lunch until late in the evening. “I had not have time to go to the store and buy something, I ate a hot baked bread, because the bakery is close by” he said. I kept quiet. I knew that no time means no money. He even saved money by not buying a liter of water from the store and drinking melted snow instead. How can I eat kebabs when he ate snow instead of water?! I believe that these days will pass. Our children will eat what they want. The only help I can give him is patience”. Put the diary back, I burst into tears. I felt sorry, sorry for my situation. 

"What am I doing? Am I a worthy child for them and their sacrifices? What useful thing have I spent my years on? Have I lived 18 years just going to school for hanging out with friends, coming home and sleeping under the pretext of being tired? Just because of I am a daughter? Can not a daughter be the pride of her parents? Can not a girl do anything? No, you have spent your life with making excuses and complaining. You did not value your parents, their hard work! Have you ever eaten snow instead of water? Did you ever think about your parents who could have everything for you but settled for sweet tea to cope with nausea?! Have you ever had a day when you were hungry? Have you ever eaten stale bread?” 

I go into the kitchen and open the fridge. It is filled with a lot of kinds of foods. Were you the one grumbling about eating a loaf bread in the morning? The one who was too lazy to go to the store and said “uff”? You are the eldest child, have you ever thought about how you are setting an example for your younger siblings? Yesterday, you asked your classmate where they get their motivation to read books and doing homework and if they could give you some. Here is your motivation. You always make excuses for not doing anything, looking at your other peers who are achieving, comparing your little differences with theirs, and saying that you cam not do anything. You have one year left, you will apply to university next year. You must study, did you hear me, you must study!”

       I went to the bathroom to wash my red and puffy tear-stained eyes, but suddenly my eyes fell on a piece of paper taped to the mirror.. Because of I washed my face in the kitchen earlier, I had not seen it. I remembered being angry earlier because they had not left money for bread, I had foolishly spoken without checking the shelf of perfumes.My mother had written: “There is money in the shelf, buy some bread and other food you want for breakfast.”

Muxammadiyeva Sevinch Zaripovna was born on October 10, 2005, in Tashkent. Currently, she is a second-year student at the Uzbek State University of World Languages, majoring in philology and teaching Spanish. She holds an IELTS score of 6.0 and is interested in learning languages and reading literary works.

One thought on “Story from Muxammadiyeva Sevinch Zaripovna

  1. Nice words Muxa. In Spanish we say “better to have breakfast alone than in bad company”mejor desayurar solos que mal acompañados”.
    A warm hug, and if you want a book of mine in Spanish (pdf), tell me .
    your email.
    Yrs.

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