My Own Destiny

My name is Maliha, Maliha Young. I have always lived in my country with my family. My father is the one that provides for our family while my mother tends the house and my brother, sister and I, have to take care of the family farm. We don't have much but we do have plenty. I was the youngest member of the family, my sister was two years older than me and our brother was five years older. We got along fine, we were respectful and kind to each other, in the end, we knew we were the only ones we could count on without a question. When I was little, all I dreamt about was going to school, getting a degree and helping my family with anything I could.  I was just about to graduate from elementary school when I realized that it wouldn't be possible. My father and I had days of arguments when I urged him, pleaded even, for him to let me continue studying. It was no use. In the end, my mother sided with him and told me where my place was. There was nothing I could do, nowhere I could ask for help. This was how things were in my country. Girls were only allowed to study elementary, if their parents let them, or until their parents made them drop out. As women, we didn't have much voice, our opinions never mattered.  There was no point fighting it. That's just how things were. How our culture has been for generations. Every so often, my brother would teach me a couple of things he learned in school, it was my favorite part of the day. He was so patient and so smart, I was sure he was going to become a great doctor as he had always wanted. We made sure my father never found out about my brother's teachings, he would be furious and both my brother and I would be punished.  One day, everything changed... I was sixteen at the time. I remember being outside under the burning sun, carrying buckets of water towards our small barn where our two cows and horses were waiting. It was a very hot day and it didn't help that we practically lived in the desert.  "Hello girl," I said cheerily as I petted the cow in front of me before filling their water container. The cow looked at me with its big eyes, calmly. I smiled and continued on towards the horses that were already neighing desperately. "I know you're anxious to go out and stretch your legs but we need to wait until the temperature is better or else you'll only hurt yourself," I said, trying to soothe the desperate, white horse in its stable.  The horse huffed as if he could understand me. I rolled my eyes and filled his bucket with water. His name was Bird, he was my favorite even though I would never admit it.  When I was done filling all the buckets after a couple of trips to the family well, I was exhausted. There were drops of sweat dripping down my forehead, my covered arms were starting to feel itchy; I needed a shower.  Since I was done with my chores for the day, I headed back to our house. Inside, I looked at the clock and smiled cheerfully since my brother, Eli, was about to get home from school. That meant he had new stories to share with me.  The sound of someone clearing their throat startled me. I jumped and turned around to see my father looking at me with so much seriousness on his face that it was uncomfortable. He was usually a very calm man that always had a smile on his face.  "Father, I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I thought you were at work," I said with confusion clear in my voice.  The older man didn't say anything at first. He studied me, his arms crossed in front of him until he let out a deep sigh and I was sure I wasn't going to like what he was about to say. "Maliha, we have to talk about something important." All the color drained from my face and slowly, I nodded. "Sure, let me just take a quick shower first," I said. and before he could object, I was halfway to my room where a fresh set of clothes was waiting for me. I hurried into the bathroom and locked the door after me. Once I was all set, I stepped out of the bathroom with my dirty clothes on one hand and headed over to the laundry room to set them in the dirty clothes bin.  Back in the living room, my father was still like I had last seen him only this time, my mother was present as well. When their eyes settled on me, they didn't have to say anything to me for me to know I had to sit down and listen.  "Maliha, would you like the short version or the long version of what I am about to tell you?" my father asked, he knew I was impatient and preferred to hear things they had to say to me, directly.  "Short version please," I said, calmer than I actually felt.  My parents shared a look and nodded. "Maliha, a young man has come to me to ask me for your hand," he finally said. My eyes widened and my body stiffened visibly. What? Unconsciously, I was already shaking my head in both disbelief and objection. "No," I whispered, my words were barely audible.  My mother was quick to send a glare in my direction. "Hush Maliha, your father is not done speaking," she said sternly. I quickly nodded and pursed my lips together.  "He has asked that the ceremony take place soon, in exchange, he will provide us with a large sum of money to help us. Once you are pregnant with his child, our family will be of better social status and depending on whether it's a boy or a girl, we will receive a generous donation from his family," my father continued, as he spoke, his eyes never met mine.  My heart stopped. My jaw opened in disbelief. This isn't happening. "Father, please, don't make me. I don't want to marry, whomever he is. I won't do it," I cried out as I sat straighter and looked at my father in the eye.  "Maliha, it's not up to discussion. You are going to marry and that's final," my mother raised her voice, there was a fire in her eyes that told me she was becoming frustrated. I looked at her in disbelief and then back at my father.  My mother had been lucky. When my father had asked for her hand in marriage it had been because they genuinely liked each other and enjoyed their company. My father was a just and noble man, he respected his wife and loved her, he gave her a voice, at least as much as he could.  I may not be so lucky. I knew that one day I could be facing this. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to be ready. I didn't want to marry a stranger, I didn't want to be an object that belonged to some prestiged man. I wanted my own destiny.  "Father, please don't make me do this," I whispered, tears were beginning to fill my eyes because I could already anticipate the answer.  My father sighed hopelessly and shook his head, "I'm sorry Maliha, we need this. You are going to marry in the upcoming days." My heart shattered then, I was alone. No one was going to come and rescue me. I lived in a country controlled by men and their desires. Women were nothing more than possessions, the ones who tended the house and took care of the children. I didn't want that.  "Father-" I began, my voice began to crack.  My father turned to look at me. His eyes held empathy for a second before they changed into a neutral and frustrated expression. "Don't argue, daughter. The deal has been made." All the last hope I had kept inside of me, vanished. I felt as if I couldn't breathe.  Without another word, I ran into my room and closed the door behind me before falling onto my bed, crying and suffocating the sobs under a pillow.