Abdullah and his family finally made it to his father's hometown.
The roads all looked the same unpaved, dusty, uneven. As the car moved through the streets, Abdullah saw rows of small shops, people sitting outside, beggars by the roadside. Everything felt familiar, yet distant, like a place he knew but didn't quite belong to.
Their first stop was a house that once belonged to his father's eldest brother.
That uncle had passed away years ago, leaving the home behind. Abdullah's father had given it to his cousin Abdul. Abdul was technically his cousin, but he was nearly twenty-five years older. He had a daughter who was a few years younger than Abdullah.
Abdul had siblings scattered across the world Ammar in Portugal, Dawood in Australia, and Maryam in England with her two children. The family felt spread thin, stretched across countries and time zones.
Abdul himself was tall, with slicked-back black hair and a serious face. Despite that, he was laid back and respectful. Abdullah watched as he greeted his parents, offering condolences and speaking gently. He kept asking if they needed anything, making sure everyone was comfortable.
Abdul's daughter, Fatima, wandered around the yard, stumbling as she walked. The sight of her lightened Abdullah's mood. She often called him "uncle," which always made him smirk.
"Uncle, push me on the swing," she'd say innocently.
Abdullah would push her again and again, playing whatever game, she asked for. For a while, he forgot where he was.
Nearby lived his father's other older brother, the only one still alive. Abdullah never felt warmth around him. His presence felt cold. colder even than his father's usual seriousness. One of his cousins, Ibrahim, lived there too. Ibrahim was much older, and Abdullah wasn't close to him.
They did have a parrot, though.
"Squawk, squawk, squawk."
Abdullah found himself watching the bird more than the people.
His favourite place in his father's hometown was Uncle Rashid's house.
Uncle Rashid was his father's cousin and had four children. His daughters, Hafsa and Zaynab, were quiet and polite. His son Qasim lived in England. Then there was Yunus.
Yunus was much older than Abdullah, but he was the only one who took him out.
"Hey, want to go for a spin on the bike, fatty?" Yunus said one day.
"Yeah, and don't call me fatty," Abdullah replied.
Yunus laughed. They rode around town, the wind brushing Abdullah's face.
"You hungry? Want a sweet?" Yunus asked.
"Yeah."
"Of course you do, fatty," Yunus said, laughing as he bought one anyway.
Abdullah got annoyed at him constantly, but he also had the most fun with him.
Uncle Rashid's house was merged with another home his cousin Noor's. Noor was about nine years older than Abdullah. Her father, another one of Abdullah's father's brothers, had also passed away. She lived with her mother, sharing the space with Uncle Rashid's family.
Noor was extremely loving.
"Abdullah, I'm so sorry for your loss," she said, pulling him into a tight hug. "I hope you're okay."
He really liked Noor. She was one of the few people who made him feel better.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said quietly.
"Don't worry," she smiled. "We're going to have so much fun here. Just wait."
Over the next few days, Abdullah genuinely enjoyed being there. Noor dragged him everywhere with her. They watched movies and cartoons together on the bed.
"What do you want to watch? Do you like this one?" she asked.
"Yeah, it's good," Abdullah replied.
She hugged him constantly, grabbing his face affectionately.
"You'd look so pretty with makeup," she teased. "Can I put some on you? It's okay if you don't want to."
Abdullah didn't have the heart to say no. She looked so happy.
For those moments, he almost felt normal.
They later visited his father's sister. His aunt had a son, Sami, a clever boy who had gotten a visa to Ireland and was set to arrive in a year or two. Her daughter, Safiyah, was innocent and gentle, even though she was nearing twenty. His aunt spoiled Abdullah and Ali endlessly, feeding them and fussing over them.
But no matter how busy the days were, the nights always came.
One night, back at Abdul's house, Abdullah lay beside his mother, trying to sleep. The silence pressed in on him.
It's so quiet. Everyone's probably asleep.
That's when the thoughts started.
All those times Nano called… and I barely talked.
I should've talked to her more while she was still here.
There is no next time.
I'll never get to see her again.
I'll never bring her to Ireland. Never introduce her to my friends. They'll never know how great she was.
Then he remembered his mother's voice from before.
"Pray for Nano, alright? So, she can get better quickly."
"I'm so useless," he thought.
Why didn't I pray?
Abdullah began sobbing silently.
"If I had just prayed, she might still be alive," he thought desperately. "Allah might have saved her. I'm so stupid."
"It's all my fault."
"I could've saved her. I could've helped her. But I did nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"Nano did so much for me, and I couldn't even pray for her. I couldn't even talk to her."
"I really thought everything would be okay."
"I just let her die."
His sobbing grew louder.
His mother woke up and pulled him close.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Mama," he cried, barely able to speak, "it's my fault. I should've listened to you. If I had just prayed, she might've survived. Allah might've saved her."
"I should've talked to her more. I'm so stupid. It's all my fault."
"Stop," his mother said firmly.
Abdullah froze.
She wiped his tears and looked at him carefully.
"It's not your fault," she said softly. "You're just a kid. What could you have done?"
"Everyone tried their best," she continued. "Abuji spent so much money. They took her to doctors. She was just too sick."
"When someone's time comes, it comes. Allah has given all of us a certain amount of time. Nobody knows when it ends only Allah."
"The only thing we can do now is pray for her and be happy for her."
"She's in heaven now," she said gently. "She's happier than she's ever been. She has everything."
"But Nano would be sad to see you like this," she added. "She would want you to be happy."
"Don't you want Nano to be happy?"
"Yeah," Abdullah whispered, wiping his tears.
"So be happy for her," his mother said. "Be strong."
Her words echoed in his mind as he lay there.
Be happy for Nano.
Be strong for your family.
I couldn't save Nano.
I couldn't help her.
But I'll help the people who are still here.
I won't let anyone else down again.
I won't be useless anymore.
I'll be happy. I'll do it for
nano…