Yemen: The escape

24 Sep

Guys you have to help me, I think my parents are trying to trap me in Yemen. They lured me into coming here on the pretence that it would only be for a few weeks, a little holiday before you have to be back for September, they said. Relax and get away from London, they said.

It’s been over a month, I am still here. When my dad booked my return tickets he made it a really late return date. I have to be back before then, he was informed. Its OK, he said. I’ll change it, he said.

Everyday I am here, I tell him baba please. Book my flight back. Just so I know, just so I am reassured. Ok, he said. Don’ worry.

Chapter two:

Baba comes homes. “No booking he says, flights full”. He shrugs his shoulders and sits on the sofa.
“Bring Coca cola” he shouts at me. In his thick Arabic accent, I don’t understand him. It’s been a thorn in our relationship for years.
Baba how, I plead. Political situation, people leaving, September busy. We’ll see. He always talks like this in English, two word sentences.

Chapter 3:

In the darkness of the electricity cuts, I think every night of how I got here. I think back on my life, the signs I missed. They treated me well my whole life to lull me into a fall sense of security I realise. I cry silently so as not to wake them, the tears forming puddles around my ankles. I get into my bed and imagine the tears forming a sea beneath me, the bed acting as my ship as I float back to London.

Chapter 4:

My father relents and I am very happy. He books my flight for Monday. But Monday was two days ago and I am still here. It is the month September of the year 2014 and war has broken out in Yemen (Almost. Its more of a coup/not really a coup thing going on but here’s not the place to discuss, this is about me). Conveniently. My dad hands me the phone smiling. I answer. The flight is cancelled they say. Who are you?? I yell. They hang up. And my dad laughs and laughs as I scream and scream. I turn to poetry.

I am still here,
But I don’t want to be here.
I want to be home but I am trapped.
Trapped like a DVD in a DVD player with the electricity off so I can’t press the eject button (This has happened).
Trapped like a bee in a flower with no pollen but with some honey that the previous bee lef t behind so now I (the bee) am stuck to the honey.
Etc. etc.


Guys do you think this is enough to get a book deal??? Plenty of Muslim women have made careers out of far smaller tragedies, and everything I’ve said here is the truth, if a little embellished. I know the language isn’t great but I’m really going for the whole emotional trauma affecting my language capabilities vibe. I spoke to a friend about this and she reckons I should stay here for at least 6 months for this story to sell but I really do want to come home plus there’s already a book about a British Yemeni girl who gets trapped in Yemen (it just happens so often) so I’m thinking of a new angle, Yemen: The escape. Either Emirates airline resumes in the next few days, which I know isn’t very exciting but I can massage this, or I book a flight on one of the airlines that is available or I travel down to the port city of Aden, get on a boat and sail to Djibouti and take a flight from there. My dad suggested all of these helpfully, but obviously I’ll omit that these were his suggestions, he won’t mind. Yes, this will be a story of female empowerment. How I used my western upbringing and feminine wiles to escape and come back home to the UK, where I belong, kind of.

3 Responses to “Yemen: The escape”

  1. Nura October 15, 2014 at 5:13 PM #

    Woahh this isn’t a true story is it??
    Very suspensful!

    • poorlittlemuslimgirl November 13, 2014 at 6:11 PM #

      haha I was actually stuck in Yemen because of the political situation and this all is very loosely based on the truth, but my parents are lovely! Just taking the piss out of Muslim women misery memoirs xx

    • poorlittlemuslimgirl November 13, 2014 at 6:11 PM #

      and read part 2! xxx

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