Two days
before Nabeel leaves for the last time, I find him standing at the kitchen
counter with his friend, Zakariah. I don’t know his rank, but Zakariah serves
directly under Nabeel in the army and only lives two miles down the road. The
two of them always seem to be on leave at the same time.
Their
voices are low, almost secretive, but I catch the look in Nabeel’s eye. Except
back then, I didn’t recognize it.
“What are
you guys talking about?”
Seeing me
enter and hearing my voice, they both look my way before exchanging glances.
That gleam in Nabeel’s eyes disappears.
I
excitedly run up to the two of them. “Tell me!”
Nabeel
looks back down at me as he stops leaning against the counter. Reaching down,
he ruffles my hair. “You’re too young to know about that, Zaid.”
“Aww,
what’s that about? I’m not part of the group now—”
My brother
playfully flicks me on the forehead as he crouches down a little. “I’m sorry,
buddy. Maybe next time.”
“You’re
always saying that.”
Zakariah
laughs as he comes closer to me. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s just
not fair, Nabeel. You’re a horrible brother for leaving Zaid out like that.”
I see a
concerned expression momentarily wash over Nabeel’s face.
However,
Zakariah glances up at Nabeel and shoots him a quick wink as he continues. “Why
don’t I just tell you then?”
My eyes
light up. “Really! You’re the best, Zakariah.”
Coming to
his knees, he puts his arm around my shoulders and leans close, acting as if he
is about to tell me the world’s biggest secret. “You see, Zaid, your brother
and I were having a discussion about which one of us would win in a wrestling
match. We all know that I’m stronger, but he just won’t admit it.” He sighs and
shakes his head as he looks back at Nabeel. “But you agree with me, don’t you,
Zaid?”
I don’t
hesitate to respond. “No way!”
He moves
his head back in surprise. “Huh?”
“Sure
you’re pretty strong, but my brother would beat you!”
Zakariah
is slow to reply, taken aback by the statement. “C’mon, Zaid. You do realize
that I’m older than him—”
“Age has
nothing to do with it, Zakariah! My brother was the school’s wrestling
champion. He wouldn’t lose to you.” I whip my head to look back at Nabeel.
“Right, big brother?”
Nabeel is
slightly smiling now.
With a
chuckle, Zakariah rises back to his feet. “Alright, alright. Well, I best be
off, Nabeel. We can finish our little discussion
next time.”
Nabeel
shakes his hand. “Give my greetings to your folks.”
“I will.”
Zakariah grabs my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “See you, Zaid—no, sorry: Dr. Zaid.”
Did he
really just call me that? How did he know?
Hearing
Zakariah’s footsteps grow faint, I turn back to Nabeel. He opens the fridge
door and rummages through it.
“You told
him?” I ask.
Nabeel
doesn’t look my way. “I tell everyone.”
I watch
him pull out a pound of chicken meat rolled up in brown paper as he turns back
to me.
“Aisha is
visiting her parents tonight and Abbi and
Ummi are having dinner with friends.
So looks like it’ll just be you and me.” Nabeel shoots me a wink. “I’m going to
make some shwarma for dinner. Just
the way you like it: tomatoes, lettuce, onions, lots of chicken, and even more spices.” He starts setting the
ingredients on the countertop. “I went by Sohail’s shop today. The mangoes he
was selling were ripe, so I picked some up. We can have them for dessert. That
is if we have room.”
He looks
back at me with a smile, but it fades when he sees my expression.
“What’s
wrong, Zaid?”
I glance
at the ground before replying, “I don’t think I want to be a doctor anymore.”
“Why not?”
“…I don’t
think I can.”
He takes a
few steps towards me before crouching down to come to my eye level, urging me
to continue.
“Ms.
Farooq said I’m not smart enough.”
“She did?”
“I got the
lowest score in the class on the last math test. She said I’m not cut out for
it.”
“I didn’t
realize Ms. Farooq could tell the future.”
I don’t
respond.
“Did you
tell Abbi or Ummi?”
I shake my
head.
He takes a
deep breath and glances down at my feet. His eyes look like he’s weighing
something, wondering if he should say it or not. When he does speak, his voice
is different. It’s no longer speaking to me as his younger brother but as his
friend. “You know, Zaid, Zakariah was joking about what we were talking about.”
“Really?”
He nods
before his gaze focuses back on me. “Not even a few weeks ago, my soldiers and
I were in a bit of a… well, situation.”
“What
happened?”
“We were
in Homs. The people we were fighting—the rebels—had heavy control of some
neighborhoods. We were trying to take them back. It was…”
A silence
ensues as he searches for the word.
“Difficult.”
Nabeel pauses. “Some soldiers were pinned. The army tried an airstrike to break
the rebel lines. It was a heavy bombardment that leveled entire streets. The
cost was high. But we couldn’t break their lines.”
I don’t interrupt
him.
“Our
intelligence said it was a lost cause. We were ordered to abandon the soldiers.
They said we would lose more men than we would save. But even the army’s
‘intelligence’ doesn’t know everything.” He looks away. “Zakariah and I
disobeyed our commanding officer. As did our men. Those soldiers that were
pinned weren’t just men. They were my friends… my brothers. And I would never
abandon them, even if it led to…”
For a
moment, his eyes again display that same gleam, but it disappears as quickly as
it came.
His gaze
again meets mine. It’s firmer this time, stronger. “It doesn’t matter what
people say, Zaid. It doesn’t matter what the facts say. All that matters is
what you say. And, maybe more
importantly, what you do.”
I hang on
his words, unable to say anything.
“Why do
you want to be a doctor, Zaid?”
“I’ve
always wanted to.”
“But why?”
“Because…
I don’t want to see people suffer. I… I want to be the one to help others. I
want to save lives, make a difference and put others before myself. I want to
make this world a better place. Just like the Imam always talks about.”
Nabeel
smiles. “Never forget that. And never go back on your word. No matter what
happens. Please never forget one thing, Zaid: I love you. No matter the
circumstance—no matter if I’m so far from you that you may never see me again,
know that I’m with you.” He presses his finger against my heart. “I believe in
you, Zaid.”
About the Author
. The prize is
.
is an historical/inspirational novel that was published in 2016. It received several accolades after its release, including the Independent Press Award in May 2017.
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