Sweet Misgivings

The last 2 years

Two years ago today, I instagram'd the moment I walked into my first retrenchment (I didn't know at the time)

Last year today after being told I did an amazing job, I was asked to leave for not being a cultural fit.
Hijab wearing muslim working for company who predominantly sold hard liquor, yeah I figured
But I took the job because I had no other means of income.

Its not lost on me, but I can't tell you what retrenchments does to your psyche, your confidence, your ability to say with certainty. I KNOW HOW TO DO MY JOB

Between friends who gave generously of their time:

my lawyer friend who helped me negotiate a package, my social media friend who gave me some part time work to tide me over, to the friend who gave me a home so I wouldn't have to worry about paying rent. To the friend and her family who opened their home and fed me all of you who helped me and helped me maintain a semblance of dignity. for those friends who made me cry and reminded me that I have a tribe …

What the F**k just happened?

I'm actually so hesitant to post this because I know some people will want more than I am prepared to give, say or do.

But I can't be silent not so much about whats happened, but what I discovered about myself in the process.

The thing that happened:
I usually offer my services in digital marketing for free for fundraisers and people who do community work. So when a local religious (sheigh) leader asked to meet me to discuss a project. I thought nothing of it. I've met with plenty of them to know how to conduct myself.

Side Note: as someone who has recently embraced Hijab, I understand there is additional scrutiny on how I conduct myself in muslim restaurants, especially with local scholars/leaders

Flag 1: said sheigh pitched up in casual clothes and I could smell the cologne on him and could see he had recently shaved and groomed. This made me nervous because the first thing he remarked on was how pretty I was.

Flag 2: he kept asking me, how long I was prepared to stay there …

shaking old memories lose

Last week, the ghadat opened a memory box that I had almost forgotten. While its made me pretty sad, I can't help and marvel at how far I have come.

The memory box was a little sketchy, in that it plays bits and pieces that overlap and blur and still cut like knives.

So poor.

When I tell people that I grew up poor and still have that mentality, I don't think they understood. Not that I ever explained it.

But after my dad has his toe amputated for gangrene. we didn't have much money. I remember exchanging cool drink bottles for cash for veggies to cook.

So poor, that when I was in agony because of teeth issues, the thing I remember was it was cheaper to extract than fix (fix meant multiple visits - that we couldn't afford.)

So poor that I cleaned my cousins house for money (she was a year younger than me)

look at me, Ms Digital Marketer with her own car, and poor person metality and look at how far you've come.

I never want to forget again.

I remain under a dark clou…

Simply Aasia

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