"Come on, Aunty Fadeela, you know Dad has forbidden me from talking to anyone, right? And I swear, I'll stop coming to your place too." "Well, if you're giving him so much attention, then you're disrespecting your father. If that's what you want to do, go ahead and finish yourself off." "I told you all, only a soldier for me... Insha Allah, my husband will be a soldier. If he's not a soldier, I won't marry him." "So, what is it that you've seen in soldiers? I don't get it." "Ah, Aunty Fadeela, you've asked a good question." "Their uniforms look good on them, and soldiers are handsome. They also carry themselves with pride, which impresses me. Wow, Aunty Fadeela, soldiers are just amazing!" "But may Allah guide you... Ameen, Aunty, even if he's not a Muslim, as long as he loves me, that's enough." Aunty Fadeela's eyes widened in shock... She just realized today that her sister is not well. "Amelia, you're so crazy that you said even if he's not a Muslim... well, thank goodness you heard what I said... Now, I'm going home before Mom starts looking for me." "Okay, may God make things right... useless soldier." Amelia stood still... feeling upset, she began to cry and left the house. As she walked away, wiping her tears, she flagged down a tricycle. "Take me to Hotoro," she said, giving the driver directions on where to drop her off. She cried so much in the tricycle that the driver, unable to keep quiet, turned around and asked, "Miss, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" She pouted angrily and replied, "What’s your business with me? I don't like this kind of thing, okay? Are you going to keep staring at me? Stop here, I want to get off." "May God soothe your heart," he said, continuing to drive. She pouted again, saying, "You better know I don't like being stared at, and you all should just mind your own business, yet you'll all get into trouble together." The tricycle driver, wanting to continue the conversation, asked again, "With who?"
