''The story of Aidina
''
It’s a quiet Wednesday afternoon. In fact, it is quieter than any other, Aidina thought while walking back home from school – a journey of 15 kilometers. She couldn’t help but imagine her future—the courtroom, the degree in her hands, advocating, debating, all the people she would help. A small smile formed on her lips. I will go to Bishkek, she thought. No one’s waiting for me with ready hands, but I will work for it.
Someone was indeed waiting for her.
But not for the right reasons.
The tires screeched. A door flung open. A painful, tight grasp on her hand wrists.
“Let go of me! No!” Aidina screamed, struggled, and kicked. She yelled, her throat dry of cries, breathless and desperate, cried, dug her nails into the skins… it wasn’t enough. The engine roared, the wheels turned, and her fate faded into darkness along with her eyes.
As a drop of tear streamed down her cheek, she shook her head in disbelief.
Yet deep down, she knew. Nothing was rare. How typical.
Public space.
A group of men.
A girl, alone.
Screams.
Resistance.
Yet useless…
She has been kidnapped. To be a wife.
And you don’t have a choice.
[[Episode 2 |Episode 2]]The sounds of cups clinking. Tea pouring. Women. Whispers.
An elderly woman with a white elechek sat down, carefully eyeing on Aidina. She smiled with a smug, confident look, and shook her head.
“Why such a sad face? You should be glad someone married you.”
The other women made approving sounds, mumbling unintelligible words.
“This, this is not fair. It isn't right.” Aidina disagreed with her last strength. Her body was weak, but her words were firm.
“He is a good man. You should be grateful.” The elderly woman said with a smug smile.
“Please, just let me go,” Aidina whispered desperately, “I am not meant to be here. I was going to Bishkek and I-”
“Why, all women are meant to be married.” Interrupted another, slightly younger woman. “Family first.” Agreed another one.
“No, I will study. I have dreams. Aspirations. I will be a lawyer–”
A sneer interrupted the girl.
“Dreams? You belong here. As a wife. A mother. A kelin.” She said assertively. “Besides, this is how things are done. Everyone gets married this way. It is our tradition.”
A heavy feeling pressed down Aidina’s heart.
The other women agreed. “We all got married this way.”
“This is just how things are done.” They repeated.
[[Resist | Resist]]
[[Give in | Give in]]“No this is wrong! I never wanted to get married, not this young! I don’t even know him, why would I just stay here with all of you? This entire tradition, this hell of a tradition, is wrong! How many fates are you destroying? How many lives? I have my own life, and it’s not with you, not with him!” Aidina argued assertively.
“Shhhh. And that’s where you’re wrong.” Said the elderly woman. “If you get out of here, unmarried, little girl…”
“You will dishonor your family.” Another younger woman, of about twenty-five, finished the sentence. “No one wants a used woman. Which you will be, after staying at another man’s house.”
Aidina was shocked. This entire idea was not new to her, not at all. She heard the stories of her relatives, sisters, and friends, the way they all get married and the tactics they use to keep the girl. But when it happened to her, personally, she was unable to react, unable to speak, nothing. It was so sudden, so frightening, wrongful, and dreadful.
Little she knew how intricately planned all of this was.
“He had been looking at you for weeks. Zholdosh noticed you long before, when you would come out of school.” A woman in her thirties said.
“Exactly, I am still at school! You cannot marry a seventeen year old!” Aidina protested.
“Except, you can. My brother is “friends” with the man who works at the civil registry, and you could get married in no time. The young girl who spoke previously replied calmly.
The corruption was no surprise. Kyrgyzstan was full of “friends”, cash, and “solved” problems.
“No, someone has to bring justice in. I will sue you,” her voice was trembling. Partially from anger, but also from self-doubt. Adina continued, “This is illegal, your son will be in jail, and I will leave.”
Hearing legal consequences, the elderly woman’s eyes flashed. Her face darkened, and the tone was immediately changed.
“Shut up, you silly woman. You should be ashamed, and you will be, if you leave here. As I said before, you will be a dirty, used girl, bringing shame and dishonor to your family. It’s best if you marry my son, who is a worthy young man.”
Aidina was flabbergasted. Her head was pulsing, her blood boiling, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
[[Resist | Resist2]]
[[Give in | Give in]]Aidina signed heavily. Her eyelids felt heavy, she leaned back on the wall, and tears streamed down her soft cheeks. After a tiring day of stress, resistance, and pain, she submitted. And they were also right. Weren’t they? It is how things are done. Tradition. The heavy feeling came back. We all get married this way…
Seeing she succumbed, the elderly woman laughed delightedly.
“Good. That’s how things are done. Go, Aizada, tell your brother the news. We must arrange the marriage formally. Now, go!”
The younger woman that spoke before hurried in a rush. “Zholdosh!”
And that’s how things were done.
Everything flashed before Aidina’s eyes at the moment.
Books. University. Diploma. The courtroom. Advocacy.
A smile was forming on her lips. A soft, sweet smile. Then the smile turned bitter..
Public space. A group of men. A girl. Car. Screams. Resistance. Yet useless…
Aidina suddenly burst out crying. She was broken. No one would ever know, would ever think, or remember, that she was someone else’s daughter. A youthful, intelligent, strong girl. No one cares about her excellent grades at school, her participation in the classroom, her curiosity, intelligence, potential, no one, absolutely no one, will care. Everything, everything she had dreamed of, thought of, everything she studied, loved, aspired, were gone. Gone, gone, gone! She was now to be wife, a mother, a kelin, a slave, and just another girl. She was to raise another daughter who will turn out just like her, and a son that’s just like his father. Another man. Another woman. In the rural area of Kyrgyzstan.
But there was nothing she could do.
It was how things were done. It was tradition.
Or, could she have changed something?
Anything?
END OF STORY ONE.
[[Story 2, Sequence | STORY 2]]
“I don’t care about any of your outdated, harmful, toxic traditions! I will leave here, pursue higher education, and fight for the rights of other women!” She cried with a trembling voice.
“Except you can’t. And that’s final.” Said the elderly woman bitterly. Angrily, she left the room, accidentally pushing the cup down the table as she passed by. The cup shattered. Like Aidina’s heart. It seemed to reflect, to foreshadow, to predict her future. Just a shattered, unimportant cup, used by many, used by all.
Aidina knew that her words were useless. They would never comprehend. They would never let her go. So she decided to run. She could smell the summer air breezing through the windows. How wonderful life is, outside, just a few steps further… She thought while running towards the door.
It was locked. How obvious. She knew. But she was desperate. Aidina ran towards the window.
Locked.
She looked at the back door. It was open. The heat was impossible to bear with a completely shut house.
But the women blocked her way.
“Oh, my heart, my heart!” Cried the elderly woman.
“You are breaking our hearts!” Added the sister of the groom.
Aidina stopped. What was going on?
“Please, please marry my son.” The woman continued on her knees. She held Aidina’s legs, grasping tightly, which forced a frowned look from the young girl.
“He is the only one I have. He must marry. You are a good girl, we see that. I will suffocate in pain if he loses such a wonderful diamond as you.” The grasp tightened.
Aidina’s initial thoughts were completely lost in shock. This woman, who was just calling her a dirty, used girl, started calling Aidina a “diamond”. What was she going to say, anyway? What can she say, to such inhumane, immoral people?
“No,” she said firmly. “I don’t belong here. Think about your own daughters, how would you feel if they were kidnapped?”
Little she knew that this woman in front of her sold her own daughters for a few livestock. A cow, three chickens, two sheeps. Typical. Back here in rural Kyrgyzstan.
The elderly woman laid down on the cold floor. The door was right in front of her. “If you step over me right now, I will curse you until the day of your death, and you will be unhappy, lonely, dishonored, and suffering your entire life.”
The choice was Aidina’s. Or perhaps it was never there.
[[Resist | Resist 3]]
[[Give in | Give in]]“What is this tea?” A sudden bump on the table alarmed Aidina. It was a man of about fifty, quite unfit, and very revolting. Not because of the appearance, but the nature of his actions, his manners, and the entire personality.
“Sorry, I’ll change it right away.” She replied, ignoring her detest towards the man.
“Is this your new daughter-in-law? It’s hard to judge but you know… Ulan’s new daughter-in-law is always so worthy of praise, not only her tea but the food is also amazing. You’ve seen her, haven’t you?” The man said to the mother-in-law, still chewing on the food Aidina made and served.
“Yes, yes, I know. What can I do, my poor son… guess that is fate. She has gotten much better though, you should have seen her when she just came here.” An elderly woman with a veil in her head said condescendingly, eyeing Aidina.
Aidina clenched her fists, holding onto the edge of her dress. But how unfair, I didn’t even want to come here…
[[Episode 2 | Tea - Episode 2]]She took a deep breath. A foot set off, and Aidina stepped over the woman, rushing for the door.
She ran as fast as she could, not looking back, with her body trembling, breath shaking.
Then Aidina realized that she was in another village, completely strange and unfamiliar. But she ran nevertheless, desperate. Anywhere, anywhere, just not back there.
She saw a police station. Her face twitched, and she flew past the streets, reaching the door where she could be saved.
“Please, please help me. I have been kidnapped, and I would like to file a complaint.” Her voice was trembling, eyes desperately seeking protection.
The officers glanced back and forth at each other. Finally, one stepped in.
“Ma’am, these are private matters, and we don’t have the competency to interfere.”
“B-but what competency? What do you mean, competency? I have been kidnapped! I am lost! In another village! I am not even eighteen yet, and at the end of the day, I am just… just someone else’s daughter! You must help me, help me get out of here!” Aidina finally broke down.
“I am very sorry, but we don’t handle such matters. End of discussion.” The elder officer responded.
“I would suggest you just go back.” Another younger one added. “They’ll take you in. If you leave you will dishonor your family, and it’s not so nice.” He said with an easy attitude, chewing on a piece of borsok.
The entire world shattered before Aidina’s eyes. Suddenly, she felt a staggering pain in her back, and her eyes blacked out. The floor was red, red of her blood, and the world was full of pain, darkness, and desperation. Aidina gasped for air, and she fell to the ground.
The pain was unbearable. The air was saturated. The tears streamed all over her face. She could not breathe, she could not move.
“Mom,” she whispered with her last strength.
Where is my mom? Aidina wondered.
She was at home. Probably waiting.
Little she knew that her mother wasn’t. The elderly woman, the kidnapper’s mother, had already called the family.
“Your daughter is with us. With my son.”
That’s all she had to say for the family to accept their daughter’s fate. Aidina was at another man’s home. She is not clean anymore. She must marry him, or no one else will. They believed, she will stay. If she doesn’t, and comes back somehow, they will send Aidina back. Back to the kidnapper’s house.
Except she wouldn’t. Aidina will never be back.
Has it always been this way? She wondered at the last seconds of her life. Perhaps it was. It was tradition, after all.
[[Afternotes | afternotes]]
In 2018, medical student Burulai Turdaaly Kyzy was brutally murdered by her kidnapper, Bektur Sudin uulu, inside a police station. After taking her life, he carved his and her initials into her body. Public outrage erupted, protests filled the streets—but nothing changed. Three years later, in 2021, history repeated itself. Aizada Kanatbekova, 27 years old, was found dead in an abandoned car, another victim of a rejected bride-kidnapper.
How many more lives must be lost before we say enough? We must refuse to let this violence be ignored. We must refuse to let fear silence us. We must raise our voices, demand justice, and fight for a world where every girl is free, respected, and safe. Join us. Stand with us. Because if we don’t fight now, who will?
If you are facing a similar situation, whether you are being forced to marry, or you know someone is, please reach out to the following hotlines, whichever is closest to you. They will provide as much support as possible. Remember, you are not alone, and together, we can win this fight for our rights, our lives, and a better future for all.
Crisis Center "Shans"
Director: Tkacheva Elena Alexandrovna
Address: Bishkek, Chuy Ave., 207, apt. 509
Phone: (709) 710320
Email: eltkacheva@gmail.com
Crisis Center "Sezim"
Director: Ryskulova Byubosara Rakhmatovna
Address: Bishkek, Tabysalieva St., 3
Phone: (312) 51 26 40, (772) 328960
Email: sezim2008@gmail.com
LLC "Ensan – Diamond"
Director: Kaparova Dzhamilya Murazevna
Address: Osh, Lenina St., 205/105
Phone: (3222) 2 2965
Email: kaparovaj@gmail.com
Crisis Center "Akylkaracha" under NGO "Ene Nazary"
Director: Abdildaeva Otkomkan
Address: Osh Region, Alay District, Gulcha Village, Naberezhnaya St., 1
Phone: (555) 28 14 23
Email: ene-naz@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Aruular"
Director: Eshtaeva Nargiza Zholubekova
Address: Osh, Lenina St., 205
Phone: (776) 380777, (3222) 5 56 08
Email: ayalzat97@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Ak Zhuurok"
Director: Asylbekova Dariykan
Address: Osh, Lenina St., 205
Phone: (550) 23 13 29, (3222) 4 59 76
Email: kjurok01@gmail.com
LLC Crisis Center "Meerban"
Director: Boripeeva Gulpana
Address: Osh, Lenina St., 312/23
Phone: (773) 84 34 61, (700) 257890
Email: bga6661@mail.ru
NGO Crisis Center "Tendesh"
Director: Sayakbaeva Sveta
Address: Naryn, Kyrgyzstan St., 31/3
Phone: (3522) 5 02 70, 295047
Email: ngo-tendesh@rambler.ru
Crisis Center "Maana" under OFCSHK "Ayalzat"
Director: Turumkanova Zarina Anarbekovna
Address: Talas, Tagaybaeva St., 274/2
Phone: (557) 48 47 13, (3422) 5 58 85
Email: ayalzat@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Zhany Myrza" under OF "Omur Bugary"
Director: Mambetova Toktokan Bekievna
Address: Batken, Sydykova St., 3
Phone: (777) 39 07 30
Email: Kalybek2003@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Kanzhet"
Director: Nurakova Mimoza
Address: Jalal-Abad, B. Osmonova St., 113
Phone: (3722) 5 50 84
Email: mnurakova@mail.ru
LLC "Ayalzat – Women's Initiative Development"
Director: Asanbaeva Darika
Address: Karakol, Abdrahmanova St., 105-14
Phone: (03922) 51091, (553) 835717
Email: ayalzatdarika@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Altynai"
Director: Dyikanbekova Zhyrgal
Address: Cholpon-Ata
Phone: (709) 694550
Email: altynai9151@mail.ru
Crisis Center "Meerman"
Director: Emil Kyzy Mayram
Address: Karakol
Phone: (706) 383637
Email: mairamiskylu@mail.ru
Women's Help & Rehabilitation Center "Khimiya"
Director: Lichano Maria Zhenishbekovna
Address: Karakol
Phone: (551) 733 390
Email: ulukmandaryser@gmail.comEveryday, every week, every month. This dreadful routine has been repeated for the last 14 months, starting from the day of her marriage. Ironically, the marriage was also undesired, forced upon her, against her will, and once succumbed, passed on unceremoniously, formally, and clearly, for utilitarian purposes only. Aidina remembered the day she first met this family. After fighting for her life, she was driven to the house in a dark, old, car. She doesn’t remember the faces of her kidnappers, but a sentence has stuck in her mind ever since then. She was digging her nails into them, crying and arguing for them to release her. Aidina was yelling something about human rights, about the recent passing of the law in 2013, and about how she would sue them and so on. But the reply she heard was so influential on her that it brought about an internal crisis, a dread for the existence of her life and the world, all the people around. “Shut up, you woman.” it said. It almost seemed like she just gained consciousness of the world and her role in it. Every treatment, every word, all the things that have happened and are happening to her were wrapped in this honest, brutal, and barbaric phrase. “Shut up, you woman”, it rang again in her mind. A woman. A girl. A second-class citizen. A slave. A kelin. An object used and existing only for utilitarian purposes, to reproduce, to work, and ultimately to serve and please men. That was the reality in Kyrgyzstan.
“Ey, Aidina, what are you staring at?” Her husband said to her, coming from outside. He probably noticed her inactiveness, which was apparently wrong, as there were guests in the house.
[[Say nothing and start serving. | tGiveIn]]
[[Speak out and try to change. | tResist]]“Nothing,” she replied, hurrying past the corridor to the living room. She had to serve regardless of what she liked or not. She was the kelin, anyway.
[[Epilogue | tEpilogue]]Something clicked inside of her. Aidina was experiencing full rage, and hearing the “ey” from her foolish, privileged, and rude husband, she decided she could bear it no longer.
“Don’t you call me that. I have a name, I am a person, absolutely worthy of your respect and proper addressing. Secondly, what I am thinking is none of your business, and I have the right to have my own time. Now don’t tell me you want to even take that away from me, after everything you did.” She said with a cold, bitter, yet firm voice.
“Take what away from you? And why are you suddenly acting so weirdly?” Almaz replied with confusion.
“You, it was you who took my youth, you forced me to marry you, stay here at your home, serve you and your family, the neighbors, your guests, anyone, anyone who enters the door I must serve! I am not your slave, Almazbek. I am not just a wife. I never wanted to be. Not yours. I am a woman, a person, a human being, worthy of respect, of basic human rights, such as the right to live freely, marry freely, and not to serve tea and bear humiliation from random men that you call your guests, every single bloody day!” This time her voice was trembling, reflecting the boiling temperature of her blood in this current state.
“Now don’t you bring that up. We’ve talked about this. I am your husband now, whether you like it or not. You must accept that. Why are you being so dramatic? Everyone marries this way. It is the Kyrgyz way, our tradition.”
“No, this tradition is wrong. It was never a tradition; you make it sound like one because it’s advantageous for you, but it was never fit to be called tradition. And even if it was, even if everybody in the bloody country married that way, it is wrong, it is illegal, and should be condemned and banned forever.”
“Aidina,” he raised his voice, “stop acting dramatic. Go serve tea to the guests. Or else,” he stared at her with an intimidating look, “I will get out of control.”
[[Say nothing and start serving. | tGiveIn]]
[[Speak out and try to change. | tResist2]]Eighteen years passed by, and Aidina was already a mother of three. One Friday morning as her eldest daughter was returning from school, she heard the news.
Her daughter was kidnapped. To be a wife.
She fought with the relatives, while her daughter grappled with the in-laws.
She yelled at her husband, crying for her daughter’s return, while the young girl’s throat dried up from the battle.
She argued, yelled, for days and nights, but they just wouldn’t listen.
She was a just woman, anyway.
So was her daughter.
And so the cycle continued.
The End.
“Control? What did you ever experience to get out of control? I should be the one who is getting out of control! And if you need to serve the tea, go serve it yourself.” She said, unafraid, unbothered by anything, this time.
“Aidina!” He yelled, approaching her aggressively, intimidatingly, and with full rage.
She would be lying if she said she was not scared.
[[Say nothing and start serving. | tGiveIn]]
[[Speak out and try to change. | tResist3]]Yet she looked at him with stern yet calm eyes. Some driving force was pushing her guts, and Aidina spoke with power.
“If you dare to touch me, I will sue you.”
She was dragged to the other room.
Door closed.
Hand raised.
Crime committed.
Will there be punishment?
[[Episode 3 | tEpisode3]]Aidina reached for her phone, trembling. She dialed the local police, which is her last hope. At this point, the girl already accepted that her family would not care for her, regardless of her personal safety or well-being. She was forsaken.
“Hello?”
“Please help me, I was kidnapped and beaten, I feel weak…”
Upon hearing the second part of the phrase, the officer immediately changed their tone.
“...Oh. Sorry, these are internal matters and we don’t intervene. Try dealing with your husband.”
“What? No, please-”
The call ended.
So did her life. Aidina was alone. She had no support. No one cared.
What did she ever do to deserve this? What evil, wickedness has she done to experience this?
A single drop of tear, the first one in 12 months, streamed down her left cheek. It dropped to the ground, which was cold, unfeeling, and dead, like her soul.
What was she to do now?
[[Say nothing and start serving. | tGiveIn]]
[[Speak out and try to change. | tResist4]]I ought to do something. Aidina thought. A life without him, without his family, and without all of this mess they brought her. A life of her own.
A life of her own.
This idea shocked her slightly. It reminded of her early days, at school, still pursuing truth and beauty. And I wanted to go to university, she thought bitterly. On second thought, why not? Finding a job would help her achieve independence shortly, while higher education is a long term pursuit.
What would you do?
[[Find a job. | tJob]]
[[Pursue higher education. | tEducation!]]She decided it was best for her to start working. At the end of the day, Aigerim needed money to survive.
She looked up jobs on the internet. They required a university degree.
Aigerim doesn’t have one. Suddenly, her eyes notice an ad: “Looking for an office assistant. No experience required. Basic computer skills needed.” Hope flickers inside her. She doesn’t know much about computers, but maybe she can learn before the interview.
So she did. In the morning, she was the same old Aigerim, serving tea and staying silent. At night, she was learning computer skills on the internet using her husband’s computer.
After a week, she looked up the job again. It was still there. She wrote to the HR, who promised an interview tomorrow morning.
Aigerim told everyone in the house she was going to the market to get groceries.
Instead, she went to the interview.
It was successful. They hired her.
Aigerim was free.
[[Epilogue | tEpilogue2.1]]Attending university was her dream. It became one, after her unwanted marriage.
But it doesn’t have to be, Aigerim thought.
She looks up scholarship opportunities as she could never afford the tuition, at least not now.
A post caught her eye. “Scholarships: Fully Funded. Please see our official website for more information”. This was truly incredible. Aidina fulfilled all of their requirements. Excellent grades, high test scores, and a motivated soul. She applied to the programs, and for the first time in such a long time, she had hope.
Aigerim waited for months until the decisions came out. It was dreadful. Not only was there waiting, but also constant humiliation and pain. In the morning, it was all the same, kelinism, sexism, hierarchical humiliation, and endless torture. Chores, mockery, and no worth. She knew clearly she had no worth, and no one would care of her academic, intellectual excellence in this home. Not in this home, not in another. Kyrgyzstan was not such a place to be praised for intellectual superiority. At least not for girls. Aigerim thought matter-of-factly.
Until she got in. The scholarships flooded her email inbox on the day of decision, and she was in tears. Beaming. Crying. Sobbing. All of this, all of this, all of this was finally ending!
Aigerim packed her things – nothing but a bag of her clothes and a few personal items. She left at night without looking at her back. She was finally free.
And university, no longer a dream.
[[Epilogue | tEpilogue2.2]]Sitting at her desk in the office, Aigerim was deep in thoughts. The life that she has now, is completely different now. She still brings tea to the table. But it no longer feels the same. They respect her, they pay her, and she achieved complete independence. If she doesn't like something, Aigerim can leave and find another job. She gained work experience, meaningful friendships, and a hope for life. A hope that life is good, and will get better, as long as she works, loves, and fights for what is worthy.
The End.With a book on her desk and her scribbled notes, Aigerim stopped for a second. For some peculiar reason, she suddenly remembered her days back in the house. Her brows frowned slightly, then her eyes caught her own reflection on the computer’s screen. Look at her now. Medical student, summa cum laude, and a passionate specialist. She was no longer bound by him, no longer bound by his family, tradition, society, and even serving tea. Because her job now is to save people, save the young, save the old, heal the suffering, and help the needy. She learned to diagnose, she learned to heal, and she learned that you could do anything, as long as you fought for it.
The End.(text-colour:blue)[Episode 1.
]
The family has been very busy recently. Her brother was marrying a new bride, who seemed very resistant. This made her mother endure headaches all days, and Nargul was failing to understand her new sister-in-law. After all, isn't it a good thing to be married? Especially to someone like her brother? Shouldn't she be grateful?
That's what everyone has been saying, anyway. She was very curious of her new sister-in-law. For she was very beautiful, yes, and very gentle as well. But most controversially, she was fierce and unwilling to comply, opposite to her delicate features and soft attitude. Perhaps she was just like the new horse in our home? Young, untrained?
Nargul's curiosity, once ignited, could not be diminished. She peeked intentively behind the door, seeing how once more, the women of her house were persuading her to stay.
After contemplating, she decided to step in.
[[Episode 2. | NargulEpisode 2]]The voices were murmuring, the bride was in tears, and Nargul's mother was holding her left temple, cursing the young girl. It seems that persuasion never worked for this figure.
“No, I will study. I have dreams. Aspirations. I will be a lawyer–”, insisted the bride.
"Shouldn't family be first on your list?", asked Nargul. It was a genuine question, for that's what she has been taught.
"I never wanted a family. Not this young, not with him. I am different. I don't belong here with you. Please, just let me go. I was supposed to be studying and working and I -"
A sneer interrupted the girl.
“Dreams? You belong here. As a wife. A mother. A kelin.” Aunt Aisha said assertively. “Besides, this is how things are done. Everyone gets married this way. It is our tradition.”
The other women agreed. “We all got married this way.”
“This is just how things are done.” They repeated.
For some peculiar reason, Nargul felt it was very, very right, and very, very wrong at the same time. Right because that's right, doesn't everyone get married? What else am I supposed to do anyway?
But wrong because...
She couldn't find an answer to the latter feeling. She looked at the bride attentatively, searching for the answer. But all she did was sit back, in tears, as if giving up. Maybe she was giving up.
What was she supposed to do? Was her mother right, or wrong?
[[Right | Right]]
[[Wrong | Wrong]]Nargul never saw the bride again.
Good for her, she thought.
Nargul didn't know this was good for her, too.
But she knew she could make a change. Because, that was the right thing to do.
She was hopeful.
She will be powerful.
A voice, a sound, a syllable was forming on Nargul's lips. She was breaking her fingers, with conflicting emotions. But the pressure was too much. She decided to keep silent.
“No this is wrong! I never wanted to get married, not this young! I don’t even know him, why would I just stay here with all of you? This entire tradition, this hell of a tradition, is wrong! How many fates are you destroying? How many lives? I have my own life, and it’s not with you, not with him!” The bride argued assertively.
“Shhhh. And that’s where you’re wrong.” Said her mother . “If you get out of here, unmarried, little girl…”
“You will dishonor your family.” Aunt Aisha finished the sentence. “No one wants a used woman. Which you will be, after staying at another man’s house.”
Nargul was conflicted, once more. Hearing the bride's depsperate but firm voice, she was shake. But her family was also right. Weren't they?
“He had been looking at you for weeks. Almaz noticed you long before, when you would come out of school.” Aunt Gulnara said.
“Exactly, I am still at school! You cannot marry a seventeen year old!” The bride protested.
//Seventeen?// //Almost my age//, though Nargul. I can't imagine getting married next year, already....
“Except, you can. Cousin Almaz is “friends” with the man who works at the civil registry, and you could get married in no time. Cousin Elgiza said calmly.
That was true. But Nargul always thought corruption was wrong. It was unfair, and she couldn't imagine what would happen if someone else used their power to outweigh in unfair situations.
“No, someone has to bring justice in. I will sue you,” The bride's voice was trembling. The young girl continued, “This is illegal, your son will be in jail, and I will leave.”
The severity of the situation suddenly hit Nargul. Her brother... a criminal? So this was really wrong. And really serious. She looked at the young girl, who was in tears, depserate, shaking, but still somehow resistant.
Pity built up in her heart. But the anger for injustice was even more heavy, filling up her chest. She knew who was right.
Looking up to her mother, Nargul tried to speak up. But she saw a horrible change in her face. Her mother's face darkened, and the tone was immediately changed.
“Shut up, you silly woman. You should be ashamed, and you will be, if you leave here. As I said before, you will be a dirty, used girl, bringing shame and dishonor to your family. It’s best if you marry my son, who is a worthy young man.”
Her mother's words made less and less sense. This seemed... absurd. Her brother was a great man, but the way of marrying her was wrong.
The answer was clear, but what should she do? Stand up against her own family?
[[Speak up | Wrong]]
[[Stay silent |Stay silent]]A voice, a sound, a syllable was forming on Nargul's lips. Finally, after breaking her fingers, it cracked through her throat.
"No."
Nargul and the young girl said synchronously.
The latter's voice was weak but firm, while Nargul's was loud, strong, but questioning still.
It ended with a slight pitch, as if asking the question, not negating it.
Everyone looked at her. Even the bride was shocked.
"I, I don't think that she should be a wife. I think, if she really doesn't like my brother, she can choose to not marry him. I mean, it's not even about my brother at this point, it's about her life. She chose to be a lawyer, and I think that's admiring. Who said women should always be wives and mothers anyway?"
The mother's pupils dilated. Her own daughter was against her. Not only against her, but against everyone. The relatives heard her. This would bring shame.
"Go back to your room. Immediately. Go make dinner. Don't you have anything else to do?" She reprimanded firmly.
But Nargul didn't stop.
"See? You are telling me to make dinner. I have always been making dinner, since the day I could hold a knife. But you never told Almaz to cook. He never does anything. And I am not being resentful here, but why? Why is it that girls have to cook, clean, babysit, and men just sit back, laugh, and eat? At the end, the one that the host thanks is not you, but my father. Doesn't this seem... unfair?"
It was horrifying. It would bring shame to the family. Everyone heard it.
But it was true.
"That's what girls endure. End of discussion." Said her mother, with her last dignity.
"No. That's the point!" Joined the young bride. Now she was firm. Hopeful. And speaking. "Your reaction to injustice is 'That's what girls do. End of discussion'. But it doesn't have to be that way! Even your daughter can be whoever that she wants to be, scientist, doctor, lawyer, politician, entrepreneur... Name it and she can. She has so much potential-- every one of us had. And still do. We just have to make that happen."
The mother was deep in thoughts. She remembered how once, her Nargul told her she wanted to be a scientist. She dismissed her immediately, but now that she actually thought of it...
It was a mistake. To deny her of her future. She doesn't want Nargul to be like her. Remembering her days, serving, working like a dog, and like she said, not even thanks. They thank her husband. And that's the best scenario, if they didn't critize her.
Remorse filled her guts. But, what was she supposed to do now? Everything was already done. This girl spent days in their homes.
"Your reputation would be damaged if you leave the house now." Said the mother. But this time not persuadingly, but with concern.
"It doesn't matter. If more girls left the house after days, people would realize it's normal. I can be the first one to make that step." Said the bride.
So she did.
[[Epilogue | NargulEpilogue]]“I don’t care about any of your outdated, harmful, toxic traditions! I will leave here, pursue higher education, and fight for the rights of other women!” The bride cried with a trembling voice.
“Except you can’t. And that’s final.” Said her mother bitterly. Angrily, she left the room, accidentally pushing the cup down the table as she passed by.
The cup shattered.
It was her grandmother's. Beautiful, delicate, yet shattered.
This horrified Nargul. Everything that she witnessed today was tramuatizing. Everything that she had learned before turned out be wrong. Justice was not served.
They are breaking her life. Breaking the bride's life. Just like the cup.
The bride was in innocent, beautiful, yet broken.
What was she to do?
Nargul started breathing unevenly. Her brows frowned like the dark, cloudy sky outside, thunder reflected her fear, and it was too much.
What was she to do?
[[Speak up | Wrong]]
[[Stay silent | Nargul Epilogue2]]She finally married her brother. He was happy, smiling and thanking everyone in the wedding. The bride was desperate and hopeless.
During the wedding, Nargul served the table. She cooked. Cleaned.
Exhausted, she finally sat at the table to eat whatever was left.
''And in the end, they thanked her brother.
''