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Graduation visit

Vahida Berberovic

    ‘You don’t understand,’ said one uncle, ‘how dangerous it is for a girl to go to the big city.’
    What?
    I was half-way down the stairs, craving cake and a study break. My two uncles, my mother’s brothers, had come to pay my parents a visit, as custom prescribed when a child graduated from high school. My graduation was particularly joyous as I’d graduated with straight As and was busy preparing for the entrance exam at Uni.
    ‘Surely, you don’t want her to come back with a bastard child?’ said the other uncle.
    It was the end of June; the smell of linden trees filled the air. All doors were kept open to allow for a draft to cool us down. The heady linden scent intermingled with the cigarette smoke billowing out of the living room. I don’t know if it was the nicotine smell or the sentence I heard that made me sick. I sat down on the bottom step. I realised my uncles had not come to pay their respects, share my parents’ pride, but to convince them to stop me from going to Uni.
    ‘She’s only 18,’ continued the first uncle. ‘The temptations are too great.’
    They continued in this manner for who knows how long. My otherwise loud and feisty mother did not say a word to contradict her brothers.
    I was in complete shock. I could not fathom that there was a possibility of me not going to Uni. The only reason I could think of was not passing the entrance exam.
    Eventually it was quiet. Only the clinking of cups. I stood up from the bottom stair. I wanted to run into the living room and scream at all of them but hesitated. What would I say?
    ‘If my daughter passes the entrance exam,’ my usually quiet father finally boomed, ‘she will go to University.’ He said this in his matter-of-fact tone. A tone known for its finality.
    I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

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