Mumina woke after a night of tossing and turning to the subax call to prayer. Her feet ached from her wild run in the dark the night before. After praying most mornings she either went back to sleep until it was time for school, or rushed through homework she had delayed. But today, Mumina knelt in place almost an hour after finishing the final prayers. She alternated between pleading to Allah for the courage to obey her parents and resting in silence, soothed by the early morning hours and the closeness she felt with Allah.
Mumina slipped a pair of running shoes into her backpack and pulled on faded pink flip-flops. She didn’t bother wiping the sweat beads from the edge of her masar, the breeze outside the walled stadium would dry her face while she walked home.
Strong, rough hands encircled Mumina’s upper arms and hoisted her over the side of a wooden fishing boat. She smelled urine and body odor and blood and fish. She rubbed salt water out of her eyes and ran one hand over her body, making sure she was covered even though soaked, clinging clothes revealed the shape of her body.
