The Story of My Mother

December 22, 2013
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Today i will tell you a story. it's not mine. but it is a story worth to be told because it is my mother's. i have never told this to anyone before because i was afraid no one would understand

my mother is named jamila which means in arabic beautiful, she was born in a small town in morocco in a 5 children family. since she was young she has never been treated as her brothers and sister. my grand mother who got married at the age of 14 was tamed ( yes it's a hard word but it is the truth) by my grand father. today he is dead but back in time he was strict mean and rough. my grand mother was always scared and terrified from him. So she tried hard as she could to avoid problems by lying and hiding facts. she had 3 boys and 2 girls my mother is the third child after 2 boys. when she was a kid my grand parents never bought her clothes she used to wear my uncles outfits and shoes. they never bought her a doll, a toy or a dress. i don't want people to think that she was born in a poor family. that's not true at all. my grand father was educated which was a vary rare thing in his time. his education provided him a good job that helped him to raise a fortune. a fortune he was too mean to use. All he did during his life was making money and saving it so when it was shopping time he would always skip my mum and buy clothes for his other kids.

During holidays when everyone was asleep early in the morning my grand mother used to wake my mum and force her to go buy bread in the foggy and cold morning while the others and especially her 2 older brothers where sleeping. my mum told me that once when they were all young playing in the back yard my mum hit her brother who went to complain to my grand ma, this one came in tied up my mum and told my uncle to hit her back. he punched her on the face. my mother cried to tears of her soul that day, and so i'm doing now telling these horrible memories. when it was lunch or dinner time everyone got its peace of meat except my mum who would get only the leftovers. years after she would be the only one who would never gets gifts for her graduation or even her marriage. when my mum got married to my dad she came here to algeria where she gave birth to my sister and i. when i was born 20 years ago no one in her family cared to come take care of her or even call her. every summer vacation we spent there was hell to us. my grand father used to scream and yell at everyone to make us feel uncomfortable. thank god my father managed to make us live happily. he made his own business bought us houses and cars. today my mother is richer than any of her brothers and sister. still even after my grand father died 40 days ago. things haven't really changed. my grandma didn't bother calling mum to look after her she became forgotten.

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