AMIRAH AL WASSIF - NANA

Amirah Al Wassif is a freelance writer, poet, and novelist. Five of my books were written in Arabic and many of my English works have been published various cultural magazines in many international literary and cultural magazines around the globe such as cultural magazines such as praxis Magazine , the gathering of tribes, credo Spoir, reach poetry, Otherwise Engaged literature and arts journal, cannon's mouth, Mediterranean poetry, The BeZine ,spill words,Merak Magazine, poetry magazine, writers Resist, the Bosphorus Review Of Books, the Writer NewSletter, Call and Response Journal, Echoes Literary Magazine, Better Than Starbucks,Envision Arts, women of strength strong courage magazine, chorion review , the conclusion magazine, street light press. She has 2 published books in English, collection poetry " for those who don't know chocolate" and a children book " the cocoa boy and other stories". Her English literary creative works have been translated into Spanish, Arabic, Hindi, and Kurdish 
 

NANA

Nana used to roll the wet body of her baby in a shabby towel. if you asked her "why?" she will answer you automatically like a robot " God made me a mother! ", and if you ask her " who is a god?!". she will answer you, " my husband."
 A year ago Nana was playing happily in the clay. she was stealing some clay and throw her friends with it and they return her favor back without hesitation as a daily habit of childhood age.
She was still a child until Ismael came. at that damn moment when he looked at her as if he would eat her innocent face with his red eyes.


Nana shuddered, uncomfortable feeling knocked her heart's door and unfortunately, her poor heart opened.
his father stopped close to her and whispered in Nana's ears " show some respect to your husband"
Nana smiled, she is a child and doesn't know what is the exact meaning of "your husband?"
All she did is smiling because she used to smile to everyone, to every stranger.
Ismael took the child and ran away. Nana parents waved with indifference.
 Nana tried her best as a child to leave Ismael hand, but how she would flee away from her man/from her destiny?
She asked in a crying tone " where we are going?"



He didn't answer her question. he never ever did.
 As every tragedy story, she screamed until her voice disappeared. nothing prevents Ismael from his plan or (the plan of God) the only answer that he told Nana in the creepy tone of a man " you are mine, and I am your God."

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