CHAPTER 7. “LATIFA, MY MOTHER PART 3”

“My mum, Latifa Bint Hamdan, when I was growing up, I was always keen on making her happy. I was keen on gifting her with what she loves. Her happiness makes me happy. Her smile makes my day. My conversations with my mum were the most entertaining in life. Then horrible pain. A great void. Feeling like an orphan when you’re old. That’s what I felt when I lost her in May 1983. I lost my sweetheart. I lost my eyesight.

“I still remember the last time I saw her before she travelled for medical treatment to London. I kissed her, hugged her. She looked at me and said: ‘Who is like you?’”

“She was talking about how good-looking I am. She complimented me with my new watch. So I thought of giving it to her once she’s back.

“My mother never made it back. When I was putting her down to her grave, the watch fell beside her. I got tongue tied, from the great importance of that moment. I looked at my mother, and my watch next to her. And a voice within me was saying: ‘Something from me is with her.’ And they closed the grave.”