Shopping for Africa 2002

“Zainab,” Mohamed yelled as he poked his head out of the bathroom.

“Aiwa. Hanini shway.” Zainab quickly stopped washing the dishes and ran towards him. “Shinhoo?”

“I get my ticket, inshallah.”

“Mabrook. Inshallah.”

“I need gift for family. I need good impression so ummi, inshallah is okay we marry now.”

“Inshallah. What were you thinking about?”

“I need gift my parent, my sister, my brother, my daughter and children. I get one Mauritanian woman come for woman and child, inshallah. I understand what I do for man.”

“I’m sure that I can buy for the women and children. I am a woman.”

“You American. You no understand Mauritania.”

Mohamed gave her a dismissive attitude so she just said okay and went back to the dishes. When he was eating his cereal, she asked him casually what he was thinking about for everyone. He rattled off lists and people. She gave him a kiss and said Ma’salam as he headed out.

Zainab had seen that a local store had a massive sale on makeup and such. She found the ad and verified the dates before getting ready and heading out.

Zainab rushed to the cosmetics section. As a ghostly pale White girl, her choices were limited. Mauritanians have varying, beautiful shades of every color and it thrilled her.

The sale was for mainstream cosmetics so her choices were more limited but much richer and more vibrant than anything she could wear without looking like a victim of some tragedy.

After the initial excitement stage, she did the math and started grabbing. She went to the counter with a basket full. It wasn’t the usual sight on an early Sunday morning but life. Zainab and the cashier chatted as they saw the total add up and then subtract the discount. “That’s incredible,” was their mutual reply at the end.

Zainab was flush with the excitement from her win and headed to the toy store. She had wanted a daughter since she was a little girl herself. In Mauritanian culture she could never see or know her stepdaughter. It crushed her.

She wanted to show her the love from America. That even though her daddy was far away, she was still incredibly loved by the country that took him from her. She hoped that it might help everyone feel a bit better and closer, at least in spirit.

Zainab started with the Barbie dolls. It was her favorite when she was young. She filled a shopping cart full of the most important part, the clothes and accessories. She wondered how she would store everything when she remembered having a closet as a little girl. It took her a few minutes to find something similar and tried to judge how much she could stuff inside it.

When she had satisfied her girlish love for Barbie’s, she went aisle by aisle finding non electric and non English language toys. The frisbees were a natural choice. She couldn’t quite figure out how to get hula hoops on the plane so decided against them. The bubbles would ooze everywhere and the solution was simple so she opted for wands instead. She would give Mohamed the recipe and instructions later.

The RC cars looked like such fun but passed because of the batteries and electricity required. Trying to get adapters was not worth it. The Matchbox cars were a great choice with a carrier for compact travel. The bigger dump trucks were great for smaller hands or playing outside in the desert sands.

She tried to keep most of her selections small in size for travel purposes. Once she felt as if she had exhausted the store, she headed for home with a carload full. She hauled everything upstairs and got to work.

She sorted everything into piles. She decided to work on the Barbies first. Numerous bags of items were removed from their packaging and placed in the wardrobe. One of the dolls was even able to fit neatly inside. The garbage that was shoved in the corner was neatly bagged and taken out before working on the cars.

She did the same thing with the cars as she had done with the dolls. She went to work on the rest of the toys while packing a suitcase. She was in the midst of loading up a second suitcase when Mohamed came home from work.

“What is this?”

“I went shopping. Come look.”

“Oh. Habibti, you don’t have to do this. It is so much.”

“It’s okay. You want to make a good impression. See if you like it.”

“One minute. I take of my clothes.”

Mohamed quickly changed. Zainab set a glass of milk down beside his seat and moved everything around so that he could get the best possible presentation of the purchases before he arrived. When he sat down and she was assured of his comfort, she began her presentation with the more minor toys.

“These are frisbees. You toss them back and forth, like this.” Zainab made a flinging motion as if tossing the frisbee. A light toss got Mohamed’s attention. “I got both pink and blue. You know. Pink for a girl and blue for a boy.”

“What you mean? This okay. Color no for boy or girl. Pink toy is fine for boy. Is same.”

Zainab sat in momentary silence for his astute observation for the entirely wrong reason. Mohamed was a sexist pig but the concept of pink for girls was a foreign one. She secretly wondered if they had a son, would he let him play with pink toys in America? It was worth a shot.

She agreed before moving on to the small cars which delighted Mohamed’s inner child. She showed him how to play with them and make them go. He looked at each car and gave his opinion of it. The sports cars were his favorite. Zainab liked the moving doors but she was unique.

Once Mohamed had played with the cars sufficiently enough, she presented the Barbies with heartfelt stories and explanations about the Barbie experience. She had the same look of awe, wonder and excitement that held Mohamed’s interest with the cars.

“Well, what do you think? I know that some feel as if Muslims shouldn’t have dolls but I want to know your opinion. I am not the parent.”

“It is fine. Girls have dolls my country.”

“Okay. Good. I just have the machiage.”

“You get machiage too. I tell you I get woman for this.”

“Just look. You can take it to her and ask her if this is what they like.”

Zainab pulled out all sorts of makeup, explaining each type as she went. Eyeshadow, blush, lipstick, lipliner, eyeliner, mascara, foundation. The girl had it all. She showed the array of colors for each product while explaining who it would look good on.

Mohamed looked at everything and gave his immediate verdict, “Is good. Yeah. You do good. Shukran, habibti.”

“Afwan. Ahaybuk.”

The two embraced before packing everything away. Mohamed still had more to buy. He decided that Zainab knew a few things. The pair went to the malls and bought watches, jewelry, cologne, perfume, wallets and purses. Zainab kept filling the suitcases until the day before his flight.

Zainab lovingly blessed the suitcases of gifts. She pinned her future and her hopes of a loving family on the gifts contained inside. Inshallah they would accept her and love her as their own daughter.

Surely they would see her love, care and dedication to them as well as their son contained within. A good, strong American woman who would undoubtedly become a good, strong African woman as well. Inshallah.

Until next time.

Ma’salam.

Min sadiqatuk, Drsy.

From your friend, Darcy.