It was a Friday, and everyone was heading to the mosque. The town was bright and lively, with everyone focused on their own affairs. Tafe was singing her song, carrying a pot on her head as she went to fetch water from the stream since it was their town's market day. She had dressed up nicely to go to the market. Sameera, known as Yar Baiwa, was with her, walking calmly until she suddenly stopped, startled. "What's happening? Why are you scared?" she asked, laughing. "Oh my God, who called you like that?" she teased, pretending to be frightened like a hyena. Sameera smiled and said, "Alright, let's just go. I’ll walk you home, but don’t be afraid."  

Sameera reassured her, "I’ll quickly buy what I need and come back." Tafe replied, "It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Hurry up so we can meet at the market or help each other." They exchanged greetings and went their separate ways.  

Sameera headed straight home, dropped her pot, and washed up. Her mother, Umma, noticed she was exhausted. "You must be tired from fetching water. The stream is far, and you’ve been walking a lot. Rest, take a bath, and then you can go to the mosque. After that, go to the market and buy what we need." Sameera agreed and went to her room to get ready. She came out wearing a red wrapper, applying oil and lotion.  

As she dressed, her mother watched in admiration. "Oh, look at you! So beautiful, glowing like the sun." Sameera laughed shyly as she applied red lipstick, looking stunning. She packed some clothes, choosing only what she needed. In her mother’s eyes, Sameera was perfect just the way she was.  

Sameera was a twelve-year-old girl with a chocolate-brown complexion, full lips, small white teeth, and captivating eyes—sleepy, sexy eyes, as they called them. She had a slim, well-proportioned figure, and everyone admired her. She was sharp-minded, which was why she was called Yar Baiwa (the clever girl). She never forgot anything she was told. Her parents were patient and proud of her intelligence.  

Sameera’s parents were humble people, and she was their only child. She attended school in the city, and it was clear she was destined for greatness. She loved learning and held onto every piece of knowledge she gained. Once something entered her mind, it stayed there forever.  

Umma called out, "I’m leaving now. Make sure you come back early. I’m going to the city." Sameera replied, "Alright, God willing. Buy me some spices and sugar, please." Her mother agreed and left, walking slowly without any worries until she reached the market. She bought what she needed and met up with her friends—six of them, all known as Yar Baiwa in their town.  

As they chatted, one of them teased, "Why are you so quiet? Where are you going?" Sameera didn’t respond, just played with her fingers until one of the women grabbed her hand and joked, "What kind of girl is this? You’re always so reserved! Everywhere you go, you’re so quiet, like a witch!"  

The women laughed, and one said, "Girl, can’t you talk? Or are you just shy?" Sameera remained silent until one of them, Garbati, raised her hand as if to hit her. But Iro intervened, "Stop it! Her parents don’t play around. If her mother finds out, you’ll regret it."  

Garbati scoffed, "What can she do? Just let her be. If she doesn’t learn to speak up, how will she survive in this world?"  

Sameera’s anger grew, but she held it in. She thought, *If I don’t control myself, what will happen? I’ll just have to endure it.*  

They continued walking, chatting and laughing, forgetting about Sameera completely. They had known each other since childhood and lived close by. Sameera had no siblings, and her parents doted on her. Anyone who dared to mistreat her would face their wrath.  

"Assalamu alaikum," Sameera greeted as she returned home from school. Yar Baiwa was already back, sitting quietly. Sameera responded and walked confidently into their large house, though she was wary of her stepmother, Hajiya. She never forgot the day she had scolded her harshly.  

Sameera entered the house quietly, heading straight to Hajiya’s sitting room, where she was with her daughters, Husnah and Yusrah, as well as her youngest son, Kamal. When they saw Sameera, Yusrah teased, "Oh, Yar Baiwa, the queen of reading, is here!"  

Hajiya Kareema, who had been mentioned, stiffened as if she had never laughed before. Sameera greeted her politely, but Hajiya snapped, "Why are you just standing there? Sit down! Don’t you have any respect?"  

Sameera clenched her fists but remained calm. "Hajiya, what did I do wrong?" she asked.  

Hajiya glared. "You’ve been absent for two days! Where have you been?"  

Sameera smiled slightly. "Uncle, please sit. Let’s eat first, then we can discuss it."  

Husnah and Yusrah prepared the food, but Yusrah kept glancing at Sameera, smirking. "Pay attention, especially you, Yusrah! Stop fooling around. It’s the weekend—we should relax, not waste time."  

Hajiya Kareema only had eyes for Sameera, watching her closely. She muttered under her breath, "This girl… she thinks she’s so smart with her English. Who does she think she is? A village girl pretending to be educated? Her father must be so proud…"  

Sameera ignored her, waiting for Uncle Kabeer to arrive. When he did, he began teaching them in the garden. Yusrah and Husnah followed, sitting on chairs as he started the lesson. Yar Baiwa answered questions confidently, even without a textbook. Yusrah struggled, but Husnah managed to keep up.  

When the lesson ended, Sameera thanked Uncle Kabeer and Hajiya, then left for her own home. She hugged her mother, excitedly sharing what she had learned.  

And so, Sameera’s life continued—full of learning and determination—until the weekend ended, and she achieved her goal of gaining knowledge to help her parents.