Azra wanted to give back to her people, innocent people, pawns on the world stage caught between a military dictatorship and an imperialist power struggle.
Her hand reached for the drawer where she kept the Qur’an. She pulled it out and opened it to a page at random where she laid her head, hoping to absorb by osmosis the wisdom that would see her through this paradox. The insurmountable corruption and power play behind mental health disorders that went unrecognized and untreated. Her micronutrient worked but it would never be sanctioned by Big Pharma.
The next call came from Yusef. “Hi, Mom, checking in. I’m on my lunch break now.”
“I always love hearing from you, my darling. What’s going on at school?”
“Some kid got arrested for a bomb threat.”
“A bomb threat?!”
“Nothing real, mom. Not to worry,” he said, in a monotone voice. She would never get used to the casual, complacent way he reported disturbing news even it was benign.