I knew nothing of it, but my family did. I placed my trust in God, sketched the ship’s image in my mind’s eye, fastened the ropes in good faith, and set forth upon the path of my destiny.
The marriage contract was signed, and I stood upon the shore like a sailor preparing to board his vessel. At first glance, the ship appeared moored and serene, yet a hidden intuition warned me that it was sinking in deep, agonizingly slow silence. I chased away the dark forebodings, telling myself: ‘An anchored ship is far better than one tossed by tempestuous waves.’
Days later, the truth became undeniably clear; the ship bore a small leak. Yet my mind, awash in a tide of hope, belittled the danger and whispered to me a second time: ‘Do not worry, Moussa. Arm yourself with patience and endure… You will reach the shore, and there you shall devote yourself to mending that tiny breach.’
The days passed between bitter forbearance and perilous whispers, until the day of my wedding arrived aboard that very ship. In the blink of an eye, the tiny leak expanded into a gaping rift, and the vessel began dragging me down into the abyss.
My family stood gathered, their eyes fixed on me as I sank. I was drowning alone… and in the grip of that ruin, the agonies of my patience and the bitter sting of turning a blind eye to that leak came rushing back.
I am drowning… and everyone is watching me.
I am drowning alone…
But from the dark heart of this sea, I shall survive. I will survive because I am not the ship; I am its captain who will carve a path to salvation. I will survive despite the hardships, for this is my destiny, and my destiny is to endure with patience until God ordains my deliverance.
