EPISODE 1 – INSECUREBattling the voices in her head, Rehema must overcome insecurities about body image to forge relationships, despite her unexceptional appearance.
Battling the voices in her head, Rehema must overcome insecurities about body image to forge relationships, despite her unexceptional appearance.
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Am Pretty
IN a montage of childhood memories, Rehema sees herself playing with decorated rag dolls and dressing up like a princess. Her mother’s voice echoes from the shadows, “You are so beautiful.” The historical mental movie reel pauses during adolescence when it seemed everyone, but her blossomed.
Pretty girls got boyfriends who took them to major high school events, while Rehema had dinner with her parents at a nearby restaurant.
Am Insecure
The agony of personally perceived unattractiveness triggers depression. As a young adult, Rehema stands before a mirror each day to enumerate her flaws. Her ankles are too thin; her chest is too flat; her hips aren’t wide enough; her chin is too short, and her hair is unmanageable. Today, she also has acne.
Rehema performs her daily ritual as though she expects to awaken one morning and see herself as the fully developed princess from childhood. After the disappointing examination, Rehema curls up in a ball on the floor of her shower, weeping, as she used to do in the locker room after bullying. When the water runs cold, she dries off, like clockwork, just in time to hear her mother’s voice on the phone contradicting all the negativity.
She gets dressed and eats a bowl of cold cereal while scrolling through non-existing text messages from imaginary friends. Then Rehema steps out into the fearful real world of public transportation, where whisper, every burst of laughter, or expletive feels like it’s directed at her.
Am Incognito
In what conceals her appearance, she wears a masculine uniform with an obligatory smile while hunched behind a desk as a security guard for an office building, with an obligatory smile. An eventful day is reserving an elevator for a tenant receiving furniture. Beyond that, she watches videos on her phone that promote ineffective creams to grow breasts and beautify blemishes. She’s rubbed so many creams into her chest that she believes her breasts are beginning to invert.
When she responds to an attractive man with directory assistance, it never fails that he expresses surprise to hear a woman’s voice. So Elimu’s reaction doesn’t alarm her. What does is his apology.
“I am so sorry if I was offensive. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? What’s your favorite pastry?”
“It is not necessary,” she replies. “I am used to the mistake. You are from Tanzania? Yes?”
“Yes, of course. We have that in common. As a new tenant on the 18th floor, I insist. You aren’t any less of a lady because of your uniform.”
“Okay then. Thank you. I usually drink instant coffee. But I would love to try one of those fancy brewed drinks, with a cinnamon roll, please.”
“Very well. Prepare to have your mind blown tomorrow morning.”
This brightens Rehema’s day and gives her something to look forward to the next morning, although she expects him to forget. In response to overwhelming expressions of gratitude, Elimu turns it into a regular morning treat.
One day, he surprises her again by asking about her lunch plans.
“I usually just eat a sandwich that I bring from home,” she responds while rolling her eyes in intrigue. “Today it is sardines with crackers and an apple.”
“Tomorrow, lunch is my treat. Will you join me?”
“I don’t understand why you’re asking me. Besides, I can’t leave my station.”
“Okay, I’ll bring you a delicatessen Ruben sandwich and we will have lunch at your station, together.”
The attention thrills Rehema, but she is suspicious of Elimu’s motives. Perhaps she’s reading more into his kindness than necessary. He could be thanking her for reserving the elevator during his move. Or could this be an elaborate plan for some type of security breach?
Am Recognized
During lunch, he asks many questions about her aspirations, favorite color, places she’d like to visit, and the one question that yanks her neck hard enough to cause vertigo. “Do you have a suitor?”
After regaining her equilibrium, she asks, “Why is that of any importance?”
Elimu replies, his gaze steady and sincere, “I enjoyed our lunch, but this is not a proper setting. On your day off, I would like to take you to the delicatessen that makes the sandwiches. Then you can pick whatever you desire from the menu while we sit in a booth. We could go someplace else if you prefer.”
“Let me get something straight here. Are you asking the woman you thought was a man out on a date?”
“It is a casual opportunity for you to wear something other than a uniform while we get better acquainted in a neutral environment.”
She excitedly accepts the invitation, and after he steps into the elevator, immediately begins to panic. Her wardrobe consists of straight-leg jeans and men’s shirts. There has never been a need to waste money on anything else. She phones her mother, expressing equal parts terror and jubilation.
Her mother wants to adorn her like a princess, but for lunch in a deli, Rehema settles on a simple sundress, cut low enough to highlight an inexpensive necklace. Her mother impresses upon her the need to arch her back for good posture.
In the days leading up to her first date, she critiques herself in the mirror while wearing her pathetic work uniform, practicing smiles and hand gestures. She wears earring studs, each day loosening an additional neckline button to feminize herself as best she can.
Am Worthy
When the day finally arrives, she perspires so much that she takes three showers, even after exhausting the hot water. Everything must be just right, from the grooming of her body hair to the style of underwear. Then the thought of entertaining him in her apartment afterward leads to frantic cleaning, and another shower before putting on her inaugural dress.
When everything is as perfect as possible in her austere abode, she sits fidgeting on the sofa, with periodic last-minute glances in a full-length mirror. During the wait for his car, unwelcomed voices in Rehema’s head ridicule her. ‘He will probably say you looked better in the uniform, or make an excuse to handle urgent business.’
But he whisks her away to the enchanting destination and the day keeps getting more delightful. He has charm and wit, with apparent enamor of her understated décolletage as the focus of his attention.
When Elimu asks to follow up with dinner, her internal voices escape, with sardonic berating of herself. “Please don’t lead me on. This lunch table has more curves than me. You can toss a pickle slice in the air of this delicatessen and hit any woman prettier. When is the crowd going to exit from the back to mock me or douse me with a bucket of mayonnaise?”
Her outburst sends chills down Elimu’s spine, as he gathers thoughts for a proper response.
Continued…
Return twice weekly for miniseries. Any relation to actual persons or events is coincidental. Login provides the most immersive experience. About 2500 total words. Audio may include sound effects that alter reading time. Cinematic materials are available with ClinicalNovellas Cinematic membership. Story includes one or more generative AI images to help readers visualize scenes.
