My Abba Knows How To Swim

My Amma keeps on crying, and she keeps on telling me that Abba has drowned in the flood. But how can Abba drown? He knows how to swim.

Once we were on a boat on the River Turag. I was a big boy by then so Abba decided to give me a bag to hold, but I accidentally dropped it into the river. I think the bag had a lot of money in it. That's why Abba immediately jumped into the water leaving Amma and me alone on the boat. Amma slapped me for not being careful, but before she could hit me more, Abba returned to the boat. He was soaking wet. As soon as he got back on the boat, Amma took the bag and checked its contents. Amma was happy to see the bag intact and I was happy to see my Abba. He looked like those white men on television which I see when I peep into the next door bricked house. Those white men bring out big fish from the water, but my Abba brought out our important bag. Abba was my hero.

So Abba knows how to swim. But Amma keeps on crying. Our tin house has collapsed because of the floods and all our belongings are lost. Abba will probably come back after getting them. All that I'm worried about is my rickshaw tyre. I love to play with it. I want to go back home but Amma says that we'll go after the water recedes.

Amma is crying and saying, “Allah should take away mothers instead of fathers. How will I earn money? How will I buy rice? How shall I look after little Imran?”

How can adults like Amma be so wrong? If Allah takes away Amma, who will cook rice? Who will feed me? Who will bathe me? Abba is always out the whole day.

After two days, Amma and I can finally go back to the spot where our home has collapsed. I see our neighbours trying to retrieve their belongings. Amma looks around for something salvageable from the debris and I search for my tyre. Hours seem to pass with little hope. I'm sure Abba can find it when he returns.

“Your Abba will not come Imran! Your Abba will never come!” cries Amma. She starts beating her forehead in despair.

The sun is about to set. I see my Abba walking towards us just as the Maghrib Azaan starts. Seeing him, Amma hugs Abba and tears of joy roll down her cheeks. Abba is crying too.

“I thought I would never see you all again,” he says.

“Amma thought you were dead. She forgot that you could swim.” Abba smiles at me.

We have no shelter over our heads, but I am happy that the three of us are together after so many days and happier because Abba has found my tyre for me.