Maryam's Discovery

January 2011: "We're gonna have to let you go."

There was a reason why she went by "Mary" instead of her native moniker of "Maryam" and the current look on her manager's face is exactly why.

"Oh don't get me wrong, Mary... uh, yam. Sorry, I'm still getting used to your new name. Although we've been happy with your work, we need to part ways with you in order to... ah, for the betterment of the company. Surely you remember agreeing that the success of this office is of paramount importance and if we encounter... obstacles that could jeopardize the efficacy of the work we do here, we need to avoid such a prospect without hesitation. We're gonna have to let you go."

***

Before she headed to the Kabul International Airport on a gusty morning in 2008 to begin her new life in the riveting world of Columbus, Ohio, Maryam's mother held her tightly and advised her a name change would probably be the best course of action in order to achieve potential success.

"Bachem, you know how beautiful your name is. But where you're going, they might not like it too much. It can be strange for them. I don't want them to say no to you before they have a chance to know you."

Maryam Shabnami was a widowed 24 year old mother of two small children. Her husband, Yusuf, perished after stepping on a land mine two years prior. They were childhood sweethearts whose parents eagerly discussed marriage plans as they played football together. Yusuf's father passed when he was twelve and his mother battled lung cancer throughout his life.

Maryam and Yusuf ultimately fell in love and were married in an intimate ceremony at his mother's house. She lived long enough to see her only son marry the love of his life and passed away from complications a week after the wedding.

They decided to move closer to Maryam's parents' house so they could help with the care of any future children. She gave birth to their son, Bilal, when she was 18 years old while their daughter named Rehana arrived four years later. The kids were named after Yusuf's parents.

Following his death, Maryam along with her toddler and newborn moved back in with her parents where they did their best to live off any savings but abject poverty engulfed them.

Bilal and Rehana were six and two years old respectively when Maryam had to say goodbye to them in hopes of earning enough money in The United States to bring them over.

"Madar jan, you know 'Maryam' is basically the Islam version of 'Mary'. I don't think it'll be that big of a deal to go by Maryam."

"Please then say your name is Mary. I just don't want you to be hurt, bachem."

Her typically quiet father chimed in with his show of support, "Maryam jan, you're young now and believe you know everything but parents have more wisdom and your mother is right."

Maryam studied English and took a great liking to engineering during her schooling years so she was comfortable enough with the language to get by. She read up on Ohio as much as she could but knew there would be resistance met when she leaves her home country for a brand new... everything.

A different language, new culture, immense responsibilities; although Maryam was up for the challenge, she was unbelievably terrified. The last thing she wanted was to worry her already stressed-out-to-the-max mother so she remained calm around her parents despite enduring this growing internal trepidation.

"... Alright. I'll go by Mary. Love you both. Now please don't worry yourselves, I'm going to be fine!"

***

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fisher. I'm not feeling so well right at this moment. I just... if you could maybe explain to me what I've done wrong? And if I can fix it?"

***

Maryam knew she would receive looks when she timidly walked into her office wearing a simple, black hijab.

When she was interviewed to be a system administrator at this successful tech company over two years ago, she expressed her dream of ultimately becoming one of their software engineers. She intentionally kept details of her private life as vague as she could ("yeah, they're just in Afghanistan right now. You know, with the Taliban and all that") but wanted to explain her situation enough for them to take a chance on her.

She also wanted to assimilate by displaying her long, brown hair despite wearing the head covering for most of her life.

The manager, Mr. Rick Fisher, admired her determination and hired Maryam to start at a solid salary along with healthy benefits. She, of course, reassured him to call her "Mary."

Throughout her majority white, male-dominated office, her colleagues knew she was Muslim but never was it brought up. When she fasted during Ramadan, Maryam insisted she just wasn't hungry when they asked her out to lunch. When she would return home after work, she'd spend more than an hour performing her make-up prayers because she didn't want any attention to be set upon her during the work day.

After working there for awhile, she eventually felt comfortable enough to wear her hijab and go by "Maryam." Her colleagues' consistent avoidance of the topic made her believe everything was copacetic. That is, until Fisher called her into his office a few weeks following this modification.

***

"As I said, Mary, you're fine... really. We've just noticed a lack of... focus from your side and your work output hasn't been the best either and that's not what is best for us right now--"

"-- But I thought you told me if I keep up with what I'm doing, I could potentially become a team lead?"

"I'm sorry, there's nothing you can do... Now, ah, I see here you also unfortunately haven't remained onboard long enough for any severance so... We just wish you the best of luck in all your endeavours. Please have your desk cleared out by tonight."

Maryam was broken.

She had enough in her savings to last a few months. After that, she'd need a miracle.

One thing was certain: there was absolutely no way she could tell her parents.

April 2011: "I've heard some good things about Bitcoin."

While finishing out her evening shift as a waitress in a quiet diner, a groggy Maryam stepped outside to take the trash out.

She had to cut down on virtually every luxury ranging from ibuprofen to any meal following breakfast in order to make enough money to send to her family and pay the rent.

Maryam had to work double shifts for the rest of the week in order to afford another month at her apartment whose price was set to increase at the beginning of July. With Ramadan rapidly approaching, she knew whenever she would have a day off she'd need to find a new place to stay from July onward.

As she rubbed the back of her neck the way Yusuf did when a tiny Bilal would experience a temper tantrum, she felt herself welling up. She would periodically wake up with her pillow drenched from her tears but never had she cried at work.

At this point, Maryam was on her last stretch of sanity and needed this emotional release to keep her from imploding.

There was a method she utilized whenever she was at her absolute lowest point: reciting the Shahada. It is essentially what makes a Muslim a Muslim. She'd repeat it not only during times of immense stress but also of supreme happiness. It served as a reminder that she will overcome whatever she is enduring. She will eventually reach happiness... It's just incredibly hard to picture it at this moment.

As she wiped away the residue from her tired eyes, she noticed an object wedged under a brick. She reached down to pick up a small and worn-out black notebook. She used the maroon ribbon bookmark to open up to the spot that read:

"To the Person reading this Little Black Book,

Go. For. It.

- Philip."

The next page featured a PayPal account and password with no other information provided.

When she returned home, she stared at the notebook and wondered what the words of this stranger could possibly mean. Curiosity eventually got the best of her and she logged into the account.

Her jaw dropped when she read what was on the screen:

PayPal Balance: $20,000 USD.

"... This is a joke."

A skeptical Maryam knew this was too good to be true but she wanted to be certain so she transferred $100 from the PayPal to her chequing account.

"Wait... It worked?! No... there's no... way."

After spending hours debating the merits of this mysterious discovery, she decided it would be best to invest at least a portion of the money. She was elated that she'd now be able to save enough to afford at least a few months' rent.

Maryam remembered how her and her work friend Jeremy would discuss the rising virtues of "a Bitcoin." She'd always been interested in the markets and heard potential rumblings that its current $1 price status was bound to make a jump sometime this year.

She took the deepest breath she'd ever taken before she proceeded with her Bitcoin investment. She thought of what she'd do if the investment failed. How that would affect her parents, whether her children would be safe... And happy.

Throughout all the doubts, she knew there was a reason she encountered this special book. The risk would be worth it.

She closed her eyes, recited the Shahada, and clicked "submit."

June 2019: "To the Person reading this Little Black Book..."

The risk paid off.

Bitcoin's price increased to $32 two months after her investment and despite its subsequent volatile performance, Maryam remained vigilant with her finances. She continued with her education and excitedly accepted a position at Berni Incorporated as a software engineer. She continued working despite the success found with her investment.

By June 2019, the price of the cryptocurrency surpassed $10,000 and Maryam knew she would be able to support her children and future grandchildren with whatever their dreams may be.

(Within reason, of course.)

She ultimately became a citizen and was finally reunited with her children. She was able to donate to numerous charities along with funding an orphanage to be built in Kabul called The Shabnami Home for Orphans. She continued sending money to her parents and disputed the perpetual refusals by them to be sponsored.

"Madar, I am doing well. Why don't you want to live over here with us?"

"Afghanistan will always be our home, bachem. You can call me whenever you want... Now, did you feed the children? What if they are hungry?!"

Maryam returned to the alleyway by the quiet diner that changed her life all those years ago. She smiled as she placed the ribbon bookmark on her page entry which read:

"To the Person reading this Little Black Book,

I found this glimmer of hope when I needed it the most.

I hope it brings you the same solace as it brought me.

As-salaamu Alaikum... Peace be with you.

- Maryam."

She wedged the notebook underneath an aged brick and proceeded into the diner to order whatever the kids wanted for dinner.

***

Thank you so much for reading!

This was an incredibly personal piece for me to write.

Utilizing my background as an Afghan and Muslim to create a story that (hopefully) resonates with not only someone like me but others with completely opposing views is something I truly hope to accomplish.

I would highly recommend checking out the other submissions for Vocal's Little Black Book Challenge. I'm eternally grateful that this platform has allowed me the opportunity to create works like "Maryam's Discovery."

If you like anything found in this piece, please click that little heart on the screen, send over a tip or follow me over on Twitter!