Sentimental Journeys

I hold her hand tightly as we walk through Heathrow airport. The size of it leaves me speechless. I have never seen such a vast place in my entire life. I take measured steps with my daughter by my side, feeling as though, I may lose her in this sea of people. People, who are all looking very busy and harassed, one way or another.

I try to keep up the pace with a relative, who has been kindly guiding us through the journey so far. He is ahead as he is familiar with this building, this country, and its people. We are not.

While he goes through immigration easily, we stay behind for tests as it is our first time in the country. My daughter is told to sit and wait and I am taken inside for tests.

When you come to the UK for the first time, you must be tested before they can allow you to go through the barrier. It is a safety measure.

They invite an interpreter to enable me to communicate. The interpreter says I must perform a mammogram test. It is an X-ray of the breasts. This is shocking for me as I did not expect it. Being a Muslim woman, I find it very hard to unclothe but they try to reassure me by giving me a gown to cover myself. This is a relief. I am given some time to prepare for the test. Once it is over I feel I have conquered Everest.

They ask some more questions and do some more tests. Once they are satisfied, we are guided through a long white corridor, snaking its way out of scrutiny.

We are again, asked to sit and wait until we are called. So, here we are in Great Britain. We sit and wait. Hours pass by. We sit and wait.