Short Story: Call me Nazia by Cécile Rischmann

Cécile Rischmann takes the reader on a walk down memory lane as she shares a tender story revolving around Nazia Hassan and the impact she had on young women at that time.

“Wear your braids behind, Nazarene,” advised her brother, Hussain, as he neatly trimmed his overgrown hair. He had a clean and fashionable appearance despite their limited means.

Nazarene dutifully obliged, throwing her simple three-strand braids behind. Her concern was more with the irritation of her throat, which made her cough between recitals. Bad sign! Her voice was going to bring her family out of their poverty, she thought.

Hussain worked during the day and would often wake up in the early hours, paper and pen in hand to jot down the song lyrics whenever inspiration struck. Nazarene would try out the lyrics, and they’d tweak them a bit so that they synced with the tune. Their papa would curse Hussain for lighting a candle and disturbing his peaceful slumber. But Hussain and Nazarene didn’t let him dampen their spirit. They would become stars. Allah declared it when he had created them.