Where Babies Come From

I remember the day I learnt that babies are not bought from special shops called Hospitals, that day when all the notions of angelic storks flew out the window.

I remember that our dad had just dropped us off from school, and my mother was still in the kitchen. My sister sort of caught me in that moment where we lingered in the hallway. She had this really evil glint in her eye, and she leaned in close and said: "Do you want to know where babies come from?"

Obviously, that by itself does not say much. But it was the tone, the kind of tone that suggests a nasty joke is going to follow, at your expense. And the expression, mischievous, devious. Without her having to say anything further, I knew it was something 'bad', and I remember covering my ears and running for it, down two hallways and out the back door, screaming 'NANANANANANA I CAN'T HEAR YOUUU!' all the way. I must have been 8 or 9 years old.

She never did give me the details, and I don't actually know when I learned those details, but I count that moment as the one that stole that part of my innocence. Clearly I had been anticipating such a terrible deed when it came out, so that's why I wasn't so shocked as to have the actual memory for the day.

But while I know my own experiences of learning where babies came from, I kind of took my sister's for granted, you know? I never did ask her how she learnt, because I was so devastated that she took that away from me. Well, yesterday, my older sister, Creepy Z, and I were taking a walk down memory lane, and I got the full story.

Let's rewind, way before I ran out screaming and my sister first turned to me with that evil look in her eye.

She's at school, and she happens to look over the shoulders of some guys in her class, on the computer, and lo and behold, what does she see? Some very intimate photos. Lots of people, lack of clothes. You know what I mean. Don't make me say it.

And her little self-righteous self is aghast. 

"What are you looking at? Why are you doing that?" she snaps. The boys kind of roll their eyes.

"Don't you know where babies come from?" one bonehead asks her. And she's still aghast, but now a little disbelieving too, and slightly shocked and disgusted. And a bit curious.

So after we fast forward passed our moment in the hallway of my house, you find her spending the entire day trying to make 'appointments' with my mother. My mother would be in the kitchen, serving lunch, then cleaning up, then making dinner, then cleaning up, and in all these various intervals, my sister'd approach.

"Mum," she'd say hesitantly. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yes?" my mother'd reply, her usual indifferent sort of self. My sister would blank, and with hurried mumble of 'nothing', she'd evacuate. It soon became clear she was not going to have That Conversation with my mother, so she had to wait for a certain someone else.

That someone is a girl called Sabriah. Subriah? Umm... wow. I don't even know how to spell her name. But basically, her family is really close with ours, our dads go back to sharing a house in their bachelor days, as they always remind us. Sabriah, she plays the role of both my older sister's close friend, and a kind of older sister for her too. She's the wise one. I have so much respect for her, because she was the one who got me to read Harry Potter. I don't know about you, but usually when my sister hung out with her friends, I'd be kicked out by all of them being the annoying kid sister, and they were never nice about it. Sabriah always made sure I had something to do. 

Anyhow, the point is, my sister kept all this turmoil inside until we visited them. The two of them disappeared into her room, leaving me with the piano that day, maybe. I don't really remember.

As soon as they're locked in, my sister bursts.

"Where are babies from?" she asks, finally allowing the panic she's been penting up to surface. "Because this guy told me this... blah blah blah... but I don't think that's right. It can't be right. It must be haraam. Allah would never allow something like that. It can't be."

Sabriah kind of blinks, and says: "Umm, I think you should say the shahadah, quick, I think you just went outside of Islam then."

I mean, they were both fairly young. My sister would have been 9 or 10, and I guess Sabriah would have been 11 or 12.

Anyway, as soon as my sister affirmed her faith again, Sabriah sat her down with a heavy sigh, one burdened with the weight of bad news.

"I'm afraid it's true," she said, much to my sister's horror.

And that's my sister's story. Why did I share it? Besides the fact that it amuses me, well, the moral is: my older sister was actually really cute once ^_^

So tell me, do you guys have stories about that one moment in your life? Know anyone else's weird or cute stories? I know a guy whose younger sister broke it to him, and he cried. My cousin also said that in our ickle village, if they don't learn it at school, the uncles break it to the boys just before they get married. Girls, due to our official change from girl to woman, learn it a bit earlier. And I mean, tell me, does anyone actually ever have That Talk with their parents, like I always see in movies and TV shows and stuff? I don't think I've ever met someone who has o.O

Peace in,
Laila