Annisa Essack – kzn@radioislam.org.za
18 March 2025 | 12:00 CAT
2 min read
When the sky rained fire, and the earth trembled beneath us, I gathered my family and fled. It was January 22, 2024—a day that should have been marked with celebration, not sorrow. The relentless shelling left no room for hesitation. We took only what we could carry, leaving behind a lifetime of cherished belongings. My daughter’s wedding trousseau, carefully chosen for a future now uncertain, remained behind. My elegant suits, once symbols of my dignity and presence, were left to the dust of war.
But as I rushed to secure the essentials—documents, certificates, a fragile tether to my past—I reached for one more thing: a bottle of Paco Rabanne perfume.
It was not mere vanity that made my hand close around it. That bottle, with its unbroken glass and enduring fragrance, was a testament to who I was before the war tried to erase me. A reminder that beyond survival, there must still be living. Its scent was the whisper of better days, a quiet assurance that beauty could persist even amid devastation. It was a promise to myself—that no matter how far I had to run, some part of me, some essence of normalcy, would remain unshaken.
Now, 526 days later, as I uncap the bottle and let a single spritz escape into the air, I close my eyes. For a moment, I am transported—not to the ruins left behind, but to memories of laughter, of family gatherings, of warmth that no war can extinguish. The fragrance lingers, wrapping around me like an old friend, whispering that hope is not lost. That I am not lost.
This perfume bottle, small and fragile, has survived the journey. Its glass remains unbroken, just as my spirit refuses to shatter. It is more than a fragrance—it is defiance, it is patience, it is resilience.
And just as its scent endures, so too will our hope. One day, the sun of our freedom will rise again, and we will return to rebuild, to reclaim, to live.
My perfume bottle is not broken. And neither am I.
Credit for the story is to Prof. Said Al-Namrouti – this is his lived experience
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