Member-only story
A mobile beauty parlour and the big ambitions of its female owner
Alma Begum* authored this report for Zan Times, translated to English by Rustam Seerat
“I’m in an English course. Stand by the Restaurant, and I’ll meet you there,” was the message from the beautician I wanted to interview about her mobile beauty parlour. At the designated time, I waited at the designated spot, watching people pass by. I was waiting for a girl whose hands crafted beauty and imagined she’d be more robust and taller than the other girls I saw walk by, carrying books discreetly under their arms. When I called to ask her location, she answered, “Sister, I just got out of the course, and I’m hopping on a taxi. Just wait five minutes.”
So I stayed and observed the hustle and bustle of the busy alley — schools, courses, grocery stores, wheelbarrows, carts, butchers, and more. A shop with a sign that read ‘Domestic Oil’ also sold groceries. Across from it was a religious school, with its own billboards, which promoted its teachings in recitation and interpretation.
Moments later, a tall girl appeared in the distance, her face veiled at the sides but keeping her hair visible. She had already said her name is Marziah*. She didn’t look robust but her skin was radiant. As she gazed around, I called the beautician’s mobile…
