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The man Junayda called Papa was a royal gendarme, a strict man who believed in order and discipline. “You’ll thank me for this one day,” he would tell her when he spanked her with his belt for stealing, or sneaking around, or talking back.
When she was caught with a boy after curfew, he left his post mid-shift. He rushed over, determined to whip her in front of everyone. Her cries almost drowned out the sound of the first bomb. Junayda’s real Mama had come back from exile, and mother and daughter both were ready for the revolution to begin.