By Munavvar Tlewbaeva

It was autumn. A Friday. The cold crept slowly into my bones as the sun began to set.

I had just finished my English course and was heading from the city back to my village — back to my family, to my beloved home. I was a ninth-grade girl. The smells of expensive sweets and warm street food teased my appetite, yet nothing could match the taste of my mother’s freshly brewed tea and the warm, simple bread she had baked. Lost in these thoughts, I didn’t even notice how I got onto the bus. I took a seat near the front.

A few moments later, a girl sat beside me. She looked about twenty-three or twenty-four, married — a ring glinting on her finger. Her dark hair was neat, but her eyes held a shadow. She tried to smile, yet there was something restrained, as if a hidden sadness pressed behind that smile.

“This seat taken?” she asked.

“No,” I replied.

The bus started moving. She asked my name and where I studied. I answered. Then, in a low voice, almost as if speaking to herself, she began to tell me her story.

“I’m getting off at the next stop,” she said softly. “I’m going to the hospital… to have an abortion.”

My heart froze. I was just a child — how could I understand such things?

“Why?” I whispered.

She looked down. “My husband ordered it. He said he didn’t want a girl… But I couldn’t agree. I am a mother, after all… But what can I do? Where would I go? My parents, my job… nothing.”

Two tears rolled down her dark eyes. I wanted to say something, but I was too young. Yet I whispered:

“Your child… is precious.”

She paused, thought for a moment, and then nodded softly.

“Yes…” she said.

The bus slowed. She rose to get off. Before stepping down, she looked at me and whispered:

“Take care, sister.”

She stepped down.

The bus moved on, heavy with silence. I stared out the window, trying to make sense of her words.

I am twenty now. That bus, that woman, that silence — I have never forgotten. Now I know what to say, yet at that moment, it was too late.

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Munavvar Tlewbaeva is a writer and literary translator working across Turkic languages. Her writing has appeared in international platforms such as Synchronized Chaos, Kenya Times, and Classico Opine. Her work focuses on women’s narratives, memory, and social realities.