Prayers Answered

Surprise couple of mails from Serangoon Yatie this morning completely out of the blue. Calls, mails, arrangements had all been fruitless where Yatie had been concerned the last month and more. Once or twice she explained briefly there were family problems with which she was pre-occupied. No details and handled solo as usual. Prayers and fasting had been the assumption, more or less confirmed in this morning's exchanges.
         Presently the eldest brother in hot water. Difficult to get the story properly over the telephone. Seems Awang Widodo, the brother, was caught by the cops riding an unregistered motor-cycle. Not the first time caught; five months the bike had been unregistered. Cops had drawn a line. A recent visit had laid it down.
         — You gunna pay this fine or come with us to the jailhouse, boy?
         Threw the poor sis into apoplexy. The good, loving, reliable sister, saviour of the family. Eight or nine years was it? in Singapore sacrificing herself for the others. Ensuring better for sisters and brother, mother and father. Spinsterhood one of the accidental outcomes; pretty fine spinster that she makes, Yatie, in her early thirties.
         Prayers on their own had been insufficient until now. How to get the money? Yatie had none just now. Everything she had all accounted for in her many, various outlays: one sister's nursing school fees, another's trade school (an accomplished seamstress), the father's brick kiln, up-keep of the house Yatie had built for herself in the kampung where she would retire soon to attend to her aging parents. Perhaps Yatie had sent chocolates to the sister encountering marriage difficulties a little while ago. That was the most recent family trouble prior to this current that prevented Yatie going out the last month and more.
         Prayers and proper devotion take time and energy. Focus. The thin, slight frame had long given hint. Fasting integral in the performance of devotion and supplication. It wasn't just Ramadan and the high marks of the calendar Yatie met with the fast. Hope for God's intercession needed dedicated engagement. Certainly six hundred a month here wasn't going to solve all the day to day dramas of a large and growing family back home.
         How to get the money? To whom could Yatie possibly turn?
         Difficulties for the sister beginning two or three weeks ago had come from the usual direction. Husband straying, caught out in an affair. Sister outraged; devoutness likely running in the family. Threats of divorce, immediate separation—mentioned by Yatie in the morning's call.   
         All torment and despair in poor sweet Yatie's head. Unknown as yet, but possibly the situation rescued by Yatie's wise, patient counsel. Counsel and of course prayers and supplication.
         The new problem had now supplanted the former. The way Yatie spoke on the phone suggested the brother was front and square and there was nothing else of concern.
         How to possibly get the money? To whom to possibly turn?
         Yatie had never been one for friends here. The girls in Singapore, the compatriots working as maids, could not easily suit a girl like Yatie. So much dissolution; many of the girls were young.
         For some reason as yet unknown, the French employer, with a young Indon wife the same age as Yatie, could not be asked for a small advance.
         There was good understanding and respect between maid and employers. The Indon wife had been brought back to Islam through the good offices of the maid. Young daughter of the union likewise now leading an Islamic life; through the patient good offices of the maid Yatie. Yet in this time of need, this time of trouble and torment, neither Sir nor Madam could be approached.
         Likely it would muddy the relationship. There would need to be explanations, all the troubles to unfold. The respectful, professional distance broached and unable to be rescued. For all the possible explanations that might be conceived on the matter of the hesitancy to approach those of her household, nonetheless a surprise. Finally Yatie's steadfastness it may come down to. Some other way needed to be found.
         Overnight or this morning Yatie's prayers had been answered. At least the message had been transmitted, the hint given.
         — Yes, do. Try ---------. Go ahead and give it a go.
         ….To be mentioned in a communication with God can never be taken lightly. Certainly a privilege. Not to mention in this case the unfamiliar, unknown power of the Musilman in question. (The Montenegrin cousins would be horrified. In the neighbourhood of Geylang Serai Yatie prays in the Muslim Converts building, a stone's throw from the hotel. God almighty forefend!)
         Not only the whole of this foregoing; in addition the mention had been from upstairs coming down. That's what it sounded like on the phone. The name of one's person in the very mouth of the Almighty. Almost like being admitted to the ranks of the elect…. This one named and specified can be approached. Not likely just anyone can win that kind of implicit trust.
         The wise old Shakespearean injunction, good old well-meaning Polonius sending reminder to his son against lending and borrowing, had certainly not been forgotten. But then what to do in the face of the higher power? How to reject pious entreaty?
         ….If you can't that's OK, Yatie had said in the mail.
         A nice, polite enquiry in broken English. Not the language of the on-line frauds.
         The date with Western Union at SingPost proceeding pretty much without a hitch. Luckily Barak had come good with part-payment of his back-rent just after New Year. Some fat there.
         Upon strict confirmation of identity, PAY the said Awang Widodo of Indonesia (address unnecessary) the sum of Two Hundred and Fifty Dollars S$250 ONLY.
         Lady behind the desk had asked whether the recipient was known to the sender.
         Yatie had it about 2mil. Rupiah. Not far wrong: 1.724 today's exchange rate.
         Should be more than sufficient for cops bent or otherwise, registration, a mechanical once-over on the bike and a celebratory drink of sugar cane thereafter (again the assumption the devoutness runs smooth in the family).
         It's not going to come cheap either. The scribe hesitates to record it against his person. Is it a little shameful? In the interests of truth, sincerity and fair-dealing dear reader, frank disclosure.
         At the scheduled date of repayment on Sunday 14 Januario (as the employers are back in town Yatie can't get away on the Saturday when she gets her dollars), Yatie Widodo will be requested, rather than taking her prayers over at the Converts, instead to repair to the room in the hotel and there please complete all that needs to be done in complete peace and security. 
         A green kiblah on the ceiling gives the direction of Mecca. The tacky carpet can be covered by a couple of fresh towels. (Room service gals and guys have long been on-side.) Bed moved if necessary for space. No kidding. No profanity. Nothing nefarious. An artist, entirely respectful, with his subject before him and nothing more.
         Condemn if you will dear reader.
         Could Yatie possibly assent?
         Holy prayer. A devout worshipper, faithful honest maid at her orizons.      
         Never mind the thanks. More than enough recompense, should the wish be granted.
         Reader, watch this space.