"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihil rajiun!" That was the only thing I uttered, feeling so embarrassed it was as if I had sunk into the ground. Before I could do anything else, I saw him approaching the front of his system, adjusting his glasses, and in his soft-spoken English accent that sent shivers down one’s spine, he began explaining the topic he had already written on the whiteboard. Quietly, I was jotting down notes while munching on the sandwich, knowing I had to eat to prevent my body from betraying me again.

By the time the class ended, I was feeling restless. After he left, Alamin came and sat beside me and said, “Since you know it’s hunger making you faint like that, why don’t you eat?”

I didn’t say anything, just gave an embarrassed smile. He said, “Alright then! Go, Dr. Akram is calling you.”

I quickly looked at him and said, “Me? Why?”

He looked at me the same way I looked at him and said, “How would I know? He’s the teacher; maybe there’s a reason he’s calling you after class?”

I stood up, feeling nervous again, wondering what I was doing. Was I thinking he’d say he likes me or something? I let out a laugh—Bintu, you have no sense at all. What would a guy like that want with me? I’m so chubby, probably the size of his mother. Then I felt another wave of weakness overwhelm me. So, I headed to the office, as if I was being led to a confrontation. I knocked gently, like someone filled with fear, and was surprised when I heard the door being opened. I stepped back slightly, almost tripping, and he said, “Come in!”

As he said this, he went inside, and I quietly followed him. He sat in his chair, gestured for me to sit, and then responded to my greeting. After taking off his glasses, he said, “Bintu, right?”

I nodded, and he said, “So, Fatima! When did this fainting start?”

You know, sometimes things happen, and you don’t even know why they’re happening. Or you meet a single soul who enters your life and changes everything, or you stop certain behaviors and develop new ones for someone specific. You know, anyone who asked me a question like that, I’d usually just stare at them without answering. But with him, I felt like I just wanted to open up. “Last week!”

He nodded and said, “How many episodes have you had?”

I said, “Three!”

He paused for a moment before saying, “Fatima!”

I slowly looked up at him, and he was staring at me as if there was something on my face. He said, “I want to ask you something, but if you feel it’s too personal, you don’t have to answer. I just feel obliged to know your problem. What’s wrong, Fatima? What’s stopping you from eating?”

I stayed silent, fidgeting with my hands, unsure where to begin answering him. It was a heavy matter, but I felt that since he was the only one in the world who seemed to care about my problem, I should tell him. “I want to lose weight!”

I said it in more of a whisper, but I was surprised that he heard me. He said, “You want to lose weight? Why? Can you share with me?”

Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door, which stopped me from speaking. It was the Dean’s messenger, informing him that the Dean needed him urgently. That made him say, “Fatima, I’m sorry, our session will have to end here. I hope we can meet another time!”