My other half, my built-in best friend and little sister, is finally graduating. I say “little”, but she’s not so little any more.
Whenever friends at work ask about her, I always refer to her as my “little sister”. Then one day, someone asked her age, and I said, “Oh, she’s only four years younger than me”. The look of surprise on their face, I will never forget it.
But the truth is, no matter how old she is, she will always be little to me.
I told her I was writing a column about her, something to reflect on our best memories, and as a gift for her graduation – although it has since been made clear she was expecting a trip! As I sit here writing and reflecting on our memories, I am choking up.
Every chapter of our lives holds its own special memories. Her favourite? The times I dragged her along to my basketball practices or hangouts with my friends, just so she wouldn’t be alone at home. Why did I do that? Simple. If I was going to have fun, she had to have fun too. If I ate, she ate. I never made plans without considering how it would fit both of us.
That’s how Hooyo (Mum, in Somali) raised us, to be joined at the hip.
Our childhood wasn’t always sunshine and giggles though. There were hair-pulling fights and plenty of moments that ended with Hooyo shouting at me to act like the eldest and be the role model. Back then, I didn’t fully understand what that meant. But now, seeing her grow into a person who is strong, grounded and full of purpose, I hope something in the way I lived helped shape the woman she is becoming.
I don’t have many motivators in life, except Allah, our mother and my sister. I rarely say it out loud, but I’ve learnt so much from her. Her bravery, for one, always inspires me. I remember going to Wild Wadi in Dubai. She fearlessly tried every ride and dragged me along. She gave me confidence, made me leap even when I doubted her judgment.
I think of those moments now as I watch her leap into this next chapter.
I clearly remember the day she packed her bag for university, four years ago. I cried alone. Watching her go was one of the proudest, hardest moments of my life because we had envisioned that moment so many times. I promised I would make sure she got to university, that I would do whatever it took. And I did.
In that moment, she wasn’t my baby sister any more. She was stepping into a world that is both beautiful and brutal. And I worried: would she hold her own, when I wasn’t there to protect her?
It was very clear that she was going to be OK. One of the first signs was a disagreement with friends. When she told me the story, I realised I wasn’t talking to the little Sumaya, who would once run to me in tears. I was speaking to a calm, thoughtful young woman who knew how to carry herself.
Another was the time her manager yelled at her at her part-time job. She told me the story calmly. I gave her big sister advice: hold your ground, do the right thing. But inside, I was livid. If I could have phoned her manager, I would have. But my sister didn’t need me to.
That’s the beauty of watching her grow, knowing she can navigate life with strength and grace.
Her graduation is so much more than a degree. It’s a full-circle moment, a chapter closing with pride and another opening with promise.
The sleepless nights, dragging me out after work for painting and photoshoots, sewing looks for her dream of becoming a fashion designer, they are behind us now. But what lies ahead is even more exciting. And I’m endlessly proud. Not just for what she has accomplished, but for who she is.
I’ll never forget her first runway show. To say I was proud is an understatement. I reached for my phone instantly, like a parent desperate to capture every second. I could hardly believe my eyes.
When Hooyo was out working, I slipped into the role of second mum without even realising it. I was the one shaping bits of her world, teaching her things in my own quiet ways. Like letting her figure things out by herself, even when I knew the answer, just so she would learn to trust herself. It might have felt frustrating then, but it was my way of helping her grow into someone confident and capable.
She has now grown into a woman I deeply admire. And no matter where life takes her, you will always be my little sister, the heart I carry outside of myself.
