What Fatima Notices

An excerpt from Inherited Silence

I chose this excerpt from my upcoming novel, Inherited Silence, to explore how power is performed and perceived and who sees through it. Centered on Fatima and Omar, the scene unfolds in a religious space, contrasting outward authority with inner truth as it reveals Fatima’s growing awareness and distance from Omar.

Omar stepped up to the podium. Its polished surface showed faint scratches, worn smooth where hands had gripped it over the years, but it still stood firm.

Omar squared his shoulders, slightly raised his chin, and tugged the microphone stand a bit upward. Its base scraped against the carpet, followed by a sharp squeal that made a few people wince. He gave the mic a couple of quick taps, testing, then leaned forward with a half-smile, as if he’d already captured their attention.

“Assalamualaikum, brothers and sisters,” he began, his voice cracking on the first word before smoothing into something more profound. One hand rested on the edge of the podium, fingers splayed, while the other hovered near the mic as if conducting the silence.

“We welcome you to this historic event, the grand opening of the first mosque in our community…”

Behind him, the new mimbar gleamed. Untouched, reserved for words meant to guide. To Fatima, it felt like a place for proper guidance, not performance. Next to it, Omar’s practiced pauses felt smaller, like a man borrowing authority he hadn’t earned.

The congregation sat still, the air heavy with reverence or expectation. Fatima wasn’t sure.