।। Let It Wait Today ।।

By: Siddiquer Rahman Nirjhor

Dedicated to all storytellers who turn ordinary lives into extraordinary stories.

It is Saturday afternoon in Tower Hamlets. A light rain is falling over East London.

Sarah is walking through the supermarket with her ten-year-old son, Oliver. They stop in front of the chilled meat section.

Oliver looks at his mother.

— Mum, are we having chicken tonight?

Sarah picks up a packet and checks the price. After a moment, she puts it back.

— Let it wait today, love.

Oliver looks at her.

— But you said we were having it today.

— I did. It just didn’t work out.

— Is it too expensive?

Sarah gives him a faint smile.

— When did you learn to understand all this?

Oliver shrugs.

— When you look at the price and put things back, I understand.

Sarah reaches for a packet of pasta instead.

At home, Zara is sitting at the kitchen table, doing her homework. Sarah puts the shopping away.

A little later, Simon comes home from work. He takes off his coat and walks into the kitchen.

— Did you get it?

Sarah shakes her head.

— No.

Simon gives a small smile.

— I probably wouldn’t have bought it either. There’s still a long way to go until payday.

They both work, yet every month seems to become harder.

The rent in Tower Hamlets takes a large part of their income. Then there is electricity, gas, food, transport, school expenses, and all the little costs that keep appearing. Even visiting relatives or going somewhere together means spending money on travel and other things.

After dinner, Simon opens their household budget on his laptop.

— We need to think about moving.

Sarah looks at him.

— Where?

— Somewhere cheaper. Maybe outside Tower Hamlets.

Sarah pauses.

— And the children?

— They may have to change schools.

From the other room, Zara hears them.

— I don’t want to change my school.

Sarah looks towards her daughter.

— I know, love.

Zara lowers her eyes.

— I like my school. I like my friends.

Simon closes the laptop.

— I know. That’s why we have to think carefully.

Dinner that evening is pasta.

Oliver eats a few mouthfuls before asking:

— Mum, will we have it next Saturday?

Sarah looks at him.

— We’ll see, sweetheart.

After dinner, the children go to their rooms.

Sarah returns to the kitchen and notices a small piece of paper beside her plate. She picks it up.

It is Oliver’s handwriting:

“Mum, next time we have it, you can have mine too.”

Sarah reads it twice.

Simon comes into the kitchen and sees the note in her hand.

He says nothing.

Sarah folds the paper carefully and puts it inside the kitchen drawer.

Simon opens the laptop again. On the screen are two notes he has written:

“Lower rent — schools farther away.”

“Slightly higher rent — easier transport.”

Sarah stands beside him.

For a while, neither of them speaks.

Outside, the rain continues over Tower Hamlets.

Inside, the two working parents sit with the same question in their minds:

How long can a family keep living here when even an ordinary family meal has become something they have to think twice about?

Sarah looks towards the children’s rooms.

Then she says softly:

— Let it wait today.

Perhaps next Saturday, too.

London, 23 September 2026