BTS 2021: Here are some of our favourite posts

It is no lie – 2021 has been quite the s#itstorm! But if there is one thing we can all agree on – there have been some hidden gems amongst the rubble. Today, let’s take a look at some of our favourite posts on GirlOnTheBus – plus, a happy word from our uber-talented writers!

“with writing, there’s always a risk of writing ‘too much’ or ‘too little’. With any of my poems, they come spontaneously through dreams, life events, emotions and experiences where I just feel like ‘this would make a great story’ or I just need to find some outlet for whatever is brewing inside without it coming in the form of a 2000 word essay. poems are little nuggets packed with loads of material and substance, no one poem is the same as another and the meanings can be different for everyone. a poem could start off one way, with an idea, and then do a complete 180-turn as you’re writing – it’s a sojourn on a page!” – Saadiqah Schroeder

“Before starting Confessions, I already knew that I wanted to write something different from what I usually write in my spare time, but I didn’t really know where to start. I remember scrolling through social media and seeing all these articles and posts about people being bullied and body shamed for the way they looked. It upsets me to know that society has a specific idea of what a “perfect” body should look like. That’s why I started writing confessions because I wanted to write something that reflected my emotions about this entire idealism. I also wanted to help in spreading the message that everyone is unique, and it doesn’t matter how you look, that there are many people that will accept you for who you are no matter what you look like. I wanted people reading it to know that it doesn’t matter what you look like, what really matters is what is in your heart.” – Riahannah Halliem

“So for my story “Looking at the Sky atop the Mountain”, it was actually what I wrote for one of my school’s exams. They gave a few topics and pictures to choose from, to give some sort of idea on what to write about, and the picture that caught my eye was a stack of rocks by a cliff, and the horizon was shown in the picture. Saw I thought of writing about the weather and describing every single element in detail. At first, it was going to be a murder mystery and from the perspective of a dead victim, but the more I wrote it, I thought about how cool and unsuspected it would be to write from the stack of rocks perspective. So this story is actually told from the perspective of the rock on how it watches the sunrise, a storm brew, surge and end, and then watching the sunset to complete the day.” – Kawthar Schroeder

“I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember holding a pencil. My inner thoughts were drafts of my wish and hope for the nearest future. As an introverted child, I guess that made up so much sense why I enjoy just the company of my thoughts. Growing up, Writing, I believe, comes naturally to me depending on my mood, emotion, and motivation. 2021 has been a year unlike the previous I’ve lived. I was broken at some point, depressed and overwhelmed by the pressures life came forthwith. It was not easy taking it all in, I unplugged for most of the year to reconnect and recharge my soul, and I believe it is working. I still write from time to time. I hope to publish my first book in 2022 In shaa Allah… I anticipate a very prosperous year, and I hope it comes easy for us all.” – Maryam Jimoh

Thank you! You, the one reading this – thank you. Your scrolling, clicking and sharing of our content make all the late nights worth it. Without your continued support, we would not be where we are today. As a final gift to us for 2021, please share this post with your friends, your family and loved ones.

We wish you all nothing but goodness in this life. May your days always be filled with goodness and good things – always. Keep learning, keep searching, keep writing and stay hydrated. XOXO -Zahraa Schroeder

Confessions of a Teenage Body Shamer #3

Kasey was nicer than I thought… she wasn’t at all how we made her out to be.

To read the previous chapter of Confessions of a Teenage Body Shamer, click here. Enjoy!

Taken by @aaronburden. Courtesy of Unsplash.com

The first thing I noticed when I walked into Kasey’s house the next day was how different her house was to mine.

The smell of homemade cookies filled my nostrils as soon as I stepped into her house. It made my mouth water and gave me a warm feeling in my stomach.

The décor itself was a complete contrast to ours; our house was decorated with a modernized style, everything in Kasey’s house screamed antique. From the furniture to the colour of the wallpaper. Now this wasn’t necessarily bad, in fact her house looked so cosy that I felt more at home in the first five minutes there than I ever had in my own house.

black and white table lamp on brown wooden table
Taken by @davexmit. Courtesy of Unsplash.com


Kasey’s mother was not at all how I expected her to be either. She was a petite lady that wore glasses with a frame that seemed too small for her face, and she was one of the kindest people I had ever met (to date). She greeted me with the most welcoming, and contagious, smile.

I followed Kasey up to her room after her mom chased us up with a batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. When I stepped into her room, I nearly did a double take seeing a poster of one of my favourite bands taped to her wall.

“You listen to The Gray?” I asked her, deeply perplexed at never having met anyone who liked their music or who even listened to them.

“Of course,” she replied, motioning for me to take a seat at her desk. “They’re one of my favourite bands. Why do you ask?”

“It’s surprising, that’s all.”

“Why? Because you didn’t think someone like me would listen to a band like them?” Kasey questions, accusingly.

“What? No, it’s not like that.” I replied, a bit flustered. She didn’t say anything in return, instead she motioned for us to start working, which we did, in an awkward silence.

We worked for about two hours before deciding to take a break. I sat back in the desk chair and replied to a text I got from Katie.

silver MacBook on gray textile
Taken by @mialiamani. Courtesy of Unsplash.com


are you at fatty k’s? She had texted me. I looked at Kasey who was eating a cookie, her attention focused on her phone screen.

Yeah. I replied. Katie’s response came no longer than a minute later.

don’t forget to dig up some dirt on her!

Not knowing how to reply, I locked my phone and looked at Kasey, who’s eating her second cookie. I pulled a grossed out face.

“Do you know how many Carbs are in one chocolate chip cookie?”

“I don’t know and I do not need to know,” she answered, matter-of-factly. She pushes the plate of cookies towards me. “But I do know that you should have one of these.”

Reluctantly, I took one and broke it in half before placing a small piece into my mouth. My eyes widened.

plate of four chocolate cookies
Taken by @picoftasty. Courtesy of Unsplash.com


“It’s good, right?” Kasey asks and I find myself nodding, while eating another piece. “See, there’s much more to life than the amount of carbs that are in one chocolate chip cookie.” She jokes and I find myself laughing…

Unknowingly, I started to let my guard down. Kasey was nicer than I thought she’d be and after only thirty minutes of talking to her I felt more comfortable around her than my own friends. She wasn’t at all how we made her out to be.

After rolling in laughter for a while I asked, “Why are you being nice to me?” A silent, yet warm, cloud fallen over us.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Personally, I think you’re really cool. And honestly speaking, I don’t think you’re truly like Katie and the others.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, I’ll let you figure that out.”

She refrained from saying anything else. That night, as I lay in my bed, her words replayed in my head and so did some of my memories with my friends.

For some reason, those few words made me question all my friendships.

To be continued…

Thanks for reading!

If you, or anyone you know, would like to join us as: email us at girlonthebusza@gmail.com or send us a message on social media!

#SHADY: What Does It Mean To Be A Mother?

What does it mean to be a mother ?

I stared at the presentation topic in confusion. I understood that they wanted to be creative with mother’s day nearing but this topic made no sense at all.

Firstly, what would we, as high school kids, know about being a mother? Secondly, how was this topic even applied to us? Lastly, with the amount of research we’ll be able to find, all of our presentations won’t last longer than one minute – maximum. With that being said, why is it even an option?

Yet, Mr Atticker gave us a week to compile research and come up with the perfect presentation for our mid-year marks. My mind was blocked, I had no idea where to begin.

My dad picked me up from school that day and I told him all about the presentation. “In your opinion, what does it mean to be a mother?” I asked. He took his time thinking about it whilst focusing on the road. After a moment, he replied, “Well, that’s easy isn’t it? Being a mother means caring for your children and being there when they need you.”

Credit: Unsplash / Annie Spratt

I thought about his answer for a long time after I got home. Was the answer really that simple? Was I overthinking the entire topic? Should his answer be the main idea of my presentation?

I don’t know.

When I came down from my room later that night, Mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, still wearing her office attire. I stood at the kitchen island watching her manage the oven, the stove and cutting up vegetables at the same time. She greeted me with a tired smile when she noticed me.

Sam, my little brother, ran to the kitchen calling for her, “Mom! I need help with my homework!”

“Just a second,” she replied before taste testing her stew on the stove. She turned to me with a sheepish smile. “Honey, you don’t mind watching the food while I help your brother do you?” I nodded and took over cutting the vegetables as she ran to help my brother. I sighed, deep in thought. I wished there was something more I could do than help my mom with the food preparations. She’s always so tired when she gets home from work, yet she still cooks and helps us with our homework without any complaints.

I was so deep in thought that I almost didn’t notice the knife cutting my finger. I winced loudly and dropped the knife, bringing my finger to my face to examine it. Mom immediately ran into the kitchen and when she saw my bloody finger, she made a face.

She hurried and got the first aid kit from the bathroom before examining my finger herself. “You should’ve been more careful,” she said and placed a plaster around my finger. “I’m sorry,” I said, but she shook her head.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. As long as it doesn’t hurt a lot,” Mom smiled at me and it suddenly hit me.

That night, after dinner, I sat at my desk and stared at the presentation topic again.

What does it mean to be a mother?

Credit: Unsplash / Jonatas Domingos

I picked up my pen and began writing.

To be a mother means being a superhero.

When our entire world turns dark they are always there for us. They are the light that helps us see again. They were there for us on our first day of school, and waited for us with a delicious lunch when we got home. They are always there when we feel like we’re on the verge of a mental breakdown, they provide the shoulder for us to cry on.

Plus, they always give the best advice and have our best interests at heart. Mothers care for us and protect us even if it means that they get hurt in the process.

Yet, we take all those things for granted.

Honestly, we will never really know the true meaning of motherhood until we experience it ourselves, and therefore we should cherish and appreciate our mothers even more. This mother’s day is the perfect day to do so.

Thanks for reading!

If you, or anyone you know, would like to join us as: email us at girlonthebusza@gmail.com or send us a message on our social media!