Insiya and the R'gime

Mujeeb Jaihoon’s chilling story of a young girl in a dystopian future where the authoritarian regime has replaced authentic human experience.

The quiet hum of the RoboMom’s internal fans was the only sound in Insiya’s room. At precisely 5:00 a.m., the metallic hand gently nudged her shoulder. “Good morning, Insiya. Coffee is ready.” Its voice was perfectly warm, but it felt like a cold, smooth rock in her hand. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall the raw, slightly off-key sound of her mom’s real voice before the accident. Instead of a loving hand, a cool, sanitized toothbrush was placed in her palm.

Outside, the air was crisp, but the world was sterile. The self-driven school bus, sleek and silent, pulled up to her curb. The Auntroid, a featureless silver automaton with glowing blue eyes, greeted her. It was a perfect attendant—never tired, never late, always polite. But she missed the gentle, creaking voice of Ms. Lina, the elderly ‘aaya’ who used to help her climb to the bus, her hand wrinkled and warm. Firm and cold, the Auntroid’s grip scanned her face for her student ID, then led her across the street, its mechanical hand waving for other vehicles to stop in perfect synchronization.

Once inside the bus, she looked outside the window. She saw her friend, Zara, boarding her school bus escorted by her human aaya, Ms. Kenji, a kind-faced woman with a faint scar above her eyebrow. Zara’s family was one of the few who could still afford human services, a status symbol of a bygone era. Until last year, Insiya had a human attendant too, a luxury her family could barely manage. But when their school was acquired by Smart Holdings, humanoids became the standard, a directive from the R’gime’s Department of eDUCATION to ‘streamline’ and ‘optimize.’ The shift felt less like an upgrade and more like an eviction from the human world.

Her history teacher, Miss Anya, had only two weeks left before she was replaced by a ‘Teacheroid.’ Miss Anya’s lessons were pure chaos, in a good way. She’d get super hyped about stuff, telling wild stories that went everywhere, and her hands would fly around as she talked. The Teacheroid, Insiya knew, would be perfectly efficient, totally emotionless. Just data.

During break, Anya, her classmate, showed her something she’d smuggled in: a pencil. It was an ordinary wooden pencil, worn at the eraser, a relic from her brother’s secret ‘antiques’ collection. Insiya touched the smooth wood, its grain a stark contrast to the plastic and metal that made up their world. The school had recently announced a ban on all wooden objects.

“Did you see the new episode of Synapse?” Anya asked, her fingers flying across her datapad. “I’m still trying to figure out if it was a human or an AI that wrote the last scene.”

“I heard it was an AI,” Insiya replied, her mind elsewhere. “It’s getting hard to tell.”

Sitting on a bench in the campus courtyard, Insiya stared at the new restaurant ad on her datapad. She rubbed her neck, stiff from staring at the screen.

“Hey, when was the last time you went to a human-served restaurant?” Insiya asked Anya, not looking up.

Anya’s voice was a little too casual when she replied, “Last month, for my aunt’s birthday. It was great.” She paused, a hint of excitement creeping in. “We even rode in a human taxi afterward. It was so weird, but also kind of magical. The driver talked to us the whole way. He even smiled at us when we got out.”

A wave of longing she couldn’t even name hit her. A human smile. A simple conversation. The luxury of the imperfect.

A drone descended, delivering her GM-burger to her hand. As she bit into the perfectly tasteless synthetic slice, her mind wandered. What would it be like to be human again? She just sighed, a simple, un-monitored breath.

The thought hadn’t even finished when a sharp, high-pitched alarm pulsed from the neuro-chip in her wrist. The chip, designed to ‘enhance cognitive function,’ had instantly broadcast her thought-pulse to the ubiquitous data centers. The display on her wrist glowed red. THREAT DETECTED. A potential threat against the R’gime. For a brief, terrifying moment, Insiya felt utterly alone, a single, flawed human thought trapped in a perfect, mechanical world.

Suddenly, a chime rang from her datapad. The break was over.