A Woman Is No Man - Etaf Rum Page 0,90
sighed. Once she’d realized that Aladdin was adapted from A Thousand and One Nights, she’d gathered her daughters in front of the television, a bowl of popcorn between them, and watched all the Disney movies they owned, longing to find more moments of connection that brought her back to her childhood. Maybe she would find the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, or the Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, or even, if she was particularly lucky, the Lovers of Bassorah. She had popped each movie in the cassette player, giddy with excitement, only to be disappointed. Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel—none of those characters were in the stories she’d read growing up. Disappointed, she had turned off the television and ignored it ever since.
“But I want to see the princesses,” Deya said.
“We’ve seen enough princesses.”
The princesses irritated her now. Those Disney movies, with their love stories and fairy-tale endings—how could they be a good influence on her daughters? What would her daughters think, Isra wondered, watching these women fall in love? Would they grow up believing these fairy tales were reality, that love and romance existed for girls like them? That one day men would come and save them? Isra could feel her chest tighten. She wanted to go into the sala and shred the cassettes, ripping the film from each piece of plastic casing until they no longer played. But she feared what Adam would say if he found out, the violent look in his eyes, the questions, a slap awaiting, and her without an answer. What could she say? That her books had finally taught her the truth: love was not something a man could give you, and she didn’t want her daughters thinking it was? That she couldn’t let her daughters grow up hoping a man would save them? She knew she had to teach them how to love themselves, that this was the only way they had a chance at happiness. Only she didn’t see how she could when the world pressed shame into women like pillows into their faces. She wanted to save her daughters from her fate, but she couldn’t seem to find a way out.
“Will you read to me?” Deya asked, looking at her with soft, wide eyes, her fingers clenched around her nightgown.
“Sure,” Isra said.
“Now?”
“I have to make dinner first.”
“But then you’re coming?”
“Then I’m coming.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.” She let go of Isra’s nightgown, turned to leave.
“Wait,” Isra said.
“What, Mama?”
“You know I love you, right?”
Deya smiled.
“I love you very much.”
Deya
Winter 2008
Deya met Nora in their bedroom. She shut the door, locked it, and asked Nora to sit down. She handed her the newspaper clipping. Then she told her everything. For a long time after, they wept in each other’s arms.
“I just can’t believe it,” Nora said, staring down at the newspaper clipping. “Should we tell Layla and Amal?”
“Not yet,” Deya said. “First I have to confront Teta.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to make her tell me everything.”
“Then what?”
“Then we come up with a plan.”
“What kind of plan?” asked Nora.
“A plan to run away.”
Isra
Winter 1996
One Saturday morning, after Isra and Sarah had washed the morning dishes and retreated to the kitchen table with a steaming ibrik of chai, Fareeda entered the kitchen. “Pour me a cup,” she said.
At once, Isra grabbed a teacup from the cabinet. She had become so accustomed to following Fareeda’s demands that her body obeyed unthinkingly. As Isra presented the chai to her, Fareeda turned to Sarah. “Today is your lucky day,” she said.
“And why’s that?” Sarah asked.
“Because”—Fareeda paused, running her finger around the rim of her teacup—“I’ve found you a suitor.”
Isra felt something drain from her. She tried to keep from dropping her tea. How could she carry on without Sarah’s friendship? Without her books?
“Are you serious?” Sarah said, sinking into her chair.
“Of course I’m serious! He’ll be here this afternoon.”
“Who is he?”
“Umm Ali’s youngest son, Nader.” Fareeda’s smile was triumphant. “He was at the pharmacy last month. I pointed him out to you, remember?”
“No,” Sarah said. “Not that it makes a difference. I don’t know him.”
“Oh, don’t be so negative. You’ll get to know him soon enough.”
“Whatever.”
“Roll your eyes all you want,” Fareeda said. “But marriage is the single most important part of a woman’s life, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Can you believe the woman?” Sarah asked Isra when Fareeda had left the kitchen. She stared out the window, her brown eyes watering against the light.
“I’m so sorry,” Isra managed