I saw what happened to my sister; it was something I will never forget. I also saw what kind of man she was given to and I was terrified this would happen to me. I’d watched young girls over the last few months and seen how their behaviour changed after their wedding nights. I’d seen the abuse they suffered. Although many of them didn’t tell us in full detail what their husbands did to them, I could see how they would lose their young lively spark they had before they were married. These were very young girls, some younger than my sister and I.
Even with our very childish ways and rebellious antics that we still carried with us from back home, we knew these would be beaten out of us sooner or later if we got given to the wrong man. I would do anything I could to hang on to my love for life.
I questioned Mana on how he would treat me if I agreed to marry him. I could feel he was a kind and gentle person and I felt as though I could trust him not to hurt me, but I needed to hear him say it. He told me it would be an honour to marry me and that he would always treat me as his queen. He was worried because his family were not from a wealthy background and he didn’t think my father would accept him as my husband, but I told him if he truly loved me then he would at least try. Mana promised he would ask my father if he could meet him the next day, and ask for my hand in marriage.
The next day I was beside myself with worry; if Dad said no then my life would seem worthless because Mana was my only hope of happiness. I watched Mana as he set off for the fields to speak with Dad and paced around the house until I saw him come back.
“I’m meeting him this afternoon,” he whispered as he walked past the window.
Dad came home for dinner and was in a good mood as he told us to clean the guest room because he was expecting guests! He watched me run around helping the others get things ready for our guests and I could see him giving me the odd glance here and there; I was sure he had a feeling that I knew something.
If this was any other man coming to ask for my hand in marriage I would have been terrified, but I wasn’t. Although anxious things wouldn’t go well if Dad found out Mana’s family were not rich, I was more excited than scared!
Amina had no clue why Mana was coming because Dad hadn’t told us anything, so my sister and I played along as though we were also clueless, and when they turned up we pretended to be shocked to discover it was them! Dad sent us all to the kitchen while he escorted them into the room, but we were all peeping from behind the stairs, which included Amina! She was just as childish and stupid as we were sometimes, she would have Yas and me in stitches with some of the stuff she came out with!
After he escorted them into the room Dad closed the door behind him but not before he glanced upstairs and caught us in the act! Surprisingly he had a grin on his face as he continued to shut the door behind him! Not one to miss out on gossip, Amina suggested we go and listen to what they were talking about, and with that we all snuck downstairs and quietly stuck our ears up against the room door.
We were there for a while trying our hardest to hear what was being said but all we could hear was mumbling voices, then all of a sudden we heard footsteps right next to the door! Yas and I darted for the stairs while Amina just stayed at her position until the door opened, then once she got caught in the act she pretended to be searching on the ground for something! We were only half way up the stairs when Dad opened the door
“Get back here young lady!” Dad called out to me, stopping me in my tracks. “And you can stop pretending, get up and get out of here!” he told Amina, who immediately ran off. I grabbed Yas’s hand as we both walked back down towards Dad; he had a smile on his face.
“What are you two up to?” he asked, tilting his head as if to suss me out. I hadn’t seen Dad like this in a very long time.
“Nothing, are we Yas?” I said, nudging her, but she just stood there shaking her head.
“Anyway, I have a young man in there who has asked for your hand in marriage, it’s one of the teachers, his name is Mana, do you know him?” he asked looking curious.
“No, well, I mean I’ve seen him around, but I don’t know him!” My voice was shaky and I’m sure Dad knew I was lying from my face.
“Well he’s waiting for an answer, should I say yes?” I quickly nodded my head up and down; Dad’s face broke out into a huge smile as he gave me a big hug and disappeared back into the room. Yas and I ran back upstairs giggling away while we told Amina the news and then we ran over to Farouse and told her!
A few days later Mana went back to his home town to bring his father to our village to officially ask my father and grandfather for my hand in marriage. Waiting for Mana to return was an anxious time for me. I was praying that he would come back with his father’s blessing, but my heart was breaking at the thought of parting with my sister.
If I was to marry him then I would have a slight chance of happiness for myself, but my sister would still be awaiting her fate of being sold to the highest bidder. I was torn between staying with my sister and taking my chance with Mana.
Yas and I had talked about this many times and she was adamant that I needed to take my chance of happiness. She knew that one day we might both be sold to separate villages and torn apart, so if one of us could go willingly and be happy then we should go. I knew that my sister was stronger now, that even though she had once attempted to take her own life, she would never try it again. When Issy committed suicide it left us both with a pain in our hearts from losing her that only another sister could feel; it was because of this pain, and because we loved each other so much, that we could never inflict that pain on each other again.
Chapter Eight
It’s Yas, She’s Dead!
Uncle Nasser came back while Mana was away; it felt like he had just left. His wounds had healed well and he was his normal drunken self, only this time he had brought his two sons with him. Farouse’s younger brothers had been living with their mother, but now he wanted them to live at Granddad’s house. By the tone of the conversation that went on between him and our grandparents, it didn’t sound like Uncle Nasser had talked it through with them beforehand, or that they were happy about it! But in the end they gave in and accepted them into the family home.
They were called Anwar and Ehab. Anwar was small for his nine years of age; he was cute and childish with curly hair, while Ehab was taller at eleven years old and more grown up. Uncle Nasser spoilt his sons and expected everyone to treat them just as the grown men were treated, and that was to be waited on hand and foot.
I hated having to tend to Uncle Nasser and he would always wind me up to get a reaction from me. Sometimes the reaction, for everyone else watching, would be funny, even if I wasn’t laughing myself, and I’d walk away to keep the peace. But most times I’d snap back and it would end up in disaster!
It was when Amina was away at her family home, and Yas and I were sent to stay at our grandparents for the night that all hell broke loose! Amina had gone to her family home for her after-wedding celebrations; this was something that the bride did a few weeks or months after the wedding. There was no time limit on when she would go back; it would just depend on how busy both households would be around fitting in the feast. When she went back home, there would be a big feast at the family home to celebrate the fact that her wedding had gone well. Amina would be gone a few days and in the meantime our grandparents had also gone away for the night to visit Gran’s brother, who had snuck into a village nearby.
That day Yas and Farouse were upstairs with Uncle Nasser and his boys while I was in the kitchen doing something. I could hear them calling me but I tried to ignore them because I could hear them laughing and I knew they were making fun of me. In the end I went upstairs and saw all of them sat looking shifty, with Anwar lying down covered in a blanket. Anwar hadn’t been well that day and hadn’t eaten much and they all knew I had a soft spot for him.
“Anwar wants you to make him something to eat, don’t you son?” Uncle Nasser said to me whilst looking at Anwar.
Uncle Nasser had been drinking, and because our grandparents were away he didn’t even bother to hide the bottle; it was on the floor right in front of him. Anwar nodded his head at me.
“Is it for you or him?” I asked my uncle.
“No, it’s for him, I promise,” my uncle said with a smug look on his face. Anwar told me he wanted boiled potatoes and chillies, and although I didn’t want to make it I couldn’t say no to Anwar. I went down to the kitchen and started the small fire.
We always had boiling water because we buried lots of pots between the burning coal in the oven after cooking dinner and it kept the water boiling most of the day, so it took me about 20 minutes. Once I finished I took the plate of boiled potatoes and chillies upstairs and handed it to Anwar, who was by this time sat up in bed. Uncle Nasser had a big smile on his face as his son took the plate out of my hand and handed it straight to him!
Everyone started laughing, because they could see my face turning red with anger as my Uncle dipped a potato in chili and shoved it in his mouth! I reached out and tried to grab the plate from him.
“If you want some food get your own bloody daughter to cook for you! This is for Anwar!”
I couldn’t hide the hatred I had for him as I spoke. It had become impossible for me to control the way I hated him, or the way I reacted when I was around him, but sometimes I’d wish I had! I grabbed the plate and we started tugging at it as he held it up away from me.
“Ah come on Muna, I’m hungry, let it go,” he smirked, pulling the plate away from me.
I tried to pull it back off him but he was stronger than I was and I ended up losing. He looked at me with the plate in his hand, his eyes telling me he could do as he pleased, and then he laughed as he looked at his sons, then back at me!
The atmosphere in the room had begun to change and I could feel that everyone was feeling tense. He then dropped the plate on the floor and started stomping up and down on it, twirling around mashing the potatoes with his feet, pretending to dance with his arm in the air and trying to make everyone laugh, while singing some stupid song, but no one was laughing.
They could see my eyes filling up with tears. “I hate you!” I screamed in his face. “You’re nothing but a lowlife bully and when Granddad comes back I’m going to tell him you’re a drunk and you’ve been sat here drinking all day!”
Uncle Nasser had heard enough. Who was I to talk to him and threaten him in this manner? He turned around, turning his back to me, and then he swung his bad arm as he came back around to face me, but he swung with such force it caught me on the side of my head and flung me across the room!
They were all sat in the small room, but I had been flung out into the adjoining room. I felt dazed and the fear of what was happening finally hit me!
I heard Yas scream and I looked up to see her launch herself at our uncle. “You bastard,” she screamed, “Leave my sister alone,” but she didn’t get very far.
He punched her in her face and she too ended up on the floor next to me. I looked over at Yas as she fell, and when I saw blood on her face any fear I had of being hurt by this man left my body. I got up and went to attack him, my hands waving out in front of me as I ran towards him, but I was still dazed from his last hit and he was much bigger and stronger than me. He swung at me again and punched me with such force I felt blinded as I hit the floor, blood pouring from my nose.
I could hear our cousins in the background crying and cowering in fear. I didn’t for one moment blame them for not coming to our rescue, they knew only too well the repercussions for anyone that tried to help another when they were being punished, and we were about to find this out!
Once again Yas got up, blood dripping from her mouth as she ran at Uncle Nasser; cursing him for laying a finger on me and thinking he could get away with it! Telling him how he would live to regret it.
Uncle Nasser picked up his rifle that had been resting against the wall besides him where he had earlier been sitting. As I lay injured on the floor, I looked up and saw him pick up the gun, my body froze in fear but I could hear myself scream. All I could do was watch as he lifted the gun and pulled it back over his shoulder, and then he brought it back with all his force and hit Yas in the face with the butt of the gun, sending her crashing to the floor!
I crawled over to where she was lying as our uncle went back into the room and closed the door on him and his children. Yas was lifeless; I tried in vain to get a reaction from her as I shook her, screaming and begging for help from anyone who could hear me. I could hear him in the room ordering Farouse to stay where she was as I continued to cradle Yas in my arms. Her face was covered in blood and I didn’t know what to do!
The next thing I remember I was running out of the house towards the fields. I could hear myself breathing heavier and faster, my heart was telling me to go back and be with my sister but my legs were taking me to Dad. A voice inside my head kept telling me over and over again, “Dad will know what to do; Dad will know what to do.”
I didn’t stop running until I got to the fields. It was dark but it was a full moon so I could see around and my glance quickly darted from one field to the other looking for Dad. I knew Dad would be walking around at this time making sure everything was secure. I could taste blood in my throat as I screamed for him.
“Daaaad, Daaad!” I shouted repeatedly until he appeared. He saw me and hurried over, a look of utter worry and shock on his face when he saw my face covered in blood.
He was shaking me asking me what was wrong but I was in shock, I was crying and couldn’t get my words out.
“Yas, Uncle Nasser, she’s dead!”
Dad started running towards the house, yelling at me to keep up with him and tell him what had happened, but when I tried he didn’t want to know about his brother drinking, only what Yas and I had done wrong. He then tried to reassure me that Yas was fine and was most probable just ‘knocked out’.
When we got closer to the village I started to get more and more hysterical, telling Dad that Yas was covered in blood and that she was just lying there not responding to me. Dad stopped and looked at me.
“If she’s not dead, I’m going to kill you for putting me through this!” He said, huffing and puffing out of breath.
He looked fed up, as if he had had enough of us! Dad banged on the front door when he got to it and I noticed someone had been down and locked it after I’d left. I’d stopped crying at this point and what Dad had said to me earlier had started to play on my mind.
I was stood at the door praying silently. “Please God let my sister be OK! Please God.” But a nagging voice in the back of my head would say, “What if Yas was OK and she had only been knocked out? Dad was going to kill me if Yas was fine!”
I started to shake my head, frustrated with myself for thinking so stupidly! Of course I wanted my sister to be OK, but couldn’t she at least be injured so that Dad wouldn’t beat the crap out of me?
All these stupid thoughts were going through my head when the door started to open slowly. Dad started yelling at whoever was stood behind the door holding the candle, asking them why it took so long to open the door. When all of a sudden my eyes adjusted to the candle light, and at the same time so did Dad’s. We both saw Yas holding the candle! I instantly jumped out of Dad’s way, ducking and diving, waiting for him to lash out at me.
“I swear to God, Dad, she was dead! I swear it! Yas please tell him, weren’t you dead?”
I begged my sister to back me up, but she just stood there and quietly let out a little giggle at how stupid I sounded, asking her to tell Dad she had come back from the dead.
“I’m OK Moo, a few bruises but nothing serious,” she reassured me.
“But Dad, honest, I swear to you she was dead! I tried to wake her up and she wasn’t breathing!”
My legs started to shake like they always did when I thought I was in for a beating, but luckily Dad was in no mood to deal with me that night. He walked over to Yas and looked at her face under the
candle light but said nothing, and then he turned around, wagging his finger rigorously in my direction and shaking his head in disappointment as he let out a big sigh.
“Huhhh, I will deal with you tomorrow.” He sounded more fed up than angry as he walked off back to the fields.
Dad didn’t go upstairs or ask if we were OK, he never spoke to his brother about his behaviour, but then why would he? His family were permitted to treat us and do with us as they pleased, why else would our uncle behave this way towards us?
Our Uncle left the village the next night, but before that our grandparents had come back and heard all about the night before, minus the fact that Uncle Nasser had been drinking. Of course Yas and I got blamed for everything and got cursed, but spared any physical punishment.
That day our Grandparents came to a decision that from now on Uncle Nasser would not stay in their house when he came into the village. It was decided that Granddad’s other house, that was about seven doors up from the one he lived in and empty, would be cleaned out and kept for him when he came into the village. Granddad thought that Uncle Nasser’s visits were bringing too much attention to his house and he was worried something would happen. Another reason was they had just come back from a visit with Gran’s brother who was a leader in the guerrilla group, he had told her they were going to be attending meetings in the village and needed a house to meet up in.
The day after Uncle Nasser left, Gran told us to go and clean the new house. She would be at the fields all morning so we had lots to do in both houses. As we were getting things together Farouse ran downstairs to get her father’s alcohol from his hiding place in the stables. She had been given instructions by her father to take the drink and hide it in the new house.
We were all in the middle landing debating what to do with the alcohol because we were fed up with his drinking. Farouse said we should just replace it with water. Yas and I laughed at her; she never was very smart! I was up for replacing it with pee, which would teach him for messing with us! Then Yas said she wanted to get drunk and see what our grandparents did when they came home and found her drunk! She said it wasn’t fair that men were allowed to do whatever they wanted but girls were kept on a tight leash.
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