Yas got married a few months after Mana died. Just like me when I got married, she didn’t want to leave me, but she had no choice. Dad agreed I could go with her to Abdul’s house until her celebrations were over. Abdul’s family were nice and even though she didn’t want to marry him she knew she was better off with him than with our family!
He had two sisters and two brothers. The youngest brother Mohammed was in Germany studying, but the others were at the wedding and all of them adored Yas. Yas was a bag of nerves that day, I’d never seen her as nervous as she was when I sat with her until Abdul came to be with her. Just like I was, she was terrified of losing her virginity.
After I left her with Abdul, I sat in the other room biting my nails waiting for something bad to happen. It seemed like forever, but finally I heard the whistles from the women in the hallway and my heart started racing once I realised my sister was in the clear, the whistles meant she had bled!
I cried tears of joy when I finally got to go back into her room and see her. She was happy it was over and she could now get on with whatever she needed to do to stay safe. She told me Abdul had vowed he would do everything in his power to keep us connected not only because he loved her, but because it was a promise he had made to Mana on his death bed. Mana had made Abdul promise that no matter what happened to him he would look after me for the rest of his life.
Yas looked beautiful in her wedding dress and Abdul’s family were so proud to have her in their family. They ran around her, just like Mana’s family had done with me. Even though Abdul and Mana were cousins Mana’s family didn’t come to his wedding. They sent their best wishes and apologised, saying they didn’t feel ready to celebrate.
On the last day of the wedding I was sat with Yas and Abdul’s family in their living room when I was told I had a visitor. My heart nearly broke again when a lady walked in and lifted her veil; it was Saada. She ignored everyone and came straight to me as I got up and hugged her and immediately burst into tears. We both hugged and cried for a while, as did the rest of the women in the room. It was difficult for anyone not to cry.
Saada had lost two sons to an illness she knew nothing about and although their deaths had been years apart, the strain was obvious in her face. After we cried, Saada apologised to Yas and her mother in law Ghania for ruining their celebrations, then she sat next to me, where she held my hand kissing it over and over again. She stayed for about an hour, whispering to me that she had only come because she had heard I was at the wedding and she wanted to see me. That was the last time I ever saw her.
Before I left to go back to the village Abdul promised me that no matter what happened or wherever I ended up he would never stop me from seeing my sister. He promised me he would treat her like his queen and he would give her everything he could within his power; he promised he would never hurt her.
I believed him and although I hated the fact that I was leaving my sister with a man she didn’t love, I could see that he would do his best to make her happy. His family adored her and Yas got on well with his sister, who was around the same age as she was. I knew she was safe; Abdul had a house in the city of Sanaa where he was still studying English, Psychology and Politics. Yas wouldn’t have to do hard labour, like she would have done if she had been married in a rural village. At least she was now away from our family and the slums of our village; neither Dad nor his family would ever be able to hurt her again.
It was hell living without Yas, especially living in Dad’s house by myself, and I realised how awful it must have been for Yas whilst I was away with Mana. Farouse was in Granddad’s house and although we saw each other every day she was over there and I was at Dad’s.
Dad’s temper got worse with time by the day, and I was terrified of him so I tried to stay out of his way as much as possible. When he came home in the morning to sleep, Amina and I would tiptoe around the house, too scared to make a noise in case he woke up. If he heard us doing chores or talking he would wake up and slap, punch or throw whatever he could find at us! He became unbearable to live with. I couldn’t wait for him to wake up and leave to go to the fields just so we could get some peace and quiet.
It wasn’t long after Yas got married that I heard rumours about men asking for my hand in marriage again, and I was terrified! Farouse would tell me every time she would hear something, because these men would go to Granddad’s house to speak to him rather than Dad. Every time I saw a stranger at Granddad’s door I would wait for Farouse to let me know what was said, but as far as she could tell Granddad was waiting for someone with money!
One of those men who visited Granddad’s house was a newly arrived Yemeni from Japan. When Farouse and I first saw him we were coming back from the fields carrying water on our heads and he was sat at the door of a newly built house on the edge of the village that faced towards the fields; it was his house!
He watched as we walked by and we discussed who he could be. We hadn’t seen him before in the village and he was dressed in a suit. Not the usual wear for Yemenis! He was thin and short and not at all good looking and he had a presence about him, but not a very good one!
His name was Ahmed Bin Ahmed and when he visited Granddad’s house I held my breath, scared of what I might hear, but it wasn’t me he was interested in, it was Farouse. My heart broke when she was telling me the news but she wasn’t sad she was getting married, in fact she had been waiting for this day for a long time. She was just happy that she wasn’t being married to a man that would take her out of our village, because this way she could be close to her family for support. She was also happy that she had a brand new house that had just been built. The only thing that concerned Farouse was losing her virginity.
Since arriving in the village, we sisters had played some cruel jokes on Farouse! We were all young and naive but she was extremely naive and didn’t know anything about anything. When we arrived in the village she hadn’t even had her first period and when she did, a few months later, she had woken up with blood on her trousers and no clue to what it could be!
We had told her that her virginity had burst whilst she was asleep and she had completely freaked out! She cried for ages while Gran was in the fields and we let her cry! She had done something to piss us off the day before and we were getting our own back. Although we later explained to her what it was she never truly believed us, even after we had gone to Gran and asked her to explain to Farouse about periods. Many periods later and Farouse still somewhat believed her virginity had burst that night!
Farouse also had lots of young female friends who had told her many horrific stories about stuff that had happened to them on their wedding nights at the hands of their husbands. The cruel and inhumane ways they were forced to lose their virginity. The thought of marriage didn’t scare Farouse; she believed she would come to love her husband in time. It was just the thought of losing her virginity.
Farouse’s wedding was planned and so was Yas’s family gathering. It was decided that they would take place at the same time. As the wedding plans went ahead so much was going through my head. My heart was breaking for Farouse, knowing how scared she was, and I was worried for myself knowing that my only friend was going so I would have no one left to turn to. The only good thing to come out of this was the fact that my sister was coming back and she was staying for at least a week!
Yas arrived the first day of Farouse’s wedding. As she arrived fireworks were let off, gun shots and whistles filled the air to welcome her home. I ran to the jeep to welcome her back and couldn’t stop smiling or chatting to her as we ran upstairs! Nebat had come with her in the same jeep and although I was happy to see her too, all I wanted to do was chat to Yas. She looked OK and promised me that Abdul and his family treated her well, but she still didn’t think she could ever love him.
Whilst I tried my best to spend time with her I was now the only female in the house doing all the chores. We were at our grandparents’ house and I was being ordered about and being shouted at constant
ly by Dad and our grandparents to do everything, and found myself with little time for my sister. I could see Yas hated it as she watched me being shouted at, but she was married now and had to act in a certain way. She couldn’t do much to protect me from my troubles in the village anymore.
Farouse was taken to her husband’s house early evening; because she was married to the same village, she would spend the night with him and lose her virginity that night. We wouldn’t see her again until the next day, which would be the day she would reveal herself to the village. That night, as Yas and I sat together, we prayed that she would be ok.
The next morning we knew things were not OK when Ahmed’s mother came for Gran; the conversation didn’t sound good and then Gran went off in a hurry towards Farouse’s new home. We all sat anxiously waiting for Gran to return. Every bad thing that could go through our minds did and not knowing what had happened we dreaded the worst: that she hadn’t bled.
By the time Gran came back we were all waiting at the front door. “Where’s Farouse?” I snapped, looking behind her, but Gran quickly ushered us back inside.
“Go inside all of you! What on earth are you doing stood out here? Farouse is with her husband where she belongs!” Gran said, walking quickly upstairs. We all followed her wanting an answer, we could tell something was wrong by the way she was behaving so I nudged Nebat to encourage her to speak up; she was Gran’s favourite and best to ask!
“Is everything OK? You look worried,” she asked, putting her arm on Gran’s back. We listened on as Gran told Nebat that Farouse had refused to allow Ahmed to touch her. This was causing great concern amongst his family and they had threatened to take measures to force her if she hadn’t allowed him by the end of the celebrations.
Nebat now looked more concerned than Gran, which in turn made us worry, so we demanded an explanation. Nebat told us that she was worried that Ahmed could force Farouse into having sex with him by raping her, and that he could be as violent as he wanted because she was his wife!
We had dinner at Farouse’s husband’s house that day along with the rest of the village. We spoke to Farouse and she didn’t seem worried about not doing anything with her husband before the end of the celebrations. She told us that he was OK; she said he had told her he would wait until she was ready. She told us she hated his mum, saying she was a witch and looked at her with evil in her eyes! Maybe Ahmed wasn’t the problem, maybe it was his mother?
Farouse looked gorgeous in her wedding dress that Ahmed had brought from Japan and it fitted her beautifully. The afternoon went well and as we left she told us she was going to try and allow him to touch her again that night. The next morning we found out that when her husband tried to touch her, Farouse started screaming and wouldn’t stop.
When we went to see her that afternoon she looked scared and told us she couldn’t do it. She said she knew it would hurt because all her friends had told her so and she was scared. We tried to comfort her but we could tell that nothing we said or did could reassure her that everything would be OK. After the third day we would find out just how cruel Yemeni culture could be towards young girls who said no.
On the fourth day Al Mouzayna was brought back into Farouse’s house, accompanied by another woman most females referred to as ‘The evil witch doctor’! Together they took Farouse away in a jeep, accompanied by Ahmed and his mother. We were told they were taking Farouse to hospital to find her some medicine to help her relax a little bit because she had become hysterical every time Ahmed tried to touch her.
They returned a day later, but we weren’t allowed to see our cousin for a couple of days. When we finally saw her she looked as if she had been beaten, she was full of bruises. We hugged and cried together while she told us how she had been taken to a house where she was held down by those women and her mother-in-law. They stripped her naked, then tied her to a chair where Ahmed raped her to prove her virginity, and then he raped and beat her over and over again until she agreed never to disobey him again!
Farouse looked different; her innocence had been taken, and her spirit broken! When Ahmed’s mother came into the room offering drinks, I looked into her eyes and saw the evil that Farouse had spoken of. I tried to understand how one female could do that to another. This woman had daughters of her own! Did she not worry that the same thing could happen to them?
When we left, Yas and I spoke about how lucky we had been up until then with the men we had married. Mana was gone, but at least I wouldn’t have the fear of losing my virginity with the next man I was sold to. Yas was lucky that Abdul had been OK with her on her wedding night.
Once again we discussed our future and what we could do to ensure we stayed safe and together. Yas told me about Abdul’s younger brother Mohammed, who was due back from Germany soon and looking for a wife. She wondered if I would see him and see if there would be a connection between us. I didn’t have to think about it; straight away I said I would. Yas said she would do whatever she could to get me to Sanaa when he came back so that we could meet.
Once again we wept as we said our goodbyes, and held on to each other for as long as we could before we were pulled apart. I ran behind the jeep shouting out to her how much I already missed her. I blew her kisses as the jeep pulled away from our front door, praying that I would see her again soon.
It had been five months since Mana died when Dad called me to the room one day saying he needed to speak to me; my legs turned to jelly. I was convinced he had sold me again, but I was wrong. He had been sent word from Abdul that Yas wasn’t well and wanted me to go and look after her for a few days. I was over the moon; I loved going to the city and getting out of the village. I was sure Yas was OK; this was just her way of getting me to Sanaa!
When I got there Yas hadn’t been that well, but said she had played up that she was worse than she was just to get me there. She wanted me to meet Mohammed. Abdul had told his brother I was coming and he was expecting me, although none of the other family had any idea what was going on. We had to be careful not to be seen talking together because although we would pass each other in the hallway going in or out of rooms, we were not allowed to speak. It was difficult because Abdul’s house was small and the rooms very close to each other so we couldn’t sneak into a room and talk. However, they did have a garden full of lovely trees so one evening whilst everyone was sat inside, Mohammed and I snuck out under the trees to talk.
He was tall and slim with darker skin than his brother and not at all shy, the total opposite of Abdul! We chatted really quickly, trying to be quiet if we thought someone was coming so they wouldn’t spot us under the tree. He told me he would allow me to do whatever I wanted and treat me just as well as Abdul treated Yas. That was good enough for me, so I told him I would agree to marry him, and he said he would arrange to come and speak with Dad as soon as he could!
I stayed with Yas for a few more days and then had to go back to the village. I was skipping with joy in the knowledge that Mohammed would soon come and propose and I would soon be with my sister again.
The day after I got back I heard the devastating news that would change my life forever! Mohammed was too late; there was nothing he or I could do to change anything. Dad had sold me to the son of one of the wealthiest men in the Yemen.
Chapter Twelve
The Wealthy “Muhamasheen”
His name was Ziad Nasser and he was 18 years old. He lived in one of the nearby villages with his extended family and he was coming to see me the next day. Dad sat me down with my grandparents when he told me. I felt as though he had punched me in the stomach!
I knew as soon as he started to talk that there was nothing I could do about it. Dad told me he had turned down another man that same day that was also rich but was known to marry and abandon his young wives after a while. Dad went on to tell me he had refused many men since Mana died, because he was waiting for the right one. He said Ziad was different because he was wealthy and came from an influential family with status and power!
My grandparents kept saying I should feel grateful to be marrying into such a family. Ziad hadn’t been married before and usually young men like him only married virgins, but Ziad was adamant he wanted me.
I didn’t argue or even talk. After seeing what had happened to Farouse I knew I couldn’t win, no matter how much I argued. After they had finished describing what was going to happen to me I left them and carried on with my chores, waiting for the next day. The following day Ziad and his father came for dinner at Granddad’s house.
Farouse was with me at Dad’s house; she and Amina were peeping out the window trying to get a look at Ziad. I was sat next to them in the room and they had the window slightly open and were taking it in turns to peep out so they wouldn’t get caught looking. Although I wanted to know what he looked like I felt drained, cut off from all my emotions. I could hear them as they whispered to each other and it didn’t sound good and then Farouse suddenly turned to me.
“I really think you need to see this,” she said, pulling me up because I didn’t want move. “I mean it, quick before he goes in!”
When I looked at Ziad I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. He was tall, athletic and very smartly dressed. His shoes were shiny considering he had been walking on dirty dusty roads. He had on black suit trousers that looked like they had just been ironed and his white shirt looked brand new, with the sleeves slightly folded up. He also kept patting down his afro hair that was cut very short.
“What am I looking for?” I asked, confused.
“He’s black!” Farouse gasped.
Not knowing what was wrong with his colour, I had to ask. “What’s wrong with black? Most Yemenis are black!”
A Father's Betrayal Page 20