Page 140 - A Woman Is No Man
P. 140
“Maybe you can go around proposing to any girl you want,” she said.
“But I don’t see any choice here for me.”
“But there is! You can choose to say no until you meet the right person.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not a choice.”
“That depends on how you look at it.”
“No matter how I look at it, I’m still being forced to get married. Just
because I’m offered options, that doesn’t mean I have a choice. Don’t you
see?” She shook her head. “A real choice doesn’t have conditions. A real
choice is free.”
“Maybe,” Nasser said. “But sometimes you have to make the best of
things. Take life as it comes, accept things as they are.”
Deya exhaled, a wave of self-doubt washing over her. She didn’t want
to accept things as they were. She wanted to be in control of her own life,
decide her own future for a change.
“So, should I tell them yes?” Fareeda asked Deya after Nasser left. She was
standing in the kitchen doorway, a cup of kahwa to her lips.
“I need more time,” Deya said.
“Shouldn’t you at least know if you like him by now?”
“I barely know him, Teta.”
Fareeda sighed. “Have I ever told you the story of how I met your
grandfather?” Deya shook her head. “Come, come. Let me tell you.”
Fareeda proceeded to tell her the story of her wedding night, nearly fifty
years before, in the al-Am’ari refugee camp. She had just turned fourteen.
“My sister Huda and I were both getting married that day,” Fareeda
said. “To brothers. I remember sitting inside our shelter, our palms henna-
stained, our eyes smeared with kohl, while Mama wrapped our hair with
hairpins she had borrowed from a neighbor. It was only after we’d signed
the marriage contracts that we saw our husbands for the first time! Huda
and I were so nervous as Mama led us to them. The first brother was tall
and thin, with small eyes and a freckled face; the second was tan, with
broad shoulders and cinnamon hair. The second brother smiled. He had a
beautiful row of white teeth, and I remember secretly hoping he was my
husband. But Mama led me by the elbow to the first man and whispered:
‘This man is your home now.’”
“But that was a million years ago,” Deya said. “Just because it
happened to you doesn’t mean it should happen to me.”