Page 141 - A Woman Is No Man

“It’s not happening to you!” Fareeda said. “You’ve already said no to
several men, and you’ve sat with Nasser twice! No one is telling you to
marry him tomorrow. Sit with him a few more times and get to know him.”

“So, sitting with him five times will make me know him?”
“No one really knows anyone, daughter. Even after a lifetime.”
“Which is why this is so ridiculous.”
“Well, this ridiculousness is how it’s been done for centuries.”
“Maybe that’s why everyone is so miserable.”
“Miserable?” Fareeda waved her hands in the air. “You think your life is
miserable? Unbelievable.” Deya took a step back, knowing what was

coming. “You’ve never seen miserable. I was only six years old when my
family relocated to the refugee camp, settling in a corner tent with a single
room, as far as we could get from the open sewage, the rotting corpses on
the dirt road. You wouldn’t believe how dirty I always was—hair
uncombed, clothes soiled, feet as black as coal. I used to see young boys
kicking a ball around the sewage or riding bikes on the dirt roads and wish I

could run along with them. But even as a child, I knew my place. I knew
my mother needed help, squatting in front of a bucket, washing clothes in
whatever water we could find. Even though I was only a child, I knew I was
a woman first.”
“But that was a long time ago in Palestine,” Deya said. “We live in
America now. Isn’t that why you came here? For a better life? Well, why
can’t that mean a better life for us, too?”

“We didn’t come here so our daughters could become Americans,”
Fareeda said. “Besides, American women get married, too, you know. If not
at your age, then soon enough. Marriage is what women do.”
“But it’s not fair!”
Fareeda sighed. “I never said it was, daughter.” Her voice was soft, and
she reached out to touch Deya’s shoulder. “But this country is not safe for

girls like you. I only want your protection. If you’re afraid to rush into
marriage, that’s fine. I understand. You can sit with Nasser as often as you’d
like if it makes you feel better. Would that help?”
As if sitting with a stranger a few more times could help alleviate the
uncertainty she felt about everything in the wake of her grandparents’ lies.
But at least she’d bought herself more time to figure out what to do. “I
guess.”

“Good,” Fareeda said. “But promise me one thing.”