Page 214 - A Woman Is No Man

“They said no,” Fareeda said when she’d hung up the phone. “No. Just
like that.”
Sarah looked up from a copy of The Handmaid’s Tale. “Oh,” she said,

before flipping the page. Isra felt her heart thumping wildly against her
nightgown.
“But why would she say no?” Fareeda looked hard into Sarah’s eyes.
“You said your conversation with the boy went well.”
“I don’t know, Mama. Maybe he didn’t like me. Just because you have a
decent conversation with someone, that doesn’t mean you should
necessarily marry them.”

“There you go again with your smart remarks.” Fareeda’s eyes were
bulging. She snatched the book from Sarah’s fingers, flung it across the
room. “Just wait!” she said, turning to leave. “Just wait until I find a man to
take you off my shoulders. Wallahi, I don’t care if he’s old and fat. I’m
giving you away to the first man who agrees to take you!”
Isra turned to Sarah, expecting to find her caved into the sofa, but her

friend had sprung gracefully to her feet and was scanning the floor for her
book. Catching Isra’s eyes, she said, “There is nothing in the world I hate
more than that woman.”
“Shhh,” Isra said. “She’ll hear you.”
“Let her.”

When she’d finished brewing a kettle of chai to calm Fareeda’s nerves, Isra
retreated downstairs to read. Beside her, Deya scribbled in a coloring book.
Nora and Layla played with Legos. Amal slept in her crib. Watching them

as they scattered across the room, glancing over to her every now and then,
Isra felt a jolt of helplessness deep within her. She had to do something,
anything, to help her daughters.
“Mama,” Deya said. Isra smiled. Inside she wanted to scream. “My
teacher said we have to read this for homework.” Deya handed Isra a Dr.
Seuss book. Isra took the book from her hands and signaled for her to sit.

As she read, she could see Deya’s eyes widen in curiosity and excitement.
She reached out and stroked her daughter’s face. Nora and Layla listened
with half an ear each, building a bridge of Legos around her. Amal slept
peacefully.
“I love when you read to me,” Deya said when Isra had finished.
“You do?”