Page 269 - A Woman Is No Man

Deya

Fall 2009

Deya stands on the corner of Seventy-Third Street, in front of the Brooklyn

Public Library. Her hair dances in the fall breeze, and she scans the stash of
syllabi in her hands. Required reading: The Yellow Wallpaper. The Bell Jar.
Beloved. She thinks of Fareeda, the look on her face when Deya received
her acceptance letter and scholarship from New York University. She had
put off telling her in case she hadn’t gotten in, despite Sarah’s insistence.
There was no point in bringing up the matter if she didn’t even get an offer.
But then she’d had no more excuses. She’d found Fareeda seated at the

kitchen table, a cup of chai in hand.
“I got accepted into a college in Manhattan,” Deya had told her, keeping
her voice steady. “I’m going.”
“Manhattan?” She could see fear in Fareeda’s eyes.
“I know you’re worried about me out there, but I’ve navigated the city
on my own every time I’ve visited Sarah. I promise to come home straight

after class. You can trust me. You need to trust me.”
Fareeda eyed her. “What about marriage?”
“Marriage can wait. After everything I know now, do you think I’m just
going to sit here and let you marry me off? Nothing you say will change my
mind.” Fareeda started to object, but Deya cut her off. “If you don’t let me
go, then I’ll leave. I’ll take my sisters and go.”
“No!”

“Then don’t stand in my way,” Deya said. “Let me go.” When Fareeda
said nothing, she added, “Do you know what Sarah told me the last time I
saw her?”
“What?” Fareeda whispered. She still had not seen her grown daughter.
“She told me to learn. She said this was the only way to make my own

naseeb.”
“But, daughter, we don’t control our naseeb. Our destiny comes for us.
That’s what naseeb means.”