by Asen Djinah
‘I want to report a woman for adultery,’ he blurted out to the group of men, breathless from his long walk.
The men were startled and did not immediately comprehend what the old man was saying.
‘What is the matter, grandfather?’ one of them asked.
‘I want to report a woman for adultery,’ Fadel repeated.
The men were stunned. Such an allegation was serious. Looking at the shabby vagrant, Imam Yasir intervened.
‘Do you realise, venerable old man, that the punishment for wrongful accusation is one hundred lashes?’
Fadel was hysterical.
‘Why don’t you believe me? I just saw it with my own eyes,’ he cried out in a high-pitched voice.
‘Grandfather, why don’t you sit down and tell us everything from the beginning,’ Imam Yasir said in a gentle voice, seeing that the old man was getting agitated.
Fadel told them how, tired from his long walk into town, he had stopped to rest at the oasis and fell asleep. Obviously he made no mention of his intoxicated state. He then went on to describe what he had seen.
The details he gave must have been enough to convince the men, for Imam Yasir promptly gave instructions to alert the chief guard who lived in one of the buildings behind the mosque. Very quickly a team of two male guards and a female chaperone was assembled and followed Fadel to the house.
Chapter 4
The moment Amel closed the door behind her, she collapsed on the rug. With her ordeal finally over and in the safety of her home, she let herself go and sobbed uncontrollably. She pulled up her knees and curled up into the foetal position, broken and shattered. In one evening, her whole life had been turned upside down.
‘How could this happen to me?’ she lamented.
She blamed herself for going out in the dark.
‘If only I had waited till morning!’ she thought, full of remorse.
‘What am I going to tell Hayder?’
Amel still could not believe what had happened to her. It had all seemed so unreal that she wondered whether it was a bad dream. The stench of sweat and tobacco unexpectedly crept into her memory and it was as though she could actually smell it. The sheer horror of that dreadful moment came back to her. Feelings of guilt and shame raced through her mind as she lay exhausted on her rug and eventually she lost track of time.
Suddenly Amel felt the need to wash the shame off her. She forced herself to get up and went out to the washing area in the enclosed courtyard. Afterwards, she felt more composed and headed back inside to get out of her sullied clothes. Just as she stepped indoors, she heard pounding on the courtyard door. Her heart jumped.
‘Has the man followed me home?’ was the first thought that sprang to her mind.
‘Sayyida – Madam, open the door please,’ a woman called out.
Amel was relieved at the sound of the female voice. But when she unlocked the courtyard door it was the sight of the two male guards that caught her attention. Like all religious guards, they were easily recognisable from their familiar white long robe with blue waistbands and turbans. They wore the usual leather belt from which their long sword hung.
‘Sayyida, you need to come with us,’ the woman guard dressed in a black abaya said.
Amel was puzzled.
‘Why? What is happening?’ she asked, her heart pounding furiously.
‘Sayyida, you must come with us to the mosque at once. Imam Yasir will explain everything,’ the woman said in a firmer voice.
‘Are those the clothes that you were wearing today?’ she then asked.
When Amel nodded affirmatively, the woman continued, ‘You need to bring a change of clothes with you.’
‘But I have to be here at home. My husband is coming back tomorrow and I have a lot to do,’ Amel protested.
‘You will explain to Imam Yasir, sayyida. Our orders are to bring you in. Please hurry,’ she added with finality.
Amel wished that Hayder was here. He always knew what to do in these situations.
‘What if I refuse to go with them?’ she wondered briefly.
‘I will come to the mosque tomorrow with my husband,’ she tried one last time.
‘If you don’t come now, we have orders to take you by force to the mosque. Sayyida, I would like to avoid that. As you can see, the commotion has already attracted the neighbours in the street. It is up to you if you want to avoid a scandal,’ the female guard replied.
Amel realised it was futile to resist or get more information from the guard.
‘Maybe they have arrested the man and they need me to identify him,’ she wondered.
She shuddered at the idea of facing her aggressor once again. Resigned, she quickly gathered a change of clothes in a bundle.
The two male guards had not uttered a single word during the whole encounter. As Amel followed them, she saw that her neighbours had gathered outside and were trying to see what was happening through the open courtyard door. Although her face was hidden under the niqab, Amel still looked down as she walked out onto the track. It was only then that she noticed a harmless old man standing some distance behind the guards. Seeing Amel looking at him, Fadel made a sheepish grin and scratched his matted hair. As the group made their way to the mosque, he followed behind at a distance.
Chapter 5
Hayder always felt excited and impatient to return home after a business trip, but this time he was even more eager than usual. He wanted so badly to hold his dear Amel in his arms. His heart swelled and ached at the thought of how much he had missed her the past three weeks. When he saw the row of houses in the distance he felt like running, unable to contain his excitement. The memory of his last evening before he left for his travel came to his mind and he smiled.
‘I will have to start eating for two now,’ Amel had said with a twinkle in her eyes, before staring at him to see his reaction.
For a couple of seconds, Hayder’s face had shown total bewilderment but as the words sank in, his expression changed to joy. Realising that his darling wife had just announced in a deliberate casual manner that she was with child, he pulled her into his arms. He kissed his laughing wife on her cheeks, nose, forehead and neck repeatedly. He could not express his delight enough.
‘Soon I will have another baby to look after,’ Amel teased him on his childish excitement.
She threw her head back laughing when Hayder picked her up in his strong arms and gently lay her down on the sleeping rug. He lifted her clothes to feel her tummy.
‘You men are hopeless in the way of childbearing,’ she teased him again.
‘It won’t show for a few more months, silly,’ she explained, giggling.
Once his initial feelings of excitement had passed, Hayder felt a strange warm feeling and a tightening of the heart at the thought of becoming a father. Then, the realisation that he was leaving in the morning hit him.
‘How can I leave you now?’ he said to Amel, feeling guilty.
‘Everything will be fine. You go on your trip. It’s only for a few weeks,’ Amel reassured him.
She made him promise not to worry and to come home safely.
So after an interminable three weeks, Hayder was on his way home. There was a spring in his step as he touched the bag containing the fine fabrics he had bought for her.
‘She will have to start making baby clothes too, as well as new clothes for herself,’ he thought fondly.
Usually, on the day of his return from a trip, the courtyard door would be open with Amel darting out every now and then to check the long track along the row of houses. When she spotted her husband from a distance, she would run down the track and leap into his arms. However, as Hayder approached the house that late afternoon, he did not see Amel waiting for him. He was bemused.
‘Perhaps in her condition she is feeling tired and having a longer nap than usual. Or she may have gone out to get water,’ he told himself in an attempt to reassure himself.
Hayder quickened his steps. When he reached
the house he found the courtyard door locked. He banged hard on the door to wake Amel in case she was sleeping. No response. After a while, he knocked again and waited. He was getting increasingly concerned since this was so unlike his usual homecoming. As he stood there waiting helplessly, Hayder heard the adjacent courtyard door open and her veiled neighbour appeared.
‘Salam Alaikum – Peace be upon you, brother. I have your door key,’ she said.
Hayder did not understand why his key was with the neighbour.
‘Alaikum Salam – And unto you peace. Why do you have my key, sister and where is Amel?’ he asked.
The neighbour explained how she had heard banging on the door the previous night and saw Amel leaving with religious guards.
‘I heard them say they were taking her to the mosque,’ she added.
‘As the courtyard door was left open, I took it upon myself to lock it and kept the key,’ she further explained.
Hayder thanked her, but the information did nothing to alleviate his concern. In fact it only made him more worried. As he walked through the house, he noticed the empty cooking pot and the uncooked goat meat in the cooler pot.
‘Amel must have left in a hurry,’ Hayder thought when he saw that the oil lamp had burned dry.
The sight of the undisturbed sleeping rug deepened his apprehension, but otherwise the house was tidy and everything appeared to be in order. He immediately left the house and headed for the mosque.
‘The guards will be able to give me more information and I will finally see Amel,’ he thought.
He had to force himself not to run, but to proceed at a steady pace. Hayder was sharp and quick-witted, but for once he was at a loss to imagine a credible scenario that could explain the situation. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, a foreboding that something was terribly wrong.
Although the afternoon prayer had been over for some time, there were still a few people lingering around, waiting for the evening prayer. Some sat in small groups talking quietly whilst others were reading from the Holy Book. Hayder knew the imam by sight and looked for him in the building. When he couldn’t find him, he went round the rear of the mosque to the imam’s private quarters and knocked on the door.
‘One moment,’ a voice called out.
Hayder waited in trepidation. In a few moments he would finally find out the whereabouts of his wife and be able to see her. After a long delay, the door opened and the imam came out.
‘How can I help you, sayyidi?’ he inquired.
‘Salam Alaikum, Imam Yasir. My name is Hayder bin Jalal Al-Din. My wife was taken from our home by your guards last night and I have been told that she was brought here,’ Hayder said in as calm a voice as possible, although his heart was pounding and his legs felt like jelly.
‘Alaikum Salam, sayyidi. I have been expecting you. Regrettably, your wife isn’t here any longer. She was transferred to Qadday this morning and hence no longer under my jurisdiction. You will have to address your inquiry there,’ Imam Yasir explained in a gentle voice.
Hayder was perplexed while at the same time getting irritated.
‘But why, Imam Yasir? Why? Could you please explain to me? Why has my wife been arrested? What has she done?’ he blurted out.
Imam Yasir hesitated briefly and after a deep breath, he invited the young man indoors.
‘Please come inside and I will explain everything to you.’
After both men had sat down on the cushions set out on the rug, Imam Yasir looked directly at Hayder, his eyes filled with sadness. He realised that the young man would be in for a terrible shock when he would be told him about his wife’s infidelity.
‘But it is my duty to tell him the truth since he has the right to know,’ the imam thought.
By now, Hayder was convinced that something terrible had happened. He braced himself for the worst, but was not prepared for what was to follow.
‘Sayyidi, your wife has been accused of adultery. We have to investigate every case seriously. I understand that this is difficult for you, but rest assured the authorities will do a thorough investigation,’ Imam Yasir went straight to the point.
Hayder didn’t hear beyond the word ‘adultery’. His head started to spin and he suddenly felt hot as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. With his ears ringing, Hayder felt as though he was going to collapse and put out his hand on the rug to steady himself. A nauseous feeling rose up deep in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was about to be sick. He closed his eyes in an attempt to fight the nausea and stop the room from swirling around. Seeing his paleness, Imam Yasir quickly poured him some water into a cup from the earthenware jug on the side table.
‘Here, drink some water. It will make you feel better,’ he offered.
Hayder’s hand was shaking too much to hold the cup. He took deep breaths and focused on his breathing to clear his head. After a while his heart began to slow down and the room gradually stopped spinning. Although his panic receded, the feeling of sickness in his stomach remained. Hayder was grateful for the cool water as there was a metallic taste in his mouth.
‘Shukran,’ he muttered in a trembling voice.
The young man sat quietly for some time, lost in his thoughts. Imam Yasir didn’t say a word, giving him time to process the information and recover from the shock. After regaining his composure, Hayder realised that the imam was not the person to argue the case with. He had to go to the Grand Mosque in Qadday as soon as possible, but first he needed more information. He was beginning to think more rationally. Imam Yasir obligingly answered his questions. He explained to Hayder how a witness had reported the case. He described how he had personally interviewed Amel to decide if this was a case of false accusation. Since there was only one witness, it would have been the witness’ word against that of the accused.
‘Unfortunately, your wife has acknowledged that she did have sexual intercourse with a man although she maintained she was attacked and raped. As cases of such importance are outside my jurisdiction, I have referred the matter to the Grand Mosque for further investigation,’ he further clarified.
Hayder listened to the imam’s explanations, using all his power not to interrupt.
‘Had your wife denied the allegations of the single witness, I would have released her,’ Imam Yasir added.
Amel would always tell the truth no matter what the circumstances were. Hayder was convinced that she had definitely been raped.
‘You will need to go to Qadday as quickly as possible. Her case will most certainly be heard in three days’ time at the weekly sitting of the court,’ Imam Yasir advised.
Qadday was a day’s camel ride away from Kuffrat. Time was of the essence. Hayder thanked the imam and stood up to leave. Imam Yasir placed his hand on Hayder’s arm.
‘Son, it’s time for the evening prayer. Why don’t you come and pray with me?’ he said gently.
Despite his impatience to get to the Grand Mosque, Hayder realised it was too late to set off that evening. Besides, there were a few things he needed to do first. As he made his way home, Hayder wondered what Amel was doing at this very instant. Immediately the feeling of panic returned and he had to force himself to focus on the things he had to do before leaving. Once home, he quickly packed a change of clothes for himself and one for Amel. After filling his water bag, he went back inside and lifted the rug in the far corner of the back room. To the untrained eye, the dried mud floor looked uniform and no different from the rest of the floor. However, Hayder gently prised open a wooden cover whose top was camouflaged with dried mud, revealing a small recess in the ground. It was their secret hiding place where they kept their savings. He took out a leather bag and counted enough money for the trip, which he then put away in a purse under his clothes.
‘It feels odd to be alone in the house. Amel has never spent a night away from me since we moved here,’ he thought, suddenly noticing the silence in the house for the first time.
Amel was always laughing or singing
or simply chattering away. She had always been the spirit of happiness in the house. Hayder sighed as he replaced the leather bag in the recess and covered it back again. As he stood up, he felt his dizzy and realised that he had not eaten since dawn. There were only a few dates in the basket, which he ate and washed these down with soured milk. Finally when he was ready to leave, Hayder picked up the cooler pot with the goat meat and knocked on his neighbour’s door. After some time, the veiled lady came out. Hayder gave her his key for safekeeping and the cooler pot with the goat meat.
‘I would be indebted if you would accept this before the meat is spoilt by the heat. I have to leave for Qadday urgently,’ he told her.
He then set off on his way to Asif’s house.
Chapter 6
Asif was not only Hayder’s uncle, but also his mentor and business partner. However to Asif, Hayder was like a son, the son he never had. Asif’s ageing mind played tricks on him and he sometimes saw a younger version of himself in Hayder’s features.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Asif would then tell himself, knowing very well that there was no blood tie between them.
Hayder’s late maternal grandfather, Mahafuz, had rescued Asif when he was sixteen years old and took him under his care. Eventually he adopted the young man as his son and accepted him into his clan. After four years living in the desert with his new family, Asif had returned back to Kuffrat where he established his business as a trader. Initially, he had started off as a pedlar, going from door to door selling basic household items. Subsequently, he set up his own market stall before going into the wholesale business a few years later. When Hayder was old enough, Asif had pleaded with Mahafuz and the boy’s mother Leila to allow Hayder to come and stay with him for a better life.
‘He will have a better quality of life in town instead of the harsh, frugal life of the desert,’ Asif had said to Hayder’s parents.
