by Asen Djinah
With his opening statement delivered, Safwan sat down feeling very pleased with himself. Then suddenly remembering that he had missed something, he hastily got back to his feet.
‘I solemnly confirm that both the witness and the accused have been questioned jointly by my esteemed colleague, the defending ulama and myself as per the usual procedure,’ he added.
He sat down again pleased with his performance and immediately regretted not asking his wife to come and watch him in action.
Acknowledging the prearranged cue from the prosecutor, Nuffay slowly got to his feet. Though he was older and more experienced than his court adversary, Nuffay was not looking forward to this case. For a brief moment he wondered why he’d been assigned as defender yet again to another lost case. But he already knew the answer. He had long since realised that he was no longer a favourite of Chief Ulama Kateb. Not since the day he had dared to debate the ruling of a case with his leader.
‘I should have done so in private, rather than in front of the other ulamas. Or better still not raised my concern at all,’ he bitterly regretted.
Kateb had brushed aside his objections without even bothering to offer an explanation. Before that incident, as a bright and promising scholar, Nuffay had been under Kateb’s wing – rumour even had it that he was Kateb’s understudy. But since that dreadful day, he was always picked to defend hopeless cases, to send a message to the other scholars about his lack of respect. It was Safwan the prosecutor who had taken his envied position and was the new rising star.
‘God Almighty, help me to defend this poor woman,’ Nuffay made a silent prayer as he got up to his feet.
He wanted desperately to win this case, knowing very well that his colleagues expected him to lose due to the defendant’s own admission that there had been intercourse. Nuffay sighed and took a long breath.
‘Your Excellency, this case is clear. Yes, the witness did see the accused and the traveller having intercourse by the water-well. Yes, the accused did confirm that jamaa took place. But as this case will unfold, I will explain to you what really happened. I will describe the true turn of events of that dreadful evening and it will become clear to you all that the defendant is actually a victim in this tragic case,’ he started off.
By then, Amel became so overwhelmed by the events around her that her mind once again switched off in an attempt to block out the sordid words being uttered in this court, words that destroyed her character and reputation and brought her shame out into the open. Instead her mind took her to the days when as a carefree toddler, she followed her mother around, wanting to help with the chores. She was so happy then.
Chapter 11
‘A
mel bint Abdul-Basir, how do you plead to the charge of adultery? Guilty or not guilty?’ Caliph Omar asked.
Amel was still lost in her reverie, her mind flooding itself with memories from her childhood. She was now thinking of her pet goat Abitha that she had as a child. From the moment she first saw the kid goat, all white with black socks, and forehead, she had fallen in love with it. Although being only five years old, Amel already knew how to manipulate her father. She kept pestering him until he eventually caved in, allowing her to keep the kid. Amel would feed her new pet milk from her drinking bowl and play with her all day long. The two had become so attached that whenever she whistled, Abitha would come over, gambolling on her long legs. And when the little girl was sleeping, the kid would come and lie next to her, resting her chin on Amel’s tummy.
‘Speak,’ one of the jailers nudged her in the ribs.
Amel snapped back to reality, looking around as if she was seeing the room for the first time. She had barely registered the opening statements of both the prosecuting and the defending ulamas.
‘Amel bint Abdul-Basir, you have been charged with adultery. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?’ Caliph Omar repeated his question.
‘I am not guilty, your Excellency.’
Her voice was barely audible and she was not sure that the caliph had heard her plea.
‘Not guilty, your Excellency,’ she repeated in a louder voice.
Caliph Omar nodded to Safwan who scrambled to his feet. As he stood up, he puffed his chest and surveyed the crowd in a theatrical manner before finally turning towards Caliph Omar.
‘Your Excellency, before stating my case I would like to commend the witness for his courage in coming forward to fulfil his religious duty by reporting the incident to the authorities.’
Safwan pointed at Fadel, who looked very different, unrecognisable from his usual self. His previously matted hair and beard had been trimmed, oiled and combed. Having been given a bath and dressed in clean clothes provided by the authorities, the vagrant bore an air of respectability which disguised his true nature. He had even been provided with a room and a stipend so he could remain in Qadday during the course of the trial. Fadel was very happy with his new appearance and hoped that after the trial he would become well-known enough for the public to be even more generous towards him. The only snag was that he would have to take measures to sneak away and smoke his hashish away from prying eyes.
‘A small price to pay,’ he thought.
For people to recognise him, Fadel stood up and took a bow while grinning and scratching the back of his head. To his delight, everyone including the ulamas nodded their heads approvingly.
‘Your Excellency, the act of jamaa is undeniable, as the defendant and the witness affirmed in their independent statements. However, the defendant maintains that she was raped, which is the sole point upon which this case rests. I will raise three points to establish, irrefutably and beyond any doubt, that there was no rape and that this is a definite case of adultery,’ Safwan started off.
The prosecutor quickly glanced at Kateb to see if he approved, but was met by the bored look on his mentor’s face. He took a pause and took a deep breath before carrying on.
‘Firstly, based on both the defendant’s and the witness’ interviews, there were no shouts for help or screams of any sort. As we all know, any woman when attacked would instinctively cry out for help. It's in their nature to do so. Not to scream under these circumstances is inconceivable. But this defendant told us herself that she didn’t utter a sound.’
‘Did you shout for help or scream out of panic? Please keep your answer short and to the point,’ he then asked, turning to Amel.
‘No,’ Amel replied.
Although Amel’s voice was fairly loud for everyone to hear, Safwan wanted to make an impact with the audience.
‘Please, can you speak up? I cannot hear you. Did you or did you not call for help?’ he asked more forcefully.
‘No, I did not,’ Amel repeated in a louder voice.
Safwan looked around the audience theatrically with a smile on his face. He was pleased that his first point had been well received.
‘Here are the clothes the defendant wore at the time of her alleged rape,’ the prosecuting ulama said, deliberately articulating the last two words to stress his sarcasm.
‘As you can see, there is not the smallest tear or rip on either her clothes or her undergarments.’
He was holding Amel’s abaya in his left hand, whilst his right hand was waving her undergarments for everyone to see.
‘Can you, Amel bint Abdul-Basir, confirm that these are the same garments you were wearing when you were allegedly raped,’ Safwan said, once again emphasising the last two words.
The sight of her undergarments being displayed so publicly in front of all these men made Amel feel even more humiliated.
‘Yes,’ she replied softly, her head bent, staring at the floor.
The ulama was thrilled that his performance was going so well and that the defendant was playing right into his hands. So far it had been very easy and Safwan felt rather silly to have been unduly worried when the case was first assigned to him.
‘I am not going to ask the defendant to remove her clothes for my final point,’ he said, looking at the a
udience to see their reaction to his double-entendre.
The crowd responded with a muffled laugh. Caliph Omar immediately frowned at Safwan. Clearly the caliph did not appreciate the innuendo implied by the prosecutor at the expense of the defendant. Feeling sheepish, Safwan hurriedly carried on.
‘The defendant was thoroughly examined by her two guards. There was not a single scratch, cut or bruise on her entire body,’ he informed the crowd.
He looked at the guards and raised his eyebrows.
‘I confirm that there was no sign of any injury, cuts or bruises on the defendant’s body,’ the jailer on the right said.
‘I confirm that there was no sign of any injury, cuts or bruises on the defendant’s body,’ her colleague on the left recited.
Having made his case, Safwan was ready for his closing statement.
‘Your Excellency, the defendant did not scream or call for help, her clothes were intact, without any damage and she did not suffer the slightest injury. These are verified facts and not speculation. These three facts clearly indicate that there must have been consent, consent from the defendant to have sexual intercourse with the other party, consent that defines adultery. On this basis, I urge this court to find the defendant guilty of the act of adultery.’
Safwan felt euphoric that his performance was even better than he expected. He took a bow and sat down, already relishing the look on his wife’s face when he would describe the details of his exploits to her that evening.
Nuffay slowly stood up. While listening to Safwan making his case so eloquently, he had reminisced about the time when he was the rising star.
‘If only I could turn back the clock,’ he thought.
He feared that this would be another lost case to add to his growing list.
‘How could I refute the points put forward so persuasively?’ he thought to himself.
He wished that the defendant had lied and denied the whole incident. It would have been her word against that of a single witness – and a vagrant at that.
‘Your Excellency, the three points put forward by my colleague are all circumstantial. I will fully refute each one beyond any shadow of doubt,’ Nuffay began.
From the podium, he looked down at the defendant and felt empathy towards her.
‘As mentioned earlier, I will tell you exactly what happened on that tragic night,’ he continued, stressing the words ‘exactly’ and ‘tragic’.
Nuffay recognised that he needed to get the audience to sympathise with the defendant and see her as a victim, rather than a perpetrator.
‘What my colleague deliberately omitted to tell you is that the defendant is with child since the past three months.’
Nuffay paused to let this new information sink in.
‘Yes, my colleague deliberately omitted to tell you this important fact. The defendant is pregnant with her very first child,’ he repeated in a low conspiring voice.
The defending ulama was glad to see that the audience was taken by surprise by this revelation and was now listening intently.
‘As an expectant mother, she is conscious of good nourishment and of the need to take plenty of rest to ensure that her baby is born in good health. We are all aware that God Almighty has given every mother, every woman on earth this remarkable maternal instinct. With her maternal instinct, the defendant has already started to protect her baby even before it is born, like any mother would,’ he said with much passion.
‘Sayyida, were you afraid your baby might be hurt that particular night you were assaulted?’ Nuffay asked gently, turning towards Amel.
‘I was terrified. His elbow was pressing against my stomach,’ Amel replied in a coarse voice, overwhelmed by emotions.
Nuffay nodded exaggeratedly for everyone to notice his compassion. He then turned to Caliph Omar.
‘What my colleague also excluded from his speech was that the defendant pleaded with her attacker and told him that she was married and with child. He responded by threatening to hurt her and the baby if she didn’t keep quiet. What should a mother do in such a situation?’
The defending ulama paused and surveyed the audience as if expecting someone to answer his rhetorical question.
‘Well, as any mother would, the defendant was more concerned about the safety and welfare of her baby than her own. She was terrified her baby would be hurt and so endured her ordeal without resisting. I ask you, is it a crime to put your baby first?’
Nuffay looked at the audience and squinted as he asked again in a conspiring voice.
‘The prosecuting ulama is absolutely right about the three observations he made. But do you know where he went wrong?’
He waited for an imaginary answer before continuing in a louder voice.
‘The prosecutor was right when he stated she didn’t fight back. But why didn’t she, you must be wondering?’ he asked.
‘Because her protective maternal instinct told her so,’ he bellowed and then again paused dramatically.
‘My colleague was again right when he said she didn’t shout for help. Why didn’t she? With her attacker’s hands tight around her throat, her motherly instincts instructed her not to. She wanted her baby to be safe.’
‘My colleague was once again right when he told you that her clothes were intact and she didn’t have any bruises. Why was she unscathed? Well, her maternal disposition ordered her not to fight back and to protect her unborn baby instead. That is why.’
‘But my colleague was completely wrong in saying these facts prove consent. His arguments are nothing but mere speculation and the three points raised are only circumstantial and certainly not evidence of guilt. The defendant has been honest right from the beginning when she acknowledged that there was intercourse. The true fact is that she was sadly attacked and violated on that tragic night.’
Nuffay paused and for a moment he thought the defendant might have a chance after all, since he had sounded so convincing. However, as he surveyed the audience he noticed that they remained impassive to his speech.
‘Your Excellency, if the defendant is guilty, she is only guilty of protecting her unborn child. Nothing more. She was simply guarding her unborn child after being threatened by her attacker. I recommend that this court clears the defendant of the charge of adultery.’
As Nuffay sat down there was a palpable silence in the room. The crowd was eager to know what the caliph’s verdict would be. After a moment of reflexion while the crowd waited in anticipation, Caliph Omar finally addressed the defendant.
‘Amel bint Abdul-Basir, is there anything that you would like to add in your defence?’
‘Your Excellency, with your permission, I would like to say a few words. I am the husband of the defendant,’ Hayder said as he stepped forward, his heart thumping furiously.
All heads in the room turned in the direction of his voice and saw a well-dressed young man moving among the sitting men to approach the podium.
When he had first seen Amel dragged into the room by her guards, Hayder had fought the impulse to run to her – to take her in his arms and comfort her.
‘She must be terrified,’ he had thought.
Then, when the crowd jeered, a sudden anger had come over him. Resisting the urge to intervene, Hayder had bitten his lip and clenched his fists. Realising that it would do more harm than good to get involved, Hayder had maintained an air of detachment, while enduring the entire proceeding with his teeth clenched.
‘I have to be strong for her,’ he repeated to himself every time he felt he was losing his composure.
Chapter 12
Caliph Omar immediately recognised the young man approaching the podium, although he could not recall his name. Some time ago, Hayder had been introduced to Omar by Asif, an eminent member of the community at a time when the caliph was looking for a trader to bring him herbal remedies from abroad. Caliph Omar’s first wife suffered from terrible headaches and had tried various treatments without success. After local remedies had failed to pro
vide relief, the caliph had been searching for a trader to bring him new medicines from other countries for his wife to try. Someone had introduced him to Asif the merchant, who in turn acquainted him with Hayder. Since then, Caliph Omar had met the young man a few times when he had come to the palace to deliver new herbs in person. They had barely exchanged more than a few words, with the caliph being constantly busy. He could not believe that it was the man’s wife who was standing trial for adultery. Caliph Omar felt empathy towards the young man and the situation he was in.
‘Well, the fact that I know him does not make any difference to this case. Justice must be served, no matter what,’ he thought.
With a nod of the head, Caliph Omar acknowledged Hayder’s request. As the young man made his way to the front of the podium, navigating through the sitting men, the crowd held their breath. The men were curious to hear what the husband of the accused had to say.
‘As a cheated husband whose honour has been sullied by his wife, he will surely ask for her to be found guilty,’ most of them were thinking.
When Hayder reached the front of the podium, he stood a couple of steps ahead of Amel and her guards. He had deliberately avoided making eye contact with his wife while making his way to the podium. He could not afford to lose his composure, at this time more than ever. He was determined to stay focused. Hayder bowed his head to the caliph as a sign of respect.
‘Your Excellency, Thank you for allowing me to speak. My name is Hayder bin Jalal Al-Din of the Juhayah tribe. I am married to the defendant, Amel bint Abdul-Basir of the Qufreid tribe. We are both from the town of Kuffrat,’ he started off formally in a shaky voice.
‘My wife is an honourable woman, a woman of virtue. If she says that she has been raped, then this is exactly what happened, your Excellency. My wife always tells the truth. She knew that had she lied, with a single witness’ word against hers, she would have been set free. Yet despite the consequences, she stuck to the truth. Anyone in this room would have been proud to have such a wife and I am indeed honoured that God has chosen me to be her husband.’
