Beyond the Sand Dune

by Asen Djinah

  ‘I have been coordinating announcements at the other mosques in town to make the public aware of your task,’ the imam informed them after the customary greetings.

  ‘Here is a list of potential contributors,’ he added, handing a list of names to the scholars.

  Now that they had reached their first destination, Nuffay and Safwan were excited to start working. As true academics, the difficulties of the journey were already forgotten with their minds now focused on the task ahead. Both were excited to be in a position to help Caliph Omar with the threat facing the empire, their patriotism superseding their rivalry.

  ‘As you can see from the list, I have spread the contributors throughout the week rather than having everyone turning up on the first day. Each day you will see about ten persons in the morning and another ten in the afternoon,’ the imam explained.

  Nuffay and Safwan were thankful for this practical arrangement and made a mental note to do the same at the other towns.

  The next morning, straight after morning prayers, the imam led the ulamas to a room which would serve as their office for the week. Already a group of men were waiting outside the door. After the scholars had settled in, Nass’r ushered in the first contributor, an old man in his late sixties.

  ‘What is your name and lineage, venerable old man?’ Nuffay asked.

  He was following the questions as laid out in the guidelines prepared by Chief Ulama Kateb himself. Safwan was scribing while Nuffay asked the questions and they would alternate throughout the day. As the old man gave his name and those of his father and grandfather, Nuffay waited for his colleague to finish scribing before moving onto the next question.

  ‘Which saying of the Prophet do you wish to tell us about? Please use the exact words as it was narrated to you,’ he asked.

  ‘I cannot remember the exact words, but the saying goes like this, “Do you know what is better than charity and fasting and prayer? It is keeping peace and good relations between people, as quarrels and bad feelings destroy mankind”,’ the old man said.

  Safwan was busy writing and Nuffay waited patiently while consulting the guidelines for the next question.

  ‘Who told you this? What is his name and relation to you?’ he probed.

  In this instance, the saying was narrated to the old man by his own late father.

  ‘Did your father say who recounted this to him?’ he pursued, to establish the line of transmission.

  ‘One of the companions had asked the Holy Prophet about what he can do in addition to prayer and charity and the Prophet had answered him with this saying. My grandfather was a young man at that time and was present when it was mentioned. He told the anecdote to my father, who in turn narrated it to me,’ the old man clarified.

  ‘Do you know the name of the companion of the Prophet who had asked the question?’ Nuffay queried.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ replied the old man, looking contrite.

  Both Nuffay and Safwan were pleased with the way their first interview had gone and they thanked the old man for his contribution. The guidelines handed to them had been useful, but there was still one last question remaining.

  ‘Do you know of any other saying relating to rewards for martyrs who give their life for the cause of God?’ Nuffay asked.

  He looked disappointed when the old man shook his head apologetically.

  By late afternoon the two ulamas had completed the interviews of all twenty contributors and written down their depositions. In each case they had made sure to note down the lines of transmission through the generations. Many had contributed more than one saying and although all were keen to help, not one of the men had any sayings related to martyrdom. Whilst initially disappointed, Nuffay realised that he had to be patient.

  ‘It is only the first day of a four-week project. Surely we will find someone to contribute on this subject,’ he told Safwan.

  If only he could find a credible source, this would surely lead to the road of redemption and he would be back in Kateb’s favours.

  ‘I know I will not be able to displace Safwan from his trusted position, since we will both have to share the credit. Nevertheless, it will be good to be back in favour, even if it means working alongside Safwan,’ he thought.

  After the last person had left, Safwan exchanged notes with Nuffay and each checked the other’s writing to ensure that nothing had been left out. Once completed, they began the final task of collating the sayings under the headings specified in the guidelines. It was while doing this that Safwan first felt the tingling in his rectal area.

  ‘Oh no! The worm infestation has returned,’ he thought in despair.

  During the next half hour, he was unable to concentrate on his task. With Nuffay sitting next to him, it was a nightmare for Safwan to mask his discomfort. He felt utter relief when Nuffay suggested that they stopped for the evening prayers.

  ‘I will have to tell Nass’r about this and ask him to get me some medicine from the market. I simply cannot leave Nuffay alone with the task, otherwise I will have to tell him about this embarrassing and delicate matter,’ he decided as he walked out, leaving Nuffay in the room.

  The day had started so well with a true sense of purpose, but now he felt frustrated at the irony that the important job of saving the empire was being hindered by such a banal infestation of worms.

  Chapter 2

  ‘O

  khti, why are we staying at Asif’s house and not in your own home?’ Nabila asked for the tenth time since she had first arrived a week ago.

  She always made sure that Asif was out of earshot, so as not to offend her host when she questioned Amel.

  ‘I like your house better as it faces the desert. Why can’t we go there?’ she quizzed her sister yet again.

  Once again, Amel patiently explained that Asif was lonely and that both she and Hayder had decided to stay in his house to keep him company.

  ‘I cannot tell her about my court case yet as it will break her heart,’ Amel thought, ‘I will only tell her the truth at the last possible moment.’

  But it was true that Asif was lonely and had asked them repeatedly over the past year to come and stay with him. Nevertheless, her answer did not seem to fully satisfy Nabila, for she would come up with the same question a few days later. Just like Amel, she felt oppressed in the airless house in the middle of the town with its narrow alleyways.

  ‘Besides, Asif’s servant helps me with the chores as I get tired easily these days,’ Amel reminded her younger sister.

  Nabila glanced at Hayder, who was sitting at his desk working on his ledgers. He did not seem to have heard the conversation between the two sisters. Nabila had noticed that her brother-in-law was always at home, conducting his business dealings with his foreman in the comfort of Asif’s house. Now that Amel was pregnant, he was even more thoughtful to her slightest wishes, taking her daily to the market. However Nabila also observed that he rarely smiled these days. Since she had come to visit, he had not teased her once or made her laugh; Hayder and his sister-in-law always used to banter with each other and laugh all the time.

  ‘He must have something on his mind,’ Nabila thought with insight.

  She was very fond of her brother-in-law and was so happy that her sister had found her soulmate in him.

  ‘It is so romantic the way Hayder fell in love with Amel after hearing her voice, before even seeing her in person,’ she had always thought, ‘These two were made for each other.’

  She hoped that one day she too would find someone like Hayder. Looking at him now, she remembered the day, three years ago, when Hayder’s father came to ask for Amel’s hand.

  Chapter 3

  Hayder had been fortunate on his latest travels. He had met a merchant eager to rid himself of a surplus of silk yarn.

  ‘I badly need the space in my warehouse for other goods and I will let you have the yarn at cost price if you take the whole lot right away,’ the merchant told him.

  Although Hayder did
not know of any customers for such a luxury raw material, he realised it was too good a deal to pass. Cotton or wool yarns were more common than the expensive silk, which was only used for luxury carpets or fabrics.

  ‘There are far fewer buyers and I will have to work hard to find customers,’ he mulled over, ‘but it is worth a gamble, since I am getting silk yarn for almost the same price as cotton.’

  Using his initiative, Hayder purchased the entire stock there and then as there was no time to go all the way back to Kuffrat to consult Asif.

  ‘I have heard of one luxury carpet maker in Kuffrat and surely there must be others in the neighbouring towns. Asif and I will have to visit them and offer them a good deal,’ he told himself on the return journey to Kuffrat, feeling a little bit anxious having committed to such a large trade.

  He was relieved when he saw that Asif was delighted by the deal. Immediately the two partners worked out a selling price just below the market value, to entice buyers whilst still making a substantial profit.

  ‘Hayder, you must be tired from your journey; I suggest you stay here in town and visit Rafiq the carpet maker. I will travel to the factories in the neighbouring towns to find buyers,’ Asif told his nephew.

  It was while waiting in the lobby of Rafiq’s factory that Hayder first heard the singing. It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. With its soft melancholic tone, the melody of the song would haunt him in the days to come. The song was about a young girl desperately in love who could not bear to be away from her beloved.

  ‘What a beautiful voice! I wonder who is singing,’ Hayder thought, mesmerised by the enchanting melody.

  The tone was sad, yet full of hope. And every time the singer hit the higher notes, Hayder felt a tightness in his chest. He found himself holding his breath as he listened and tried to catch the words of the song. He felt as though he had known the tune all his life, for it felt strangely familiar and catching.

  ‘Surely, the singer must be single and unmarried. No married women would dare sing openly in their place of work,’ he thought to himself.

  He was snapped out of his reverie by the factory supervisor.

  ‘Rafiq does not come to the factory very often, but his two sons are happy to see you,’ he informed Hayder.

  As the young man walked into the office, greeted at the door by the two brothers, the song reached its end and stopped. Hayder went through his sales pitch and showed the two brothers samples of different colours of the silk yarn he had brought along. Without the captivating voice to distract him, Hayder was able to concentrate on his task. Seeing the brothers’ interest and being fully aware of the customary haggling to come, Hayder told them a price higher than that he had agreed with Asif. Soon the two parties were making offers and counter-offers until they settled on the exact price that Asif and Hayder had agreed to sell. The two brothers were rubbing their hands with satisfaction, delighted to have benefitted from a price lower than what they usually paid.

  As soon as Hayder and the brothers sealed the deal, the singing started once more. Hayder could not help thinking that the singer had deliberately paused to allow him to conduct his business and now as if to celebrate the deal, she had resumed singing again.

  ‘Stop being silly,’ he told himself, knowing very well that the singer was completely unaware of his existence.

  Then an idea suddenly came to him and he turned to the brothers.

  ‘Will it be possible to give me a tour of the factory? I would like to see your operation and see for myself how these beautiful carpets are woven,’ he requested, desperate to find out who was singing.

  As he was taken around the various rooms, Hayder listened to the new upbeat song about the secret meeting between a girl madly in love and her sweetheart. Captivated by the silky voice, he barely paid attention to the brothers explaining the various stages of carpet weaving. As they got closer to the room where the singing was coming from, Hayder’s pulse quickened. He was desperate to catch a glimpse of the girl with the melodious voice.

  ‘This is the ladies’ work room. Out of respect, we will not go inside as they are not decently covered,’ one of the brothers said.

  Hayder was crestfallen. Still, he managed to peek through the open doorway and saw the backs of several women bent over their weaving looms; the head of one of the women was swaying in rhythm with the song.

  ‘So this is the singer,’ Hayder thought, noticing that she was wearing a navy blue scarf.

  Although he did not know it then, the visit to the carpet factory that morning would change his life in a way he could never have anticipated.

  Asif was over the moon. Within the next few weeks the two partners had sold the entire stock of silk yarn and had almost doubled their outlay. Usually they sold their goods at a mark-up of around twenty percent, but this had been an exceptional deal. Rafiq the local carpet maker and two of the silk fabric weavers that Asif had visited in nearby towns had bought the entire stock.

  ‘You have done well to spot this amazing opportunity,’ Asif congratulated Hayder, feeling proud of his nephew.

  ‘Well, Uncle, now that we have found clients for this luxury item, we have to look for a supplier to keep this lucrative line running. I am thinking of paying a visit to the silk merchant on my next travel and ask him to put me in touch with his supplier,’ Hayder replied.

  With such a large profit made, even the modest Hayder was elated. He had never taken such a big risk before and was surprised at the ease with which they had found buyers for their new product.

  A few days later, Asif proposed that they visit Hayder’s family to celebrate their recent success.

  ‘Why don’t we take a break and go to the desert? It will be nice to see the family again after so long. It is a good time to visit, as it is the month of Safar and business is quiet,’ he said.

  ‘What a good idea, Uncle. I have been thinking about home too and wondering how they are faring, especially during this dry weather. When do you think we can leave?’ Hayder replied enthusiastically, jumping at the suggestion.

  ‘It has been nearly eight months since we last visited them; I can’t wait to see them again,’ he added.

  The very next day they set off to buy the supplies they used to take with them whenever they visited the tribe. Although the tribe leader Hisham, who was Hayder’s maternal uncle, would once again reprimand them for bringing such gifts, Asif and Hayder knew very well that the flour, rice and spices would be of great assistance to their kin who were always running low on stock. Life in the desert was a continuous fight for survival and with only their livestock to rely upon, food was frequently rationed.

  Just days before their intended departure, Hayder came home in a sombre mood which was unusual for him. He was habitually cheerful and easy-going, although in a quiet humbling way. But that evening he had a deep frown on his face and his lips drawn tight. He had learned that afternoon from the water boys at the well that the singing girl was from the hated Qufreid tribe. Asif was puzzled by Hayder’s unusual mood

  ‘Something has upset him,’ he thought.

  However he decided not to probe, knowing that Hayder would eventually confide in him when ready.

  ‘I am glad that we are going to the desert. Surrounded by his family, Hayder will be distracted from whatever is on his mind,’ Asif thought.

  Unknown to Asif, Hayder was having the exact same thoughts. Eager to forget his disappointment, he was looking forward to spend time with his family. He was planning to go on hunting trips in the vast empty open space of the desert, just like he used to in his carefree younger days. Before leaving, Asif and Hayder gave detailed instructions to the foreman about the running of the business in their absence. Although Asif knew the general whereabouts of the tribe at this time of the year, he had sent Muadh – one of the workers – the previous week to find their exact location and inform the tribesmen of their visit. They had agreed to meet at the town of Beryan for Muadh to pass on the exact directions to the cam
p.

  Asif and Hayder departed at first light a few days later, after having loaded the camels with the supplies they were taking to the tribe. In addition to their own rides, they had five camels laden with provisions. Each was carrying about a hundred and fifty pounds of goods including waterskins. Loading and unloading the camels daily and seeing to their wellbeing were huge tasks and the two partners had brought along Ali, their usual guide, for help. Not only would Ali take care of the camels, he would also have the responsibility of setting up camp in the evenings and preparing the meals.

  ‘I know the desert like the back of my hand,’ Ali would boast to attract customers, ‘I know which areas have treacherous quicksand and which waterholes have dried up.’

  Both Asif and Hayder had heard stories about goats and camels being swallowed in quicksand and were wary of venturing into unknown areas without a guide. And Ali indeed knew the desert very well and had knowledge of the location of every single waterhole. Soon the caravan was on its way, with Ali at the front of the line and the five camels tied head-to-tail behind. Asif and Hayder closed the rear, riding side by side. Initially they talked about their recent success with the silk yarn. When there was no more to say on the subject, they moved on to discuss various business ideas they had been mulling over. However, with the sun high in the sky the travellers soon became entranced by the slow pacing gait of the camels and the vastness of the desert. The monotony of the journey took over and as the conversation died down, each fell into their own thoughts.

  After a while, Hayder caught himself humming the song he had heard at the factory. It had been almost four weeks to the day since he had first heard it, yet the tune was still fresh in his mind. His thoughts went to the conversation he’d had with the boys at the water-well.