Princess Sultana's Daughters

Pakistan,
and China. Kareem told us he had recently read an article in a
foreign newspaper that quoted startling statistics. Tens of
millions of females were missing in those lands, and no one seemed
particularly interested in finding out what had happened to
them.
    My husband felt so strongly about the matter
that he insisted upon discussing further the evil practice of
infanticide by telling our children a story I was not aware he knew
in such detail.
    The children moaned and said they were too
old for stories from their father, but my husband insisted, saying
that while statistics made little impact on our emotions,
individual tales of horror brought tears to the eyes and generated
action on social issues in the world community.
    Seeing my husband in a new light, I listened
as he told the famous Muslim tale that had been passed down by
professional storytellers from the time of Prophet Mohammed.
    “Prior to the founding of the Islamic faith
by Prophet Mohammed,” Kareem said, “there was a tribe in Arabia
that practiced the inhuman deed of burying alive their baby
daughters in much the same manner that baby girls are murdered
today in other countries.
    “Qais bin Asim was the chief of this tribe.
When Chief Asim embraced Islam, he confessed a dreadful tale to
Prophet Mohammed.”
    *
    “O Messenger of God! A daughter was born to
my wife when I was away from my home on a journey. My wife was
fearful that I might bury the child alive, and after nursing her
for a few days, sent this child to her sister so that she might be
cherished by another. My wife prayed that I might be merciful to
the child when the girl became older.
    “When I came back home from the journey, I
was told that my wife had given birth to a dead child. Thus, the
matter was forgotten. During the time, the child remained being
loved by her aunt. Once I went out of the house for a whole day,
and my wife, thinking I would be out much longer, thought it safe
to call her daughter home and enjoy her company for some time in my
absence.
    “Unexpectedly, I changed my mind and came
home earlier. When I entered my home I saw a very beautiful and
tidy little girl playing in the house. When I looked at her I
suddenly felt a surge of strong and spontaneous love for her within
me. My wife sensed my feelings and thought that my blood had called
to my own blood and my fatherly love and affection had sprung up
naturally for the girl. I asked her, ‘Oh, my wife, whose child is
this? How charming she is!’
    “Then, my wife told me about the truth of the
girl. I could not control my joy and eagerly took the girl in my
arms. Her mother told her that I was her father and she began
loving me dearly, and calling out to me, ‘Oh, my father! My
father!’ At those moments I felt an indescribable pleasure when
this girl child put her arms around my neck and showed me
affection.
    “Days went by in this way and the child
remained being nourished by us and was free from any worry or
discomfort. But there were times when this girl caught my attention
and such thoughts came to my mind: I have to give this girl to
another man in marriage. I will have to bear the insult that
another man will know my daughter as his wife. How will I be able
to face other men, knowing that my honor is ruined when this child
is bedded by a man? These thoughts took hold of my mind and I was
tortured incessantly. At last these thoughts aroused my indignation
and made me devoid of patience with the girl. After some time of
thinking, I decided that I had to do away with the stigma of shame
and humiliation for me and for my ancestors.
    “I decided I had to bury the girl alive. I
could not confide this plan to my wife, so I asked her to get the
child ready, that I was going to take her to a feast with me. My
wife gave the girl a bath, clad her in pretty clothes, and made her
ready for the feast. The little girl was excited, bubbling with
cheerfulness, believing that she was accompanying her father on a
joyful occasion.
    “I left the house with the girl. She was
leaping with joy and pleasure, holding my hand every now and then,
and running ahead of me, prattling to me with squeals of innocent
laughter and gaiety.
    “By this time I had become blind to the girl,
and was impatient to get rid of her as soon as possible. The poor
child was unaware of my sinister intentions and followed me
merrily.
    “At last I stopped at a lonely spot and began
to dig into the ground. The innocent girl was