Princess Sultana's Daughters

status in all
societies. Instead of attaining honor for being the producer of
life, we are penalized!
    To my mind, this fact is the scandal of
civilization!
    Abdullah, whose favorite instructor at school
was a Lebanese philosophy professor, showed off his knowledge by
giving us a history lesson on women’s slow climb from the beginning
of life until the present moment. Women had been nothing more than
beasts of burden in the earlier days, tending to the children,
gathering wood for the fire, cooking the meals, making the clothes
and boots, and working as pack animals when the tribes were on the
march. The men, Abdullah said, risked themselves in the capture of
the game, and their reward for providing the tribe with meat was to
rest the remainder of the time.
    Teasing his sisters, Abdullah flexed his
muscles and said that brute force kept men at the fore, and if his
sisters were truly interested in equality, they should work out
with his weights in our exercise studio, rather than reading books
in their spare time.
    Kareem had to restrain our daughters, to keep
them from piling on top of their brother. Maha dodged her father’s
arms and gave a kick to Abdullah’s private parts, and Kareem and I
both were astonished at her knowledge of his weakest area.
    I smiled at the antics of my children, but
nevertheless my heart was gloomy as I thought of how we women had
suffered from the moment of creation. From the beginning of time,
we were used as slaves to do the work, and now that practice
continued in many countries of the world. In my own country, women
are considered nothing more than objects of beauty, sexual toys for
the enjoyment of our men.
    I have personal knowledge that women are the
equal of men in endurance, resourcefulness, and courage, but I am
ahead of my time in the backward land of Arabia.
    Kareem became quiet. Then he broke the
silence and said that he was remembering his old friend Yousif, and
the wrongful path he had chosen.
    I became pleased that Kareem had witnessed
Yousif’s disintegration as a civilized man, for it was as if by
recognizing the evil that sprouts and take holds in society when
such men gain power, my husband finally became what I wanted him to
be.
    Kareem mulled over his thoughts. “Sultana,
you know, it is unsuccessful men such as Yousif who mold the myth
that women are the root of all evil. I know now that although this
inaccurate opinion of women is attractive to men, it creates a
paralyzing disillusionment that only forms a hateful barrier
between the two sexes.”
    Kareem looked at his son and said, “Abdullah,
I hope you will never accept such obstinate resistance to the worth
of women. It will be up to your generation to abandon the
subjugation of women. I am sad to say that the men of my generation
have given new form to women’s oppression.”
    I could only imagine what my daughters were
thinking, but Maha seemed bewildered and angry that she had been
born into a society so reluctant to adjust to social change, while
Amani, so recently immersed in her consoling faith, appeared
burdened by the traditional sanctions that favor the subjugation of
women.
    Weary of men such as Yousif and of the life
they envision for women—all of whom they consider wicked and
therefore strive to control—I could not reconcile myself to the
dark years ahead when women would be forced to protect themselves
from the growing movement of the extremists who called so loudly
for their banishment from normal life.
    As I prepared myself for bed, I felt that the
sparkle had gone from the occasion of Haj. This, in spite of
Kareem’s newfound philosophy that spoke of enlightened liberation
within the confines of our family.
    The following morning our faces were drawn
from our late evening. Silent throughout our morning meal, we
prepared ourselves for the most important day of Haj.
    We were driven five miles north to the hill
of Arafat. This was the place where Prophet Mohammed had delivered
his final sermon. Four months later he was dead.
    Disheartened, I barely moved my lips as I
uttered the words of the Prophet, “You have to appear before your
God, who shall demand from you an account of all your actions. Know
that all Muslims are brothers. You are one brotherhood, no man
shall take from his brother unless by his free consent. Keep
yourselves from injustice. Let him who is present tell this to him
who is absent. It may be that he who is told this afterward may
remember it better than he who has