Princess Sultana's Daughters

feeble explanations for inexcusable deeds.
Thus, Nura’s reaction to Ali’s insensitive statement differed from
those of his other three sisters.
    Ali frowned slightly. He looked out of the
automobile window and then said distantly, “I have divorced
Nada.”
    Nura gasped. “Again?”
    Ali looked at Nura and nodded.
    “Ali! How could you? You promised Nada that
never again would you divorce her!”
    Nada was Ali’s most beautiful and favored
wife. He had married her seven years before, and together they had
had three lovely daughters.
    Under Muslim law, a man’s freedom to divorce
his wife is justified in the Koran. This system of the threat of
divorce constantly looming over her security is most unsettling to
women in my land. It is intolerable that many men stretch this
flexible ruling to the utmost, demanding divorce for the most
trivial causes, causing the continuous social degradation of their
women.
    Women do not have the same options, since a
divorce in a woman’s favor is given only after a thorough
investigation into her life. More often than not, women will not be
allowed to divorce, even when there is just cause. This female lack
of freedom so enjoyed by males creates one-sided, often cruel
methods of male control and power over their women. The words of
divorce slip most easily off the tongue of any man who wishes to
punish his wife. Simply by saying, “I divorce thee,” or “I dismiss
thee,” he sends the woman into exile from her married home, often
without her children.
    Ali, a man rarely in control of his tongue or
his temper, often used divorce as a weapon against his wives.
    I knew that my brother had divorced each of
his wives at least once, and Nada had been divorced twice. More
times than not, once Ali’s anger receded, he would repent the
divorce and retain the wife he had divorced the day or night
before. Ali had this benefit, for men are not only given the option
of divorcing their wives with the greatest of ease but are allowed
to take back the divorce and resume their marriage as if nothing
out of the ordinary had occurred. Under Muslim law, a man is given
this option twice. If he divorces his wife for a third time, the
procedure becomes more complicated.
    In a fit of anger, Ali had divorced Nada for
the third time, and according to our law, he could not resume
marriage with her until she had married another man and had then
been divorced by him. Through his childlike conduct, Ali had
finally and truly divorced himself from the only one of his wives
for whom he felt true affection.
    I tried not to smile as I quoted the Koran,
doing my best to remember every word.
    “ You may divorce your wives twice; after
that you must either retain them with kindness, or put them away
with benefits. If then the husband divorce her a third time, it is
not lawful for him to take her again, until she shall have married
another husband .”
    I stuck my face into the face of my brother
and asked, “Ali, who is Nada now going to wed?”
    Ali glared at me with bulging eyes, and
answered coldly, “La! La! [no, no] Nada has no desire to wed
another!”
    “Ha! Nada is famous within the female
community for her beauty. Once it is known that she is free, many
mothers and sisters will send their sons and brothers to ask for
her. Wait and see!”
    Sara intervened, not wanting our lifelong,
unending feud to lead to a fierce argument in a confined area.
“Ali. What led to this divorce?”
    Ali was clearly embarrassed. He said that the
matter of the divorce was private, but he did ask Sara and Nura if
they would visit with Nada, to convince her that the words were
spoken in haste, and as such, Ali should be given another
opportunity to prove that he had no real desire to divorce her. If
Nada chose to ignore the situation and did not notify the
authorities, then Ali might be able to avoid an order to allow Nada
to leave his home, thereby becoming eligible for another man to
pursue.
    Nura and Sara agreed to speak with Nada.
    The car began to slow down, and Ali peered
through the dark blue curtains and then pointed at the black
assortment of veils, abaayas , and shaylas that were
spread over the seat. “Hurry. Prepare yourselves. We are there,” he
commanded.
    It was a struggle for the four of us to cover
ourselves in the black garb of decency within the small space of
the automobile. Ali had met our private airplane on the tarmac, so
we had not bothered with our required outer coverings until the
last