Alaa al-Aswany - The Automobile Club of Egypt

“Congratulations, Saleha!” he said. “Here’s your divorce.”

I could not take it in immediately, but then I jumped up and threw my arms around him and kept repeating, “Thank God! Thank God!” I started crying, and a few minutes later my mother came in to congratulate me. It occurred to me that the last thing I had expected when I married Abd el-Barr was that my marriage would turn into such a nightmare that we should all be celebrating the divorce.

My mother then asked Mitsy if she had ever eaten fatta.

“I’ve heard of it,” Mitsy answered.

“Well, I’m going to make fatta with beef,” my mother said.

“Mother!” Kamel laughed. “I have to warn you. Mitsy is English, and her digestion might not be up to Egyptian fatta !”

Mitsy dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand as my mother put her arm around her saying, “Nonsense. I’m sure that she’ll love it.”

We had a wonderful evening. I laughed like I had never laughed in my life. Mitsy looked lovely in a flannel galabiyya with her hair pulled back as she stood in the kitchen helping my mother with the fatta. We ate and then drank cup after cup of tea, celebrating until the dawn call to prayer. Kamel went off to his bedroom, and Mitsy went to mine. I did my ablutions, and my mother and I said some extra prayers of thanks before our morning prayers. I slept more deeply than I had done for a long time.

The following day, I woke up after the noon call to prayer and found another surprise. Mitsy was in the sitting room, her suitcase in front of her and Kamel sitting next to her. My mother told me that Mitsy was leaving our home because she had found an apartment. I was shocked. Without thinking, I said, “Even if Mitsy has found an apartment, she should stay on with us.”

My mother kissed Mitsy on her forehead and said, “We’d like you to stay with us.”

Mitsy looked at us with gratitude in her eyes and said, “I don’t want to leave you either, but I have to. I’ll visit you all the time. My apartment in Garden City isn’t far away. Saleha, you can bring your books and study in peace and quiet.”

I embraced her again, and Kamel said, “We have to be off now. I asked for an hour off work so that I can take Mitsy to her apartment.”

It was an emotional farewell. Fighting back tears, Mitsy said, “Thank you. I will never forget what you have done for me.”

Kamel picked up the suitcase as Mitsy dragged him by the other hand.

“Why all the drama?” he asked playfully. “Mitsy’s new place is only ten minutes away by taxi. You can go and see her every day.”

With my divorce, a new stage of my life started. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I decided to apply for university and realize my father’s wishes. I studied my heart out, and my mother devoted herself to looking after me. She excused me from doing any housework. Kamel signed me up with two private tutors, and though I felt bad about his paying so much, he reassured me, saying, “Thank God our financial situation has improved. The most important thing is that you pass your exams.”

I felt like a trooper plunging into battle. I would wake up at dawn, and after a hot shower and breakfast, I would sit down at my desk and study until midnight. I only took breaks to say my prayers, and my mother brought me endless cups of tea and sandwiches. I went to visit Mitsy in her apartment at least once a week, and she visited us a lot too. In spite of being exhausted from studying, I felt confident and optimistic. I no longer thought of what I had been through at the hands of Abd el-Barr.

Aisha told me, “Don’t look back! Forget that snake, Abd el-Barr. I’ll get you married off to the best man in Cairo. You’ll see!”

“The most important thing,” I replied, “is for me to pass my exams and get into university.”

Aisha let out a resounding laugh and said, “Well, education may be really important, but in our society no woman can do without a husband.”

My brother Said no longer visited us, excusing himself by saying that he had to stay close to his pregnant wife, but we knew that he was punishing us for my divorce. We learned from Aisha that Abd el-Barr had decided not to go into business with him. I tried to console my mother by telling her that Said could not do without his mother and siblings and that eventually he would come around. Unfortunately, deep down, I rather enjoyed his absence. We had a carefree existence for a while, although I don’t even remember how long it lasted — three or four weeks maybe.

Then that night arrived. It was after three in morning, and I was in my bedroom engrossed in my mathematics problems when I heard a sound in the hallway. I thought it was Kamel coming home. The noise got gradually louder, and I heard footsteps. I realized that something strange was happening. I got up and listened through my closed door. The hubbub was getting closer, and then suddenly I heard my mother shout, “No one is to go near my daughter!”

The lights went out, and Mahmud could not see a thing. Alarmed, he called out, “What’s going on?”

In the darkness, Fawzy laughed. “You frightened? Pull yourself together, Mr. Mahmud!”

“But what’s wrong with the lights?”

“Didn’t I just tell you that Tafida has got a surprise for us!”

“And is that surprise,” asked Mahmud sarcastically, “leaving us in the dark?”

“Just be patient, man!” Fawzy laughed.

A few minutes passed in the pitch-black. Mahmud flicked his cigarette lighter, which gave off a dull light as he groped his way toward the front door.

“Look, Fawzy. You and Tafida can play around as much as you like, but I’m going.”

“Just wait a moment!” Fawzy shouted back.

Mahmud hesitated, and before he could decide what to do, the lights suddenly came on. Mahmud shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, he saw a strange sight. Tafida al-Sarsawy was standing in the middle of the room dressed as a belly dancer. Two skimpy pieces of cloth decorated with beads and sequins covered her chest, and she had a piece of cloth tied around her waist as a belt, showing off her scrawny body. The sight of her, nearly naked, in the belly dancer costume was pitiful. Her tired face caked with makeup, her bony body with its sagging flesh and flat chest were all a rather sad memory of femininity. It looked as if she had not been able to find a costume in her own size and was swimming in this one. Mahmud was beset by conflicting emotions as he watched Tafida in her outfit. He let out a laugh, which Tafida interpreted as one of admiration as she continued her little show. She held her arms up and twirled around.

“What a temptress! You’re such a tease!” Fawzy called out.

Mahmud burst out laughing, and Tafida looked at him.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“It’s beautiful,” replied Mahmud, trying to suppress his laughter.

Fawzy got up and poured two glasses of whiskey, one for himself and one for Mahmud, then went over to Tafida, patting her on the backside.

“I want to watch you dance!”

Tafida walked over to the gramophone and put on a record, and Fawzy started clapping enthusiastically. It was a piece that Samia Gamal used to dance to, but as Tafida nervously quivered through it, it was as if she were in spasms. Fawzy was clapping in time with the music and looking at Mahmud, egging him on to join in. Mahmud clapped feebly, but he could not help sitting back in the chair and laughing. Tafida was now in the full swing of her show and kept dancing until the record was finished. Sweat was running down her face, and she was out of breath. Fawzy and Mahmud applauded as Tafida made a stagy bow and then turned the record over and started dancing again. Mahmud had stopped laughing and was starting to find the whole spectacle rather tedious. The music stopped, and Fawzy jumped up.