Radwa Ashour - Granada

“Is that possible?” asked Hasan, as it seemed to him to be wishful thinking.

“It’s very possible, but the one problem is those who call themselves freedom fighters.”

“Freedom fighters?”

“They’re ruining everything,” said Abdel-Kareem.

“How so?”

“With their extremist behavior that only complicates matters.”

Omar elaborated on what his brother just said. “The attacks on the Spanish coasts and the smuggling of emigrants on the one hand, and collaboration with France with the aim of weakening the emperor’s power on the other, reinforce the attitude that the Arabs of the country have no allegiance to the kingdom, and therefore the only solution is forced conversion or expulsion. This makes our task more difficult.”

This was the oddest thing Hasan had ever heard. The people of Granada were afraid to publicize their sympathies with the freedom fighters or their clandestine cooperation with them. It’s true they feigned their support and allegiance to the kingdom, but he never heard that what the freedom fighters were doing harmed the interests of the Arabs. The brothers’ position confused Hasan, and when he retired in solitude to his room that night he thought about it long and hard. After a night of tossing and turning and mulling the matter over and over again, he came to the conclusion that they were correct, especially since they were influential and in a position to be in contact with the nobility and the court officials, or at least with those who were in contact with them.

The day before the brothers were to depart, Omar spoke to Hasan. “Listen, Abu Hisham, we came to you from Valencia to reach an agreement on managing the inn, but apparently the Knower of All Secrets has foreordained something further. We have met you and come to know you well. We have seen your family and told ourselves that there is no finer man with whom we would like to bond through marriage. What do you think?”

Hasan was stunned and speechless. Omar continued, “Your daughters, Abu Hisham, are a credit to our Maker. I have a son, and Abdel-Kareem has two sons. What do you say to that?”

“I would say, with God’s blessing.”

Hands went outstretched and they recited the opening chapter of the Quran. After the initial moment of shock, Hasan began to feel immense satisfaction and joy. Where would he find such noble stock, he thought, with breeding, wealth, knowledge, and influence. He rushed off with the happy news to Maryama but was taken aback by her reaction. She was not pleased, and she screamed in angry protest. “What’s gotten into you, man, that you banish your daughters to some faraway place?”

“Lower your voice! The two guests are still in our house, and it’s not right that they hear this!”

“How can I give my daughters over to a family I know nothing about?”

“It’s a good family, of good stock with wealth and influence. What more could you want?”

“I want to rest assured of my daughters’ safety and security. I want them to visit me from time to time. I want to be able to go to them if need be. How could you, man? Shame on you.”

“Calm down, Maryama, and listen to me. This marriage will protect your daughters from the evil of poverty. Besides, the people of Valencia are not subjected to forced conversion. Your daughters will never be forced to give their children names other than their own, and they won’t have to live their lives practicing one religion in public and another in secret.”

Maryama responded with a scoffing smirk on her face. “Why don’t you marry them off to men from North Africa or Egypt or Arabia?”

“If an honest and decent man from North Africa came and asked for one of my daughters, I would give her to him.”

“I’ll die of grief if my daughters are far from me.”

“Valencia is not that far away. Both countries are ruled by one emperor. Besides, the law that prohibits the Arabs of Granada to travel to other provinces within the kingdom may be changed within a year or two.”

“It’s bad enough you give one away, but why did you give them three?”

“I recited the opening chapter of the Quran, and the matter is settled.” Hasan turned his back to Maryama, closed his eyes and went to sleep. This only increased Maryama’s anger, so she got up and left the room to go and complain to Saleema.

“Saleema…”

“What’s wrong, Maryama?”

“Your brother has lost his mind. I swear to God, he lost his mind. He’s deranged.”

“Calm down and tell me what happened.”

“Those two men who descended upon us like a death sentence.”

“You mean, the guests?”

“Exactly. I wish they had never come to this house and I had never laid my eyes on them.”

“Did they insult Hasan?”

“They asked for three of my daughters to marry their sons.”

“And go to Valencia?”

“Yes, they’re going to Valencia!”

“Why did Hasan give his consent? He may have found the two men to be good people, but who knows if their sons are as good as they?”

“Exactly, who knows? I’m going to Hasan right now and telling him that.” Maryama rushed into the bedroom. Hasan was plunged into a deep sleep, and she woke him up.

“How do you know that the sons are as good as their fathers? They could be evil, drunkards, deformed, or ill-tempered. How could you give three of my daughters to strangers I know nothing about and who’ll take them away to a faraway place where they’ll be miserable?”

Hasan rubbed his eyes as he listened to Maryama. He was still half asleep and couldn’t grasp everything she was saying. When she repeated her argument a third time, he finally understood, and said to her sternly, “Calm down, woman, and let me get some sleep!”

When the news was revealed to the three daughters, they were elated in spite of their mother’s anger and distress. They were going to get married and travel to Valencia where there was going to be a wedding, just like those grand occasions Umm Jaafar never tired of telling them about. There was going to be the trip to the bathhouse, the henna celebration, the ululations, singing, and the banging of the tambourines. It all seemed so exciting, like dreams that come true before you even dream them. The girls’ happiness only increased Maryama’s sadness, which was mixed with scorn and self-pity. She was crying when Ruqaya, her oldest, came to console her. “Why are you crying, Mother? We’ll be together, the three of us. We’ll take care of one another and keep each other company all under one roof. That’s better than if each one of us married husbands unknown to one another, each one living in a separate place and seeing each other only on holidays and special occasions.” Maryama looked at her with tear-soaked eyes but didn’t say a word, but when the thought sunk into her head, she calmed down.

A month later Abdel-Kareem and Omar returned in the company of their mother, their wives, and the three young men. That night when Hasan was alone with Maryama, he asked her, “Has your mind been put to rest now, Umm Hisham?”

He was alluding to the good impression the young men gave to everyone in the family, with their good looks, refined manners, speaking only when spoken to, and doing it intelligently and courteously. Hasan had no idea that his three daughters had fallen in love with the young men as soon as they laid eyes on them. They were attracted by their svelte physiques, their finely chiseled, olive complexions, their black eyes, and the attention and care they gave to their appearances. But what he did know was that his mother, his sister, and even Maryama found no fault whatsoever in them. In fact, Maryama even began to retract from her bitter opposition, although her fears were not appeased.