Home.

She sat there, in the shade of the tree. She wasn’t quite sure which tree it was; all she knew was that it was protecting her from the scorching heat. She looked around, for nothing and no one in particular. To her left lay endless miles of sand; the kind whose boundary you could chase for days, yet it ran away from you as fast as you approached it. After a few weeks you’d start thinking that you’re going in circles. In front of her she saw a cactus. “Hello Mister Cactus” she said. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in days, weeks perhaps, she really didn’t know. “How’re you this fine day?” She stared at the cactus for a reply. Nothing. “What’s your story?” No reply. “You’re shy? I get it. Maybe if I told you my story, you’ll tell me yours?” The cactus stared back at her. Blank. “Okay, well, my name is Adaris. My father is a … well, I don’t think there is a name for what he does and if there is, I’m not aware of it. When I was much younger, not the 14 year old that I am now, I was told that my father owned a spa of sorts. It was right above our house. But it was exclusively for men, and was said to have the best workers in the business. I had 2 brothers and 7 sisters; we were 10 siblings all together. My brothers were allowed to go up there but my sisters and I weren’t. We never questioned it because in our land, women hardly ever step out of the house. In our village, everyone hates having a baby girl and some even kill their own daughters, but my father was different, he adored all his daughters. We had so much fun together, my sisters, my father and I . We’d pillow fight, play tag in our back yard, play hide and seek… our father always had time for us. He kept telling our mother that he wanted to have more daughters and I always marveled at the idea of having more sisters. Our brothers spent most of their day at the spa and never played with me, since they were the eldest two amongst us and I was the second youngest. We sisters used to fight a lot as well. I remember one time, when I was 5 years old; I wore my eldest sister’s dress to see what it would look like on me. We have an age difference of about 8 years, so her dress was pretty long for me, and as I put it on and was trying to walk, it got caught in my shoe and it ripped at the seam. She came charging at me and got me out of the dress as fast as she could. Then she threw the dress on her bed and started screaming at me. She spat out foul words and they stung like venom. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me out of the room and paraded me around the house in my undies. I was so humiliated, I didn’t eat food for two days, I just stayed in my room and cried. Not that it mattered because our house was divided into two wings – the women’s wing and the men’s wing – but I felt as though my privacy had been violated. I swore that I would never speak to her ever again. But a few days later, I heard someone screaming and I rushed to where the noise was coming from. When I reached my eldest sister Nadia’s room, I could hear her scream bloody murder. All my sisters were there. They had gathered outside the door and were staring in horror. I made my way to the front of the crew so I could see what was going on, and I froze. I saw my mother with her slipper in one hand and Nadia’s hair in the other, repeatedly hitting Nadia’s head. She then grabbed Nadia by her neck and hit her head against the wall, all the while screaming curses at her. She told Nadia to get on all fours and brought out her whip; and whipped Nadia’s back until Nadia’s arms caved and she fell on the floor. Her screams and sobs had turned to loud howls. My mother left her there and walked towards the door. We all quickly dissolved and ran away, fearing a similar fate. I lay on my bed, still horrified by what I had seen, wondering what Nadia could’ve done to deserve such a beating. Our mother had always hated my sisters and me. She had wished us dead several times and when she’d get angry, she’d always tell us how she wished that she hadn’t ever given birth to us; that we had no future, no life, ahead of us, because we were girls and girls had no worth. But she had never beaten any of us the way she beat Nadia. Our mother used to spend most of her time at the spa, helping our father do the accounts, so we hardly ever spoke. I wondered if Nadia had said something that might have cause such an outburst, but we were all so scared of our mother, I don’t think any of us had the courage to even look her in the eye, let alone talk back to her. Anyway, I stayed in my room that whole day. I was terrified to even look out of my door. We all assembled for dinner, and Nadia sat next to our father; our mother on the opposite end of the table. My father had helped Nadia put bandages on her wounds and said that she would be okay in no time. All through dinner, none of us uttered a word, and our father kept glaring at our mother coldly. When dinner was over, we helped clean the plates and went to bed. I heard Nadia sob from the room across the hall. I heard her cry till 2 in the morning and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I went to her room and I asked her what had happened. At first she didn’t speak, then she asked me if I knew what a woman’s period was. Me, being a child of only 5, had no idea what she was talking about. Anyway, she explained to me that it was this time in a girl’s life when for a few days every month, she would bleed from her special place, and that it happened when she was ready to have a baby. At that point I was literally in tears. I thought she had gotten pregnant and had brought shame to the family. In our village, the first thing a child learnt was that one mustn’t ever bring shame to the family. My eyes filled up with water and I started calling her names. She slapped me to shut me up and said “I am not pregnant! I just got my first period and when I told Ammi, she started beating me up”. I stared at her, I hadn’t really digested what she had said yet. She asked me to change her bandages and I did. She winced as I put the medicine. Just as I was about to finish, we heard a door open. We looked at each other and I ran across the hall, slipped back into bed and tried to steady my heart beat. Our mother used to take rounds at night when she couldn’t sleep. Once she had found one of my sisters’ awake and she hit her on her knuckles with a wooden stick and sent her back to bed. I prayed quietly, that she hadn’t seen me. I peeked from under my blanket and I saw her open Nadia’s bedroom door. I starting crying, being careful not to make any sounds. Because of me, Nadia was going to get beaten again, I thought. My mother didn’t close Nadia’s door. I saw her step into the room and gently tap Nadia on her shoulder. As soon as Nadia looked up, tears started pouring down her cheeks and she started apologizing and swore she hadn’t done anything wrong. My mother asked Nadia to sit up, and sat next to her, and just hugged her and wept. This was the first time I had ever seen my mother hug anyone! I could see on Nadia’s face that she was as surprised as I was. After about 15 minutes, my mother looked up and Nadia and started saying weird things like ‘ you’re a woman now Nadia. It’s hard to be a woman. I wish you never had to see this day. Life is going to become like hell for you now. You don’t know what it’s like for women in our land. We have no power, no value, no worth. We’re just pieces of meat. I wish I could protect you from what is to come, but I can’t. I only hope you can somehow forgive me. I’m helpless.’ And then my mother held Nadia and wept some more. I fell asleep, and when I woke up the next morning, my 5 year old mind had way too many other things to worry about and the events of the previous night were soon forgotten. That evening, my father bought Nadia a gold watch, and told my mother to take her shopping and to get her some “appropriate clothing”. The week dragged on, with Nadia being treated like royalty by my father. About 9 days after the incident with my mother happened, we were all sleeping in our rooms when I heard a sound. My bedroom over-looked the main gate. I got up and parted the curtains just a tiny bit. I saw the guard open the gate and a car roll in. It looked like one of those really expensive cars, which was a rare sight in our village. I heard our front door open and watched as my father walked out to greet the man who stepped out of the car. They exchanged hugs, and I saw my father gesture towards the door. I looked at the clock in my room; it showed 15 minutes past 2 am. I tip-toed to the staircase and quickly hid under it. I could hear the man and my father talking, as they climbed up the stairs, their voices got clearer. “Is the meat fresh?” I heard the man say. And then he chuckled in and deep and evil way. “Of course it’s fresh! Just nine days old. Give me a minute, I’ll go get it ready”, I heard my father say. I saw our mother lead the man up to the spa and I saw my father go to Nadia’s room. He had a bag with him, and when Nadia stepped out, she was dressed in the most extraordinary silk gown I had ever seen. It was skin tight, and had several layers, and it covered her from her neck to her toes. It looked as though it was extra tight around her chest and it seemed as though her large, perfectly rounded breasts would make the dress rip at the seems. My father asked her to wait in the hall while he got the things for the ceremony ready. I ran to my sister and asked her if she knew what was going on. She seemed excited and said “ Abba says it’s a special ceremony that a girl goes through when she gets her first period. There is a huge feast just for me, with fresh meat, and the most exotic fruits!”. I was in awe. I wanted to see the celebrations, but I somehow willed myself to bed and went to sleep, promising myself that I’d get the details out of Nadia the next morning. I woke up to the sun’s rays streaming through my bedroom window. I got out of bed and ran to Nadia’s room, but it was empty. I went downstairs to find her sitting on the kitchen counter having coffee, her eyes bloodshot and blank. I asked her how the night was and she said that it was a long ceremony and that she was still very tired but that it was definitely not what she had expected. I figured she’d tell me the details later. That night, when I went to my room, my mother was already in Nadia’s room. They were talking in whispers and they were both crying. “He touched me, and I told him to stop but he didn’t. it didn’t feel right Ammi. I screamed, but no one came. He ripped off my clothes and he hurt me Ammi. He hurt me in a way that I didn’t even know I could be hurt in. I’ve never been hurt that bad Ammi. He raped me Ammi. He raped me again and again and again. And no matter how much I pleaded, how much I begged, he didn’t stop. Abba stood there and watched Ammi. He just watched. This man was older than Abba. He hurt me Ammi. He hurt me.” Nadia kept repeating these same words again and again and again. And she kept crying and howling and weeping until she choked on her own tears. Hours later when Nadia fell asleep while crying, my mother just sat next to her and watched her sleep. She bent down and whispered in Nadia’s ear “this is why I wish you girls had never been born, for I knew that this fate awaited you. It’s what I’ve been going through for the last 14 years of my marriage. He exchanges our bodies for money. And we can’t do anything about it, because we’re women. I’m sorry I can’t protect you.” Ammi kissed Nadia’s forehead and went back to her room. The next morning, my father, yet again, treated Nadia like royalty, but this time Nadia winced every time he even looked at her. My father handed Nadia a wad of notes and said “These are your earnings from last night, if you do better, I’m sure you’ll get more.” Nadia’s face went white, she stared at my father in horror, got up from the table and ran to her room. She didn’t come out all day, but was dragged out by my father at night. “You need practice” he said. That night, Salim, my brother, raped her. Nadia was raped by men, every night from then onwards and my father just watched. Sometimes other men would pay him, and they’d watch as well. Nadia was a beautiful girl, and was very well endowed. Sometimes more than 4 men would rape her in the same night. She’d come to her room and cry, and cry, and cry. Eventually, she stopped crying, she stopped caring, she became like a stone. She did what she was told, and she never retaliated. The one time that she did try to retaliate, she was beaten up by our father till she was unconscious. It took her 3 weeks to get okay. As the years went on and as my other sisters got their periods, the same series of events took place. Over and over. Our parents thought that the rest of us didn’t know, but we knew everything. About two weeks ago, I got my period. But I didn’t tell anyone, I just packed my bags and I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I was going, but I just ran. And here I am. Talking to you.” The cactus just stared back at her. “So now it’s your turn mister cactus, tell me. What’s your story?”. Adaris waited for the cactus to reply. “Come on Adaris, it’s time to go home.” She heard a voice. She looked to her right, the direction from which she had come running. She found a pair of feet. She followed the feet to the legs, the legs to the torso and the torso to the face – of her father. “Time to go home.”