A Father's Betrayal Read online

  It turned out Dad decided he couldn’t take any more arguing and kept Yas in the fields with him that night. This became a regular thing for Yas, she would argue with our Grandparents because she would refuse to do housework, then she would storm off and stay in the fields with Dad, sometimes staying all day and night.

  Dad even allowed Yas to walk back and forth from the house to the fields carrying his rifle! Our grandparents and other villagers were furious with Dad for allowing Yas to behave this way, saying Dad treated her more like a boy than a girl. But I suppose Dad thought it was easier for him to let her stay with him for a while if it meant he got some peace and quiet!

  It was only a few weeks after Dad arrived that Nebat came to visit. It was in the evening and we were all sat in the room when we heard a car pull up outside. When Gran opened the window to check who it was, we heard a whisper.

  “It’s Nebat!” Gran said excitedly, rushing downstairs to open the door. Nebat came up and greeted us all. She was with her husband Ahmed and after they said hello to us, our grandparents and Ahmed rushed upstairs to discuss something.

  We could tell by the commotion and the atmosphere of the house that something else was going on other than just Nebat visiting but Nebat wouldn’t say anything. Gran called Farouse upstairs and after a while Farouse came back down all happy and excited.

  “My dad’s here!” she whispered. “He’s hiding in the village but he will be here shortly.”

  Uncle Nasser had come from Aden to Sanaa and had been hiding in Nebat’s house. Now he got a lift with them to Granddad’s house, but had got out of the car way before entering the village so as not to be recognised; he wasn’t coming to the house until he knew the villagers would be asleep.

  Uncle Nasser was a ‘guerrilla’, an enemy of the South and not allowed in the South of Yemen; if caught he would be killed. Just being in Granddad’s house was a risk to everyone, so we all needed to keep his visit top secret.

  When staying in Granddad’s house, Uncle Nasser stayed hidden in the little room that was cut off from the guest room on the top floor. He only left the house in the middle of the night to meet up with other members of his guerrilla group. Gran’s brother was one of the main leaders of this group and she did everything she could to assist when one of them came to the village.

  This was the first time that Uncle Nasser had visited since we arrived in the village, so Granddad wanted to make sure we knew to keep our mouths shut. He came to the room to make it clear to us the trouble we would all be in if anyone found out he was staying. He told us all our family could end up in prison or dead, putting his fingers to his head and pretending to pull a trigger to scare us! I already hated Uncle Nasser from our time in Aden, this information only made me hate him even more!

  We chatted to Nebat while lying in our beds trying to sleep, although none of us could even close our eyes because we were anxiously awaiting Uncle Nasser’s arrival. Hours passed, then we heard Gran go downstairs and open the front door. We didn’t hear a knock because he didn’t knock on the door. He didn’t want to make a noise because the door knobs were huge and made of heavy metal, so he threw a stone at Granddad’s window.

  We could hear their voices as they disappeared upstairs. Farouse wasn’t allowed to see her dad that night; she said she never did see him the night he arrived because he spent time with our grandparents, but she would see him the next morning. The next morning we were told not to disturb him and to get on with the chores as if he was not there; if he needed anything he would ask and Farouse would see to him.

  We spent the morning doing chores with Nebat; she was a guest but she got stuck in as if she had been with us all along. She was Gran’s favourite because Gran had brought her up since she was a baby after Dad had gone off and left her behind and her mother remarried. Gran always compared everyone to her, even Farouse. She would constantly be going on at us all, “Watch your sister Nebat, look how well she cooks, look at the way she does this or that!” Gran drove us mad but we all loved Nebat and she would always apologise for Gran’s behaviour, telling us:

  “She only does it because she cares for us all so much and wants us to be the best!”

  We felt sorry for Nebat, she had been married since she was around 11 years old but she had been unable to have children. She told us how she had tried everything she could to have children but it wasn’t to be. She also did not know her real age because birth certificates are not issued in Yemen, but she thought she was in her late 20s.

  Usually when females cannot get pregnant after a few years of marriage their husbands remarry, but her husband refused to do this to her because he loved her. We liked Ahmed after we found this out about him; he was funny and goofy and was always joking about!

  Uncle Nasser woke up about midday and made his presence known; he was demanding and arrogant ordering us about. “Get me this and get me that.”

  I watched as Farouse ran around tending to her father’s every need. I could see she adored her father and looked for his approval, but to him she didn’t really exist other than to be a slave and do as she was told. I hated the way he treated her, and my face couldn’t hide my contempt for him.

  Dad came home from the fields and was happy to see his brother. He stayed home that afternoon and chewed ghat with him until early evening, then he went back to the fields. After Dad left, Farouse and I were told to go upstairs and clean up the ghat stalks off the floor while Uncle Nasser sat downstairs.

  While we were cleaning I noticed a bottle of whiskey tucked in between the mattresses on the side of the room. I was shocked because I knew that alcohol was banned in the Yemen, and Muslims were forbidden to drink it.

  “Look at this!” I whispered holding it up for Farouse to see. Farouse had a look of fear in her face as she rushed over and snatched the bottle out of my hand, returning it to its place while looking behind her to make sure her father wasn’t coming back upstairs!

  “Leave it alone and pretend you didn’t see it, please, you can’t say anything to our grandparents, promise me!” she begged, but I was so angry.

  “No, why should I? He shouldn’t be drinking, it’s not fair that he gets away with breaking the rules but we have to do as we are told!” As we were talking, Uncle Nasser walked back in the room all smiley and happy because he had been chewing ghat.

  “All clean up here?” he asked in a cheerful voice while swinging his bad arm back and forward as he did when he walked. Many years earlier he had been shot in the shoulder while fighting in the mountains; because he hadn’t been able to get medical help, he had more or less lost all the use of his left arm. His hand had formed into a claw like shape, and he was unable to grip anything. But because he could bend it from the elbow he had one hell of a swing to it!

  “Yeah all clean, should I throw this away?” I asked as I took the bottle of whiskey from between the mattresses and held it up in front of him. I saw the colour drain from Farouse’s face as Uncle Nasser snatched the bottle from my hand and chucked it on top of the mattresses.

  “What do you think you are doing, you stupid girl!” he growled.

  “Me? You’re the one drinking alcohol! Maybe I should see what Granddad thinks about this?” I threatened as I turned to leave the room. But before I could exit the door Uncle Nasser grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall, holding me by my neck.

  I could hear Farouse begging her dad to stop but he told her to shut up and sit down, which she did without question.

  “Maybe you would like to find out what happens to stupid little girls who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut?” he threatened, squeezing my throat.

  My eyes welled up with tears. I had a horrible feeling in my stomach as all sort of thoughts flashed through my mind imagining what he was about to do to me! My mind was telling me to fight back, but my body felt paralysed. Then all of a sudden he let me go and shoved me towards Farouse, who was cowering in the corner. “Take your stupid cousin downstairs and teach her how to behave,
” he demanded.

  Farouse grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room, down to the kitchen; we were both shaking as she begged me not to say anything to anyone. She warned me that her father had a very nasty temper sometimes and even if I told Granddad, nothing would change. She said Granddad would always take his son’s side, always! She warned me not to go up against her father because I would be the one who got hurt because I was a girl, and that’s just how it was.

  I went downstairs and told my sisters what had happened. They were fuming with me for confronting Uncle Nasser like I’d done and even more upset with him for what he had done to me. It took a lot of persuading to make them let the matter go, because like Farouse said, her father had a temper and we had no idea what would happen if we approached him about his behaviour, or told on him.

  The next few days we all tried to stay out of Uncle Nasser’s way. Every night he would sneak out of the house and not return until early morning, then sleep until lunch time. When he was awake, Farouse attended to his every need; if anyone needed to go upstairs to help her, one of my sisters would go with her, that way I wouldn’t have to be alone with him.

  We spent a lot of time with Nebat. She told us about her other family. Nebat’s mother had remarried and had another family that lived in a village close by. Nebat was allowed to visit her mother now that she was married and settled. However, when she was growing up as a child she wasn’t allowed to see her mother after her mother remarried. This is a custom in Yemen. If a woman is separated from the husband for whatever reason, divorce or his death, if she remarries, she must leave behind any children she had with that man and never contact them unless the father agrees. If the father died then the next of kin (male) from the father’s family makes the decisions on behalf of that child. Because Dad left, going to England with no intention of returning, his marriage to Nebat’s mum got dissolved in his absence, which allowed Nebat’s mum to remarry. Nebat lived with our grandparents but wasn’t allowed to see her mum, even though she lived less than half hour walk away from her. After Nebat married she became the ‘property’ of her husband; Ahmed then allowed her to see her mother whenever she wanted to.

  It must have been difficult for Nebat after Dad’s return because Dad showed no affection towards her, not that he showed us any affection anymore either, but to him it was as though she never existed. She told us she was close with her mother now and had a really good relationship with her; she also had a half-sister from her mother’s side.

  On the day Nebat was going to visit her family we asked if we could go with her; although Dad was OK with this, Gran put her foot down and said no. We were so angry with Gran because it seemed like Dad did whatever she told him to do, it was as if he no longer had a mind of his own.

  Nebat’s visit to the village was short but sweet, and we missed her terribly when she went home. One thing we were happy about when she left was that she took our nasty Uncle Nasser with her.

  We picked up the Arabic language very quickly; maybe it was because other than us sisters, nobody spoke English. Even Dad and Uncle Mohammed had started refusing to speak to us in English, unless they were shouting at us and really needed to get their point across. We would get told off if we were caught talking to each other in our mother language, but we would always ignore them.

  We made many friends in the village, mostly young girls we met on our way to the fields or girls we met at afternoon gatherings. We would all meet up and walk together to fetch water, or go to do our washing together.

  It was on a visit to the fields one day that I noticed one of the young girls called Ilham was missing from the group; she would always meet up with us but for the past few days I hadn’t seen her so I asked Farouse where she was. Farouse told us Ilham was being ‘prepared’ for marriage; we wouldn’t be seeing her until her wedding day, which was in a few days.

  I was in shock Ilham looked younger than us but Farouse told us it was normal for girls her age to be married. Girls that are being prepared for marriage are not allowed to leave the house from the time of their engagement until their wedding, they are kept at home to be pampered and ‘fattened’ up to look good for their wedding day.

  To make their skin look good they took a yellow powder (turmeric) added with a greener power, and then added a sprinkle of water or oil to make a thick paste out of it. Then they put this on to their faces, like a face mask. They did the same to their hands, arms and feet. This paste is left on day and night and if it came off it was retouched. This is supposed to make the skin look ‘whiter’. They are also not allowed to work or put their hands in water, or go out in the sun. They are only allowed to do light work around the house.

  The day of the wedding celebrations arrived and we were woken by gun shots. I nearly had a heart attack! I thought there was some sort of war happening, because it wasn’t just one or two bullets but lots of bullets going off at once! Farouse reassured us that it was just the wedding party playing with their guns and celebrating. She told us this would be happening a lot over the next few days and not to worry.

  Gran went off after breakfast to help the bride’s family prepare food for their guests. On that day the groom’s father and all the elders of the village, amongst other male family members, got together over dinner. The elders’ wives and female family members all got together to help prepare and cook the food at the bride’s house. Sometime during this dinner the groom and bride’s fathers, together with the elders of the village, would ‘seal the deal’ and the wedding would officially begin.

  After dinner all the males went to a neighbour’s house to chew ghat and celebrate, while the females started to gather at the bride’s house for their own celebrations. We finished our own dinner that day and got ready to go, Farouse excitedly chatted away letting us know what to expect.

  She told us all the women dressed up in their best clothes to go to weddings, but I couldn’t really imagine what ‘nice’ or ‘best clothes’ she could be referring to. As we made our way to the wedding I was shocked to see some of the women walking about the village covered up wearing their ‘sharsharfs’. In Aden the long black coat is called abaya but here in the South it’s called a sharsharf.

  This was the first time we had seen women cover up since being in the village. The only time they covered up was when they needed to go into the city. Farouse told us it was because they were wearing makeup, and lots of jewellery, so were not allowed to be seen in public like that.

  When we got to the house we were surprised at how different the women looked! The sharsharfs came off and we saw that every female was trying to outdo the next! The young girls and little girls that were still unmarried were dressed a little cleaner with their best dresses on, but no makeup or jewellery. However, the married women had on very colourful dresses, which most had sewn especially for that occasion.

  The more colourful and thicker, or heavier the material, the more expensive it was! Some of these dresses were long and dragging on the floor called ‘maxies’, whilst others were short, much shorter than the ones we wore daily. The trousers they wore with the short dresses were flared and baggier.

  Their faces were layered in makeup, way too much makeup! The face foundation was a pure white powder that would have made them look as white as ghosts, if it wasn’t for the rest of the makeup. The eye shadow was colourful, way up to their eyebrows, the blusher a big pink circle in the middle of their cheeks and the lipstick was red and layered thick! Many of them had a black line that started at their forehead and went straight down over the nose, lips and chin and finished at their necks!

  They had these cardboard crowns that were covered in a thin piece of cloth that allowed it to be tied to the back of the head; the cloth also had stones stuck to them that looked like shiny little diamonds, although they were obviously not diamonds! These ‘crowns’ allowed their hair to flow both under and over the crown to give their already beautiful thick long hair even more volume.

  At the top of the room was a
throne-like seat made up for the bride. Once all the women were seated and the music was playing, the bride was brought into the room amidst whistles from the women. These were not normal whistles, these were noises made from the women shaking their hands against their mouths and making a high pitched scream that sounded like a long on-going whistle! We couldn’t see an inch of Ilham’s body or face as she walked to her throne and sat on it, she was covered in a sharsharf and black veil. She wasn’t allowed to show herself until her formal wedding, the next day.

  The women danced and drank their teas all afternoon. The dance was a step dance made of five or six steps repeated over and over again. They danced until someone else got up and took over from whoever was on the floor at the time, usually in groups of two, three or four at a time. Ilham didn’t move from her spot or drink anything and when we left a few hours later she was still sat on her throne!

  The next day the celebrations got bigger. Every male in the village got invited for food at the bride’s house. Her husband was from another village and he too would have been having big celebrations that day. For the bride, this was the day she got shown to the females of the village in her white gown.

  She would go to her husband’s house the following morning, that’s where the biggest celebrations took place and where she would be put on display to him and his village. When we went that afternoon for the gathering, there were even more women than the day before. The room and landing were full and everyone wanted to see Ilham in her wedding dress.

  The bride came in escorted by a woman known as ‘Al Mouzayna’, a professional women who is called in to ‘help and guide’ the bride. Ilham was covered from head to toe in a huge white wedding gown and white veil. Once she was sat on the throne, Al Mouzayna uncovered her veil and adjusted her gown to show off the entire bride’s gold. She also exposed her hands and feet to show off the henna and negsha (black ink) art work that she herself had done on the bride.