over. I will let you know when I have news. the office in Cairo will send me a telegram as soon as Nur arrives.’
‘Why does he have to travel so far away to study? Why couldn’t he attend Comboni College like Nassir did?’ It was a constant refrain.
He took a sip of his coffee.
‘Because Victoria College is superior to any school we have here. It is based on the English public school system. And besides, next year when he finishes, I want him to continue his studies in Cambridge.’
‘Is that in Egypt also?’
He sighed. ‘No. In England.’
‘Even further?’
‘Yes, it is even further and I don’t want any grumbling from you. I have already made a decision.’
She listened to him intently, her eyes never leaving his face. Behind the formality of respect and diffidence, he glimpsed a certain expression. She was looking at him as if he was a precocious child and she was curious to see what he would do or say next. She was only older than him by a few years but in their youth, this age difference had seemed like a decade. He had been shocked when his father ordered him to marry her. Waheeba was a distant relative, the only daughter of an established Umdurman merchant who had become wealthy by trading in Gum Arabic.
Waheeba came into the Abuzeid family with money and business connections. At twenty-one, she was considered a spinster and her family had no hesitation in marrying her off and financing a lavish wedding. Mahmoud, a youth of eighteen, his mind taken up with a fascination for commerce, had hated Waheeba at first sight; hated her because of her dullness and lack of beauty and, most of all, because she was forced on him. Their wedding night was a disaster, a humiliation he had buried deep and did not talk to his friends about. It was almost a miracle that Nassir and Nur were conceived, but their arrival, and the force of the years, eroded his distaste for her, so that on such an afternoon, after he had found fulfilment and success in another marriage, he could share with her the wish that Nur would arrive safely in Alexandria after a good trip. Nassir, though, was the reason he had come to visit her. Nassir, who had not yet returned to Medani.
‘I am reducing his allowance,’ he said to her, ‘until he mends his ways.’
‘But he has his house in Medani to support,’ she protested. ‘And he receives lots of guests. And Fatma will have more children. He said to me—’
Mahmoud didn’t allow her to go further.
‘He has to learn. He is my employee. He works for me, and he is not doing his job. And you know as well as I do how your son is squandering my money!’
She pulled her chin in so that the curves of fat were more pronounced.
‘He is still young. He needs to learn.’
‘No, he is not too young. Don’t defend him. He is the reason I came here today, to tell you that while I am reducing his allowance on one side, I don’t want you giving him money on the other side.’
She shrugged and looked down at her feet.
‘Am I clear in what I am saying? You are not to give Nassir any money, either directly or through his wife or through anyone else. He gets nothing except what I give him and he gets nothing from you. Am I clear?’
Waheeba nodded and said faintly, ‘Fine.’
‘People are beginning to talk,’ he confided in her. ‘It’s shameful. The family’s good name will be affected by Nassir’s delinquency!’ This distressed him to the core. His position in society mattered to him.
Waheeba remained unmoved. She shifted her weight on the angharaib.
‘Allow me just to pay for his daughter’s circumcision. I want to celebrate it in style.’
‘What?’ he bellowed. ‘I will not have such barbarity in this house. I forbid it.’
‘Aji!’ Waheeba slapped her hand on her chest and her voice rose. ‘What kind of talk is this?’
‘It’s modern talk. We need to stop these old customs, which have no basis in our religion and are unhealthy. Besides, it’s against the
‘Why does he have to travel so far away to study? Why couldn’t he attend Comboni College like Nassir did?’ It was a constant refrain.
He took a sip of his coffee.
‘Because Victoria College is superior to any school we have here. It is based on the English public school system. And besides, next year when he finishes, I want him to continue his studies in Cambridge.’
‘Is that in Egypt also?’
He sighed. ‘No. In England.’
‘Even further?’
‘Yes, it is even further and I don’t want any grumbling from you. I have already made a decision.’
She listened to him intently, her eyes never leaving his face. Behind the formality of respect and diffidence, he glimpsed a certain expression. She was looking at him as if he was a precocious child and she was curious to see what he would do or say next. She was only older than him by a few years but in their youth, this age difference had seemed like a decade. He had been shocked when his father ordered him to marry her. Waheeba was a distant relative, the only daughter of an established Umdurman merchant who had become wealthy by trading in Gum Arabic.
Waheeba came into the Abuzeid family with money and business connections. At twenty-one, she was considered a spinster and her family had no hesitation in marrying her off and financing a lavish wedding. Mahmoud, a youth of eighteen, his mind taken up with a fascination for commerce, had hated Waheeba at first sight; hated her because of her dullness and lack of beauty and, most of all, because she was forced on him. Their wedding night was a disaster, a humiliation he had buried deep and did not talk to his friends about. It was almost a miracle that Nassir and Nur were conceived, but their arrival, and the force of the years, eroded his distaste for her, so that on such an afternoon, after he had found fulfilment and success in another marriage, he could share with her the wish that Nur would arrive safely in Alexandria after a good trip. Nassir, though, was the reason he had come to visit her. Nassir, who had not yet returned to Medani.
‘I am reducing his allowance,’ he said to her, ‘until he mends his ways.’
‘But he has his house in Medani to support,’ she protested. ‘And he receives lots of guests. And Fatma will have more children. He said to me—’
Mahmoud didn’t allow her to go further.
‘He has to learn. He is my employee. He works for me, and he is not doing his job. And you know as well as I do how your son is squandering my money!’
She pulled her chin in so that the curves of fat were more pronounced.
‘He is still young. He needs to learn.’
‘No, he is not too young. Don’t defend him. He is the reason I came here today, to tell you that while I am reducing his allowance on one side, I don’t want you giving him money on the other side.’
She shrugged and looked down at her feet.
‘Am I clear in what I am saying? You are not to give Nassir any money, either directly or through his wife or through anyone else. He gets nothing except what I give him and he gets nothing from you. Am I clear?’
Waheeba nodded and said faintly, ‘Fine.’
‘People are beginning to talk,’ he confided in her. ‘It’s shameful. The family’s good name will be affected by Nassir’s delinquency!’ This distressed him to the core. His position in society mattered to him.
Waheeba remained unmoved. She shifted her weight on the angharaib.
‘Allow me just to pay for his daughter’s circumcision. I want to celebrate it in style.’
‘What?’ he bellowed. ‘I will not have such barbarity in this house. I forbid it.’
‘Aji!’ Waheeba slapped her hand on her chest and her voice rose. ‘What kind of talk is this?’
‘It’s modern talk. We need to stop these old customs, which have no basis in our religion and are unhealthy. Besides, it’s against the
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