Read Online The Pearl that Broke Its Shell by Nadia Hashimi - Free Book Online Page B

tolerated it, keeping Zarmina in line with an occasional berating in front of the others.
    Khala Samina was by far the mildest. She was wife to Bobo Shahgul’s youngest living son, Kaka Zelmai. It took about a week for Shekiba to realize that Samina scolded or hit her only in the presence of the other daughters-in-law. When she raised her hand, Shekiba braced herself. Unnecessarily, she realized. Samina put no more weight into her blows than she would to swat a fly.
    She doesn’t want to look weak, Shekiba thought. But now I know she is.
    Shekiba kept to herself, did the work assigned to her and tried to avoid eye contact. She did nothing to invite conversation, although she did provide a good topic for discussions in the house. Summer was a few weeks away when Bobo Shahgul interrupted her scrubbing the floor. Kaka Freidun stood beside her, arms crossed.
    Shekiba instinctively pulled her head scarf across her face and turned her shoulders to face the wall.
    “Shekiba, when you have finished with cleaning this floor, you are to go into the field and help your uncles with the harvest. I’m sure you will appreciate a chance to get fresh air outside and it seems you are experienced with this kind of work.”
    “But I still have to prepare the—”
    “Then prepare it quickly and get outside. It is about time you helped to grow the food that has fattened your face.”
    Kaka Freidun smirked in agreement. This was all his idea. He had watched Ismail’s land reap a harvest that most others would have thought impossible given last season’s pitiful rainfall. It occurred to him that his brother’s daughter-son may have inherited his instincts with the earth. Why not make use of her? After all, there were plenty of women to do the housework. Bobo Shahgul had agreed readily. The clan was in need of a good harvest. There were many mouths to feed and for the first time in years, their debts were growing.
    Shekiba nodded, knowing that the new assignment would not mean a relief from her current ones. Her days would be longer. Khala Zarmina was especially angry about the new arrangement but she dared not contest Bobo Shahgul.
    “There is more to be done here in the house! Bobo Shahgul has forgotten what it means to take care of the cooking and cleaning. I’ve left a pile of clothes in need of hemming and darning for Shekiba -e-shola but I suppose that will all have to wait if she is going to be out in the field during the day. She had better wake up earlier if she’s going to get lunch ready too.”
    The family had quickly embraced her nickname. In Afghanistan, disabilities defined people. There were many others in the village who had such names. Mariam -e-lang, who had walked with a limp since childhood. Saboor -e-yek dista was born with one hand. And if you don’t listen to your father, your hand will fall off just like his, mothers used to warn their sons. Jowshan -e-siyaa, or the black, for his dark complexion. Bashir -e-koor, the blind, had lost most of his sight in his thirties and despised the children who laughed at his stumbling gait. He knew, too, that their parents joined in the snickers.
    Shekiba dried the floor hastily and tightened her head scarf under her chin. She went outside and saw that her uncles were taking a break, leaning against the outside wall and drinking tea that her cousin Hameed had brought out to them. Shekiba turned to assess the progress they had made.
    From this side of the house she could see her home. It looked small in comparison to the clan’s house.
    This is how it felt to watch us.
    She noticed that there were new pieces of equipment in their field and that her father’s tools had been carted over to this side of the land. The house had been emptied. A pile of their belongings lay outside the wall her father had built.
    They’re taking my home. They wanted our land.
    Suddenly, Shekiba realized why it was that Bobo Shahgul had summoned her youngest son after so much time. Her father was