ISSUE IV: Mirror of Society

PROSE
Staring up through the tall grasses at the clouds rolling by, Nahla
takes a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of the date palms
swaying gently in the breeze above her. The scent reminds her of
afternoons playing in the fields with her brothers, and the sweet
date pastries her mother made a few weeks ago for her 13th birthday.
Savoring this rare time alone, lying still in the morning
tranquility, she digs her fingers into the earth beneath her, palming its
freshness, as if feeling it for the last time. Her brow furrows. She knows
today is the day everything will change. Today is her wedding day.
***
Nahla could usually be found in these fields, running around
playing games with her brothers, or sometimes with friends from
her village, Al Roda, on the banks of the mighty Nile River in Upper
Egypt. Her family lived on the outskirts of town, on a small plot that
received just enough river run-off to cultivate a variety of vegetables
and dates, which they sold at the village market. Along with her two
brothers, Nahla would help with the planting and harvesting, between
her studies.
Although it hadn’t always been so, all three siblings had
attended school for the past few years. It was the part of her day that
Nahla looked forward to most. There, she could play jump-rope and
handkerchief games with her many friends in the schoolyard, and
they would tease and whisper to each other about boys whenever the
teachers weren’t within earshot. But mostly, Nahla loved her classes –
science, history, and geography in particular – which made her dream
of what life was like in the world beyond her village.
She’d once professed that her favorite book was her geography
textbook – which garnered a chorus of laughter from her classmates
and an approving smile from her teacher. Nahla would often leaf
through it when she’d finished her schoolwork and was waiting for the
other children to finish theirs. Its glossy pages detailed the different
plants, trees, soils, and animals in Egypt and other countries around
the world. Nahla had memorized their names in both Arabic and Latin
– and yearned to learn more about how farmers managed their crops
in other countries. She hoped this knowledge could help her improve
her family’s own way of farming.
This year, the harvest had not been good. Many of the plants
were diseased and the rains were getting fewer and farther between,
which meant ever more frequent trips to the receding riverbed to fetch
water. Beyond the dates and vegetables they farmed, her mother and
father had struggled to put food on the table as there was no money for
milk or meat.
Her parents always seemed to have worried looks etched
across their faces. But that didn’t stop Nahla’s father from telling them
bedtime stories about ordinary men whose hard work and persistence
would be rewarded with bountiful harvests and riches beyond their
wildest dreams. While her brothers always looked on wide-eyed,
arguing about who would be richer when they grew up, Nahla just sat
silently, wondering why her father never talked about ordinary women
getting rich.
A week ago, Nahla’s mother had exceptionally come
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By FILIPP ROMANOVSKI