A Woman of the East

Hokitika Guardian, 21 June 1921, Page 3

A Woman of the East

(By Alice Shnmouv). ALEXANDRIA. 1 had not seen Katina Om-Armed for six months. Fa turn bad been our washerwoman for a few years before her third wedlock to Ali, who became Abou-Alimed alter the birth of bis male child. She visited us occasionally and entertained us lor many pleasant hours with her native tales and small talk. She was, like all her race, a woman with a merry heart, contented with her lot and happy in the worship of the only son, who fulfilled all the expectations of apoor working mother.

I met her the other day as 1 was mounting the flight ol stairs leading to the house of a mutual acquaintance, f could hardly recognise the features, once so familiar to me, under the dense borko that covered her face, in thegloom of a covered staircase built some fifty years ago.

She jocularly barred my way with her portly person, and, looking at me with a pair of merry, twinkling black eyes, she said: “Good morning. - You evidently have forgotten me. 1 am Fatma Om-Ahmed.”

“Good morning, Fatma,” I replied after a long, scrutinising look. “Surely time and your black borko have altered you much these last few mouths? “And sorrow too, alas! she added with a deep sigh as she slowly raised her arms to her head and undid her veil.

“You remember my son Ahmed? My little bright boy?’!.# “Yes, L do,” said I. “How is .he getting on? He must be a big boy now! She clasped her hands together, crushing her borko between them. “He is dead—dead! It is five months since a tramway car ran over him. My husband is dead —my loved son also. I have nothing to live for.” “Hut surely,” 1 said, “the company lias paid you an ample indemnity—enough to maintain you? It cannot possibly be otherwise. If they have not, I advise you to appeal to the justice of the courts.”

Fatma Om-Ahmed forgot her grief, and all of a sudden anger and terror blazed in her eyes. She drew her tall figure to its full height and moved a few paces away from me. “An indemnity?”

1 ‘Wily not?” I said soothingly. “What is wrong in my suggestion? That is justice, and everybody, the highest and the lowest in the land, desires justice.”

“Do you really wish me to sell my, son to the infidels? Never! Why, the Christians will claim him in the next world; they will own him by right of purchase; and 1 slmll not be allowed to gaze on his face nor draw him close to my heart in Paradise.” She drew on her borko and rolled her melaya.li round her body, saying softly : “Sell my own son, my adored one, to the Christians! Never! T will not commit such a sill against him Maalesli! ’Tis the will of God which no man can alter and no power can evade. Good morning. May you keep in perfect health!”