God Dies by the Nile and Other Novels by Nawal El Saadawi Read Free Book Online Page A

early hour of the day. He got up without a word. His wife, Fatheya, was not like his previous wives. None of them would ever have dared to look him straight in the face, or to say anything inappropriate to him,or compare him to any other man in Kafr El Teen, let alone to a cock which had crowed a few moments earlier, and which she had had the impudence to insinuate was better than he.
    But he no longer cared how she behaved, even if it went as far as putting the cock on an equal level with him. What mattered was that he had succeeded in forcing her to marry him against her will, and obliging her to live with him all these years even though Haj Ismail’s potions and amulets had been totally ineffective in restoring or even patching up his virility.
    The first time he had seen her, he was seated as usual in front of Haj Ismail’s shop. He glimpsed her supple body as she walked along the river bank carrying an earthenware jar on her head. Turning to Haj Ismail, he had whispered, ‘That girl over there. Who’s she?’
    â€˜Fatheya, the daughter of Masoud,’ answered Haj Ismail. ‘Her father is that poor man then. No doubt he would be happy to have me as a member of the family?’
    â€˜Do you mean that you want to marry her, Sheikh Hamzawi?’
    â€˜Why not? I have been married three times and still have no son. I must have a son before I die.’
    â€˜But she is young enough to be one of your grandchildren,’ said Haj Ismail. ‘Besides, how do you know that she will not remain childless like your previous wives?’
    Sheikh Hamzawi bowed his head to the ground in silence, but the rosary beads continued to run uninterruptedly throughhis fingers, impelled by a mechanism of their own. Haj Ismail eyed him with a knowing smile. He burst into a laugh, cut it short abruptly and said, ‘It looks as though the girl has turned your head for you, Sheikh Hamzawi.’
    Sheikh Hamzawi smiled quietly and looked at the village barber with a gleam in his eyes. ‘Verily the look of her revives my spirit. I’ve always longed for the kind of female she is.’
    â€˜Talking of females, female she certainly is. Her eyes seethe with desire. But do you think you can keep her under control, Sheikh Hamzawi? Do you think a man of your age can take her on?’
    â€˜I can satisfy not only her, but her father if necessary,’ retorted Sheikh Hamzawi. ‘It’s only what you have in your pocket that counts where a man is concerned.’
    â€˜What will you do if the years go by and she does not give you a son?’ enquired Haj Ismail.
    â€˜Allah is great, Haj Ismail. I am going through difficult times, but they will soon be over. God will breathe his spirit into me, and give me strength.’
    Haj Ismail laughed out loudly. ‘Those are the kind of things you can say to other people, but not to me, Sheikh Hamzawi. You haven’t stopped complaining to me about your condition. How can Allah give you strength? Are you insinuating that God will…?’
    Sheikh Hamzawi cut him short quickly. ‘Allah can infuse life into dead bones, Haj Ismail. Besides you yourself told me that I can be cured.’
    â€˜But you have not been listening to my advice, nor have you followed the treatment I prescribed to you. You’ve been lending an attentive ear to what the doctors say, and paying through your eyes for their medicines. I told you, doctors know nothing and their prescriptions are useless. But you did not believe me. And now what is the result? You’ve wasted your money and you’re not one step ahead of where you were. Say so, if I’m wrong.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, Haj Ismail, but one cannot learn except at a high price. Now I know all doctors are ignorant cheats, and that the only real doctor in the village is you. From now on I refuse to be treated by anyone else. But you must marry me to Fatheya, the daughter of Masoud. If you do that, Allah will