Two Times a Victim

This story is a work of fiction. I do not claim it to be fact or even resemble fact.

A warm breeze blew off the sea, bringing the scent of salt to Zahra’s nose. The weather was mild for this time of year, only 33°C. Somewhere she heard a cuckoo bird calling. She always loved the sounds and smells of nature. Allah be praised, for allowing her to grow up in such a bustling city like Kismayo. Things had changed some in Somalia since the war; the sound of gunfire was heard as often as the sound of birds. But walking in the grace of Allah, very little had changed in Zahra’s life.

She hurried down the path; the sun was setting and she didn’t want to be out after dark. She knew nana would worry about her. But it wasn’t only her grandmother’s worry that hurried her feet. The maraq, she had for lunch was beginning to wear off. The stew was delicious and the homemade lahoh bread that she had with it was filling. But, that was still almost four hours ago she ate that. Tonight’s dinner would be ful medammas, delicious slow-cooked beans probably served with more of nana’s lahoh. Her belly grumbled and she quickened her feet down the path.

“Hey girlie! Halkan imoow!” Come here!

Turning around in confusion Zahra barely saw the three men in the shadows beckoning her. Standing under the shade of massive garbi tree, the three men were dressed in traditional garb.

“No! I must go.” Zahra shouted over her shoulder. She wasn’t usually so impolite to strangers. But something about the men gave her a feeling of unease.

“Istaag ama waan ku tooganayaa!” Stop or I’ll shoot.

Fear gripped Zahra’s spine. Slowly she turned around and sure enough the three men were advancing to her and one of them was holding a gun. Tears welled up in Zahra’s eyes. Islam taught you not to fear death, but she did not want to die here, shot by these men on this road.

“Please, xabad ha ridin!” Don’t shoot, she begged.

“Shut up! I soo daba soco!” Follow me, the gunman demanded.

Closing her eyes tightly Zahra uttered a quick prayer to Allah for delivery from these monsters. But when she opened them again nothing had changed.

“Move bitch!” One of the other men grabbed her wrist and pulled her off the road. Allowing herself to be pushed and pulled, Zahra closed her eyes again. This couldn’t be happening. Zahra faced Mecca and said her prayers every time the call went out. She was never indecent, and she respected her elders. There was only one time when she wished something bad for nana. But it was only because she wouldn’t let her go to Nadira’s house to play. With tears leaking down her eyes, Zahra prayed an apology for everything wrong she’d ever done or thought.

Her tear-stained confession was brought to an end when she realized she was no longer moving. Fearfully she opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize the area she was in. It seemed like a back alley behind one of the shipyards at the docks. But she had never been there before.

“Take off your clothes girl!” This was the third man. His voice sounded much younger than the other two. The scarf that all three of the men wore to cover their faces had slipped down and Zahra could see this assailant clearly. She realized, looking at his face that he was only a few years older than her, sixteen at most. She thought his face was handsome. At another point she could imagine that being the face of her husband.

“Shit, she’s seen my face.” He cried as he pulled the scarf hastily back over his nose and mouth.

“Aamus! Is deji” Be quiet, and calm down, replied the man holding the gun.

“Dib u jeeso, girl!” Obediently, Zahra turned around.

Maybe if she listened they would leave her alone. Maybe, they would just take her money. Nana had given her 20 shilling this morning to buy groceries for papa. She had already brought the groceries but she still had change, about 6 shilling. Maybe they would just take that and leave her.

“I have money. Please take that and leave me.” She begged her voice hoarse from fear and tears.

“Oh we don’t want your shilling, girl. We own this town. No we want something much more precious. We see you walking by, flaunting your goods. We know you’re an easy girl. And we’re here to take our due” said the man who had pulled Zahra into the alley.

Zahra had no idea what the man was talking about. ‘Flaunting her goods?’ She’d made sure that when she brought the groceries from market that no one saw her. What was he talking about?

“I…” she began.

“SHUT UP!” Roared the man with the gun. She felt the barrel of it pressing into her back. “Now, take off your clothes.”

Zahra panicked. She did not know what these men were or what they wanted but she knew that she should never be undressed with a man who was not her husband.

“I CAAWIN!” Help me, Zahra yelled at the top of her lungs. She was pleading for anyone to help her, to stop this madness.

“Shut her up, before she brings the whole city down on us.”

This is it, she thought. Zahra felt the barrel of the gun move from her back. Suddenly sharp pain flashed across her head as the back of the gun smashed into it. She collapsed against the brick wall. The last thing she remembered was the face of the sixteen year old whose scarf had slipped off his face again. Then the blackness consumed her.

When Zahra woke up her whole body hurt. All that was left of her clothing was her hijab and even that was pulled off her head allowing her hair to spill around her face. For a moment Zahra was dazed, she couldn’t remember where she was or why she was there. Then the memories hit her like a hammer. She barely suppressed a scream of despair. Silent tears leaked down her face. Pain and shame flooded through her body and all she could do is ball up and wrap her arms around her knees and cry.

Zahra wasn’t sure how long she sat there rocking back and forth tears streaming out her eyes; her body on fire from head to toe. At one point she was surprised to see blood flowing down her leg. She thought she must have cut herself, but then she realized she was bleeding from her private area. All she could do was cry more and pray that Allah would forgive her. Allah would have to understand she did not want to lay with them. She wanted to save herself for marriage. Allah was merciful, he would not punish her.

“Hey you girl,” Zahra looked up at the man approaching her “what are you doing there?”

“Help me, please I need help.” Zahra’s voice was weak and unsteady. Her throat was raw from crying.

As the man came closer, he cursed. “Girl you’re naked Allah in heaven, what are you doing?”

“Please help me. I was… attacked” Zahra’s voice was steadier, but she could not admit more to herself.

Suddenly the man’s demeanor changed.

“Attacked?” he sneered. “Oh sure girl, attacked. I know your kind. You loose women entice men and then claim you were ‘attacked.’ No I won’t fall for your lies. By Allah, I will not. Get yourself dressed girl. The magistrate will know what to do with you.”

Zahra did not understand the man’s change in attitude but the magistrate would help her. She would throw herself on the mercy of Allah and his justice would prevail.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

A warm breeze blew off the sea, bringing the scent of salt to Zahra’s nose. The weather was mild for this time of year, only 33°C. Somewhere she heard a cuckoo bird calling. Draped in ceremonial black, her wrists bound behind her back and a thin black hood pulled over her face Zahra was lead to her death. She could not cry anymore. For two weeks she was held in a small room fed only moldy bread and sea water. She simply stumbled blindly as she was pushed on to her execution.

“Please,” she began weakly “I’m innocent.”

“Shut your filthy slut mouth!” A guard barked at her as he simultaneously jabbed his gun into her back.

Zahra stumbled and would have fallen if another guard hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her upright.

“No falling, girl. Today is the day you face Allah’s wrath for being a slut.”

That voice! Zahra knew she was going to die but she was not crazy; that voice.

She was being led to her death by the very man who held a gun to her back two weeks ago; the very man who had stripped her of her virginity.

The insanity of it all; before she knew what happened she was chuckling and that grew into a full-blown laugh. Here she was going to die for lying with a man out of wedlock and the man taking her to her death was the one who forced himself on her. She laughed until it hurt and then as suddenly as the laughter began, it turned to tears.

“NO, I don’t want to die! PLEASE, ALLAH FORGIVE ME!” She wailed. Throwing herself on the ground she cried and screamed, until she felt herself physically being lifted.

She was still wailing when she was dropped down into hole in the earth. It covered her legs and up to her mid-torso, leaving her upper body unburied. She felt the dirt packed in around her “planting” her like some sort of flower. Even her arms were left free, to be her petals and leaves.

The hood was removed from head and she had to blink at the bright sun. Looking around she saw 50 men standing in a circle around her and beyond that ring, another hundred or so there to watch her die.

The magistrate stepped forward from the circle in his full clerical attire.

“This woman, by her own admission, has lain with men out of wedlock.” The magistrate paused and the crowd jeered. The subtle inflection had reached its target. The crowd truly believed her to be a wanton woman.

Zahra noticed a man walking around the crowd distributing sacks of fist-sized stones to those in the inner circle. He couldn’t be much older than her, sixteen at most. In another life she may have found his face handsome. In another life when she thought she was going to have a husband.

“In accord with the Law of Allah,” the judge continued “she shall be put to death by the stone. May Allah have mercy upon her harlot soul, in the next life.” The crowd erupted in cheers.

Closing her eyes Zahra began to pray. “Allah is great! Allah is great!” Repeating the Salaat by rote Zahra barely felt when the first stone struck her left shoulder. Another struck her rib on her right side.

“Glory to you oh Allah and Yours is the praise.” Pain racked Zahra’s body even before the first stone struck her head. She barely opened her eyes to see a stone hurling at her face. It crashed into her nose. Detachedly she felt the blood trickle down her face. Her body was pain, but in her spirit she was free.

“In the name of God, the infinitely Compassionate and Merciful. Praise be to God, Lord of all Worlds. The Compassionate and Merciful.”

Zahra was barely aware when the blackness consumed her.

If you were affected by this story please read the articles on which it was based.

http://www.aftenbladet.no/english/940794/13-year_old_stoned_to_death_in_Somalia.html

http://womensphere.wordpress.com/2008/11/03/victim-of-stoning-in-somalia-was-13-year-girl-whose-report-of-being-raped-led-to-adultery-charges/

http://www.amnesty.org/en/for-media/press-releases/somalia-girl-stoned-was-child-13-20081031

Please remember the humanitarian and human rights crisis which affect so much of our globe.