Free Strength to Say No by Mouhssine Rekha; Ennaimi Kalindi Page A

not to move from there before he comes to get me. In the courtyard I spot a newspaper with a big picture of me. I realize that my words at the museum in Purulia have brought on my mother’s wrath.
    I hear her yell at my father, ‘You see what your daughter is capable of? She’s humiliating us in front of the whole village, that little hussy!’
    Baba tries to calm her down by saying that the damage is done, that now they have to think about what to do and say intheir defence, especially as the authorities, the school and the
panchayat
might interfere. This is bound to be only the beginning of their problems.
    It got too dangerous to listen to the rest of the conversation at the door. My mother was capable of wringing my neck in a fit of anger. I reassured my brothers and sisters, who were disturbed by the violence of the scene and the behaviour of our mother. She seemed to be possessed by demons. I took refuge, as my brother suggested, with my father’s family. On the terrace I spelled out the newspaper article. It mentioned everything: the miscarriages, the proposals of marriage, the conditions of life at home and so on. I understood why Ma flew off the handle. The journalists didn’t spare any detail. My older brother confirmed my fears.
    â€˜Why did you do that, Rekha? It’s insane. Ma is beside herself. She’s furious with you.’
    â€˜I just told the truth, nothing more.’
    â€˜In the newspapers. On the telly. On the radio. You realize that everybody is going to know all this stuff? What are people going to think of us?’
    â€˜I don’t care!’
    â€˜You can’t say that. The whole family is going to be – and already is – the laughing stock of everybody. The situation can spin out of control very quickly, to say nothing of the problems this can cause.’
    â€˜I said, and repeated several times, to our parents that I didn’t want to be married, but they didn’t even try to listen to me. They spent their time introducing me to suitors. However much I refuse them they just keep banging on about it. They threatened me for weeks. You see how they are. You, too, youwere right about it, you know very well how it happened, don’t you?’
    When Dipak was about ten years old and Josna was already married my parents tried to find him a wife. He systematically refused them all. He always found something to hold against them: one was too dark skinned, another wasn’t pretty enough, another was illiterate, still another was taller than he was and so on. Our parents finally threw in the towel, and tough luck if the dowry would be less than they had expected. Why don’t they treat me the same way? Is it because I am a girl and a potential risk to the family honour? And even though they want to free themselves from their responsibilities, why not wait until I finish school?
    My brother Dipak is very understanding. He always supported me when the chance of going to school came up. When I don’t study enough or my marks are a little less good he orders me to work harder, to do my homework more seriously. He advises me to read and to have a look at the lessons of the curriculum before the information is brought up by my teachers. He himself is sorry not to have continued at school for longer. He gave it up around the age of twelve to begin – like all of us – to earn money. However, I can see that he is unhappy with his job because he is not cut out for physical work; on the other hand he is blessed with a very quick mind. Some years later he regrets what he did. The tea stall brings in a little to help the family, but not enough to start a family of his own. It’s thanks to him that we have been able to put electricity in the house. He pays the bills so that my parents can devote their income to buying food.
    That evening he advises me to stay with our uncle. There’sno point starting the conflict up again by going back