Free God Dies by the Nile and Other Novels by Nawal El Saadawi

against the horizon. If somebody passed by, he did not look round, and if a person proffered him the usual greeting, his quiet voice rang out in the silence with the words of Salam, but his body continued to sit immobile.
    The lips of the boy’s mouth moved slightly to pronounce the name Elwau. Yet if anyone had happened to ask him why of all the names he knew in the village that of Elwau in particular had occurred to him at the time, it is doubtful if he could have been able to find an answer. He had met him face-to-face only once. But that one time, it seems, must have been enough for him to see his eyes. And to see his eyes must have been enough for him to realize that they were not the same as the other men’s eyes. They were not fixed on the ground, but looked straight ahead of him with the expression of pride, which could also be seen in Nefissa’s eyes. He remembered that day now. In what was probably no more than the fraction of a second was born in his mind a link, nay, an unforgettable tie, between what he had seen in their eyes. He could not define what it was exactly, but he knew without a doubt that it was there, deep inside. And it remained with him long after the memory of his encounters with them had sunk into the dark, forgotten recesses of his mind.
    But the moment the face of Elwau emerged before his eyes he understood how certain things could never fade away, never die, even if they were no bigger than a drop of waterin the ocean, or lasted no longer than a short moment in the infinity of time. So when his father repeated the question he heard a voice within him say ‘Elwau.’
    And his eyes opened wide with surprise when his father reiterated, ‘Elwau?’ for he had not yet had the time to open his lips and pronounce the name ‘Elwau’ or at least so it seemed to him, as he sat there turning things over in his mind. Yet as soon as his father echoed the name, the face he had seen only once before emerged from dark into light, changed from a hazy memory, to a reality in life. His voice rose up from his depths and vibrated with an audible sound in the air outside.
    â€˜Elwau?!’ it said.
    The Mayor pronounced the name again as though to ensure that this time it was transformed into indelible fact.
    â€˜Elwau,’ he said.
    The iron gate opened wide to let in three men. Sheikh Hamzawi, Sheikh Zahran, and Haj Ismail. They filed in, one behind the other, and walked up to where the Mayor sat. No one knows whether they heard him pronounce the name of the man, but they repeated in one breath, ‘Elwau.’ Their voices echoed in the yard around the house, climbed over the high wall of red brick, cut into the dark mud huts to be repeated in the households before they lighted the kerosene lamps, leapt over the roofs and dropped into the twisting lanes and alleys, creeping along everywhere before the sun had yet had the time to set and light the other side of the earth’s globe.
    Tariq leaned over the balustrade. Below the terrace the waters of the Nile were crimson red. He watched the sun drop below the distant horizon, and the children playing on the river bank. He could hear them chanting as they wove a ragged line and danced and clapped.
    Camel driver, camel driver,
    It’s Nefissa and Elwau
    Nefissa, Nefissa, Elwau is in the basket
    Elwau, Elwau, Nefissa is in the field
    Camel driver, camel driver
    It’s Nefissa and Elwau…
    His eyes opened wide in amazement, as though he could hardly believe his ears. He turned to his mother who was standing by his side, and almost breathless with surprise, asked in a halting voice, ‘Mother, is it really Elwau?’
    â€˜How should I know?’ she replied in a voice full of irritation. ‘Why don’t you ask your father, the Mayor?’

VI
    It was a Friday; the burning disc of the sun like a ball of fire in the centre of the sky, glared down on Kafrawi’s head. His eyes seemed to be bathed in