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tales of orontes river
freaky one, that one!’ – it was
one of his catchphrases – and
he understood straight away
that it applied to Abu Ahmed.
And I can tell you, Abu Ahmed
certainly got straight to the
point – he barked at the
doctor: ‘Before you go in there
and see my woman I want you
to become her blood brother
because of halal and haram.’
Doctor Mukhtar just nodded,
but his eyes were almost
popping out of his head with
the effort of suppressing his
rage and contempt for this
nonsense. He was a God-
fearing man, but, in another
of his frequently repeated
catchphrases, ‘nonsense and
I are two parallel lines that
never intersect – and if they
ever do, then God help us all.’
No, he didn’t suffer fools, that
man, that’s for sure!
So anyway, Dr Mukhtar, your
granny and Om Ahmed’s
daughter all went off to deliver
Om Ahmed’s baby. Once
Om Ahmed had got herself
appropriately covered and
veiled, with her daughter’s
help, your granny was the
first to go into the room. As
she went in she handed the
doctor a knife. ‘What’s this
for?’ he said. ‘Are we planning
to slaughter the woman, or
deliver her baby?’ ‘It’s so
you can cut your thumb, and
become blood kin with Om
Ahmed.’ ‘I’ll do it in a minute,’
said the doctor, ‘let’s just see
what’s going on in there first
– the woman’s roaring her
head off in agony right now:
do you really think this is the
right moment for that?’
Your granny could tell the
doctor was irritated, and
hearing the blood-curdling
noises Om Ahmed was belting
out she realised she’d better
draw the line there, and she