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114

zaher omareen

you know? Their dad, on

the other hand, wel l he

was shor t, swar thy, with

a big square head, and as

stubborn as a mule. But the

girls, my God, they took

af ter their mum. Blue eyes,

blond hair, lovely f igures.

Of course in those days,

though, a man who didn’t

have a son was considered

not to have any children at

all! Everyone shamed poor

old Salamu about it, and

called him Abu Daughters.

Anyway, time passed and

eventual ly Salamu’s wi fe

got pregnant again.

–Yeah, and I bet she had

another girl, right?

–Hang on, let me tell you

the whole story . . . So yeah,

as I was saying, when she

realised she was pregnant

again our neighbour Om

Raouf went round and

examined her, because

there weren’t any doctors to

examine pregnant women

then.

–Why not?

–Now’s not the time to

go into that, let ’s stick to

f inishing the story . . . So

the point is that Om Raouf

examined Salamu’s wi fe,

and then addressed her as

Om Salah – as if she was

already the mother of a boy

called Salah – and said ‘I can

feel it in my waters: your

son Salah al-Deen is f inally

on his way.’ Om Raouf was

a rel igious woman, and

very intelligent, and she’d

del ivered al l the babies

in the neighbourhood –

she knew what she was

talking about. So the newly

crowned Om Salah tore of f

to f ind her husband and

waste no time in bringing