I didn’t even realise that I had preserved this memory away from my conscience for many years till recently but it really shaped my love for children and babies – not in a baby fever kind of way at all but in a natural way of bonding with kids and understanding cultures. When I was 10 in, I was still setling back in to life in Pakistan and these new tenants became one of those chapters in my life that really affected me early on.
Our upper portion at our residence was rented out to a Saudi family in 2001 and they stayed for around 2 years. We didn’t know much about them as they were arranged via their High Commission in Islamabad. One day I was walking out of our own gate and my father told me, ‘I think she is is his second wife hence we don’t see the car around much. He splits his time between the wives and clearly she got the smaller apartment to live in.’
A few weeks in I remember picking up the courage to go say hello to them and introduce myself to them. Being a diplomat’s daughter and still channeling that networking energy from a young age, I felt I had to build a relation with these tenants. On the other hand, my family was NOT interested. So I told my mother that I am going to go say hello and if I don’t come back, it means they are nice and welcoming people.
So I marched in and knocked on the door. I feel I stood there forever – could have been 20 minutes or so and nobody came down. I didn’t give up and I kept knocking (Shamelessly perhaps!)
Eventually I heard somebody come down and the door opened but nobody was there. The tennant’s wife, Layla stood behind the door whilst I came in and clearly she was spending time putting on a burka but when she saw it was me, she lifted her veil. A stunning girl stood there. She was beautiful. I said hello and she didn’t understand – so I pointed and said I am from downstairs. She asked, ‘Vous parlez Francais?’ and I said no. She guided me upstairs and took me to the kitchen where her 4 month old baby was playing on the floor. Long story short, turned out she was Moroccan. She was a sister of his friend when he decided to marry again and bring a second wife in. The dynamic always blew me but it was also widely accepted to have multiple wives and to perceive Arabs as such that we couldn’t challenge it for much longer – it was just the way it was. They could financially support it and it was just the norm so we took it for that.
Ofcourse, Layla was the outcast- she belonged to a poor family, otherwise she wouldn’t be here all the way from Morocco – it wasn’t like it was some love story. She wasn’t always invited everywhere but the children all seemed to get along well and love and respect her. She also seemed fine with the entire dynamic herself because she was probably accepting of her fate that wasn’t in her hands. My experience of studying this dynamic so closely only made me understand why marriage is not necessarily a solution for women and some of us are way too blessed in comparison to others. Her husband was clearly 20 years older if not more. She was married off extremely young but to her family this was the best solution – married to a Saudi diplomat who would support her. She subconsciously planted in my head that I should NEVER rush in to marriage. I was 11 and she was 21. She told me to think about it and become as independent as possible. Her advice stuck powerfully to me all along. I was immensely attached to her kids and especially the first born, Bisma – she used to call me ‘Saida’ – the happy one.
The day they left I was devastated. I had essentially become intertwined in her story. I also recall her desperation to have sons. I once told her I had a dream of walking in to the house and seeing many kids. She asked did I see sons? I had only seen girls in the dream but I did lie to her and say yes I did. I knew at that young age to lie to her and preserve her conscience. She had four daughters eventually.
I was kept exceptionally busy between school and my tenants. It was a major buffer in to settling in Pakistan – which in hindsight I never gave credit to till this day. It probably cheered me up with the major moves, my siblings not being here. My brother and father never met her obviously but my sister and Ami did. I don’t think my family has ever understood my ability to fit in to different circles and situations but I genuinely loved this family from the bottom of my heart. I kept in touch for a while – they had moved houses in Islamabad but I finally cut off when I left for LSE – I didn’t see them again. They still send us yearly package of dates though!
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