Princess Sultana's Daughters, Jean Sasson

Princess Sultana's Daughters
Jean Sasson

"Unveiled"

I have stopped breathing.
Relentless, my father continues to accuse. "Sultana, if you have difficulty in recalling these momentous events, then I suggest that you read this book!"
Father throws the book at my feet.
Unable to move, I stare, mute, at the book on the floor. My father orders, "Sultana, pick it up!" Kareem grabs the book at stares at the cover, he gasps-- a deep, ragged breath--and then turns to me. "What is this, Sultana?"
I am paralyzed with fear. My heart stops beating. I sit and listen, longing for the life-giving thump.
Suddenly the years evaporate. I am a child again, at my father's mercy. How I long for my mother to be alive, for nothing less than maternal fervor can save me from this vicious encounter.
Finding my voice, I protest weakly, blaming my deed on the highest authority, saying what all good Muslims say when caught in an act that will bring punishment on their heads. I thump the papers with my hand. "God willed it. He willed this book!"