The Girl from Baghdad Read Online Free PDF Page A

father’s features. She silently prayed to God to make me a strong woman, capable of fusing the two souls that I had inherited, to allow the East and West to coexist within me.
    My father came to Prague to take us home. He was open about the fact that his family would have preferred a baby boy, but he told them that their heir would arrive in good time. Still, he was overjoyed. He couldn’t have asked for more; his career was skyrocketing, he had a beautiful wife, a newborn daughter and a fine home. My mother had decorated it in Western fashion: sofas and curtains with simple lines and sophisticated furniture, as she didn’t like all that gold and crystal that sparkled at Bibi’s house. She unfurled large rugs onto the outdoor terraces, where we slept on hot summer nights. Um Butrus, the maid who came to tidy the apartment every day, quickly bonded with my mother. She always minded me when my parents, elegantly dressed for glamorous social functions, went out for the evening.

    I was two and a half years old when Klara was born, and six when my mother became pregnant for the third time. In the last few months of her pregnancy, I placed my ear on her huge belly and asked, ‘This time it’s going to be a little brother, right?’
    â€˜We don’t know, dear. And if it’s another little sister, another little girl like you?’
    â€˜I don’t want a sister,’ I responded, sulking.
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜I want a brother! When he’s big and tall and strong, he’ll protect me.’ Although I was very young, I already had attitude.
    â€˜You have your dad to defend you.’
    â€˜I want a brother, like my cousins! Even Aunt Kasside says …’
    â€˜What does Aunt Kasside say?’ she asked patiently.
    â€˜She always says that you need a boy or else little girls get lost.’
    â€˜No, they don’t get lost,’ she said, giving me a curious look. Then she caressed my head, smiling. ‘Stay close to your dad and you’ll see …’
    â€˜She also says a boy is worth three girls, but I don’t know what that means.’
    My mother looked at me, shocked.
    â€˜If Khalid, instead of being a boy, had been a girl, three girl babies would have come out of Aunt Ahlam’s tummy?’
    She smiled. ‘No, dear. Your aunt just wanted to say …’ she paused. ‘Your aunt wanted to say …’ She knew perfectly well what Kasside intended.
    â€˜That boys eat a lot? As much as three girls?’
    â€˜Yes, wonderful. That’s exactly what she meant!’ I had made her laugh.
    â€˜On that note, let’s go have a nice snack!’
    Watching her as she drizzled a little honey on a piece of soft bread, I thought I saw sadness cloud her face.

    Back in Prague, a little girl was born: Linda, an identical vision of my mother, with the same round face and fair complexion. On our return to Iraq our family was immediately summoned to Bibi’s house to celebrate. I left my parents in the living room and ran to play with my cousins. My mother sat next to her sister-in-law Ahlam, who held her hands and congratulated her. Ahlam was beautiful and sweet. When I went to her house, she let her daughter, Samar, and I play with her makeup and dress up in her clothes. I always carried around a little purse with lip gloss inside. When I put it on, it made me feel big. Ahlam even played with us and taught us how to do our hair. She was my favourite aunt. Aunt Kasside was much rougher on all the children. Every once in a while she would smack Alì, the youngest and naughtiestof her kids. It was she who was in command at Bibi’s house and we all had to obey like little soldiers.
    My father was radiant and showed little Linda to everyone. Then he took the baby into the room where Bibi waited for him with Kasside. I chased Samar down the hallway and, passing by the room where they were seated, stopped out of curiosity.