Defying Custom

The room seemed to shake as Grandfather raised his voice. ‘Give Maleeka your property? Have you gone crazy, Faris?’ A vein pulsed at his temple as he glared at my father, hands clenching my father’s will. His face, darkened with rage, made me shudder even as I watched from behind the curtain. I watched my father in awe as he stood his ground, features set in a determined and confident stance. ‘Father, I have made my will, and I will not change it for you, or for any of my greedy brothers. I don’t care about your traditions. God has given me a daughter- and with her the responsibility of providing for her.’ A thick silence reigned the room- it seemed as no one dared to even breathe as my father openly defied custom.

I, Maleeka, was the only child of my parents; despite trying their hardest for more offspring, I remained alone (which caused great rumours about my parents as my uncles were all blessed with many sons). My father’s will was scandalous as it was tradition for fathers to bequeath their property to the male descendants, and no one dared question the rules written into the very stones and trees of the village- women were simply too inferior and dumb to be worthy of possessing any land. Men were satisfied with the divine status and infinite power that accompanied it, and the weak, illiterate women were too cowardly and blind to stand up for themselves.

My father, however, was different… much too different from his family. Being the youngest son of the chief of the village ensured that no expenses were spared when it came to him- from the best clothing to international education, he got it all. This made his siblings envious but they stayed silent in the face of grandfather’s imposing personality. His Cambridge education polished his genteel temper: he cared for us while the rest of the family looked down upon us, and as my father’s sister-in-law’s complained about  their husband’s abusive natures in hushed voices, my mother shocked them by praising my father’s thoughtful, caring gestures. One of the things he learnt through his education was being liberal, so as his family lamented my birth, both he and my mother were grateful and buoyant. 

The opposing views of my parents and family were almost ridiculous… While my parents encouraged me to pursue my dreams and do what I wanted (which primarily meant education), the elders were against it. In their eyes, ‘Education is meant for boys, because girls are too dumb to get any benefit from it.’ Ofcourse, the men thought it was crazy and I was ‘undeserving’ of it, but my father could be stubborn as a rock if he was adamant on something- and even grandfather knew better than to say ‘no’ to something that he demanded. The women had a mixed reaction- some were jubilant, some were lost for words and some were disapproving. However, the fact that I could venture into the world on my own was both exhilarating and empowering.

My decision to become a professional tennis player elicited protests from the whole family- they already resented my education, and now my demand for the freedom to choose my profession was deemed outrageous. Already my father had come into open conflict with the elders when he allowed me to go to Yale- my scholarship being the cause of his pride and joy. Moreover, I had already angered everyone by not veiling myself after becoming a woman, and now I was asking their permission to dress provocatively: asking to wear shorts and a tank  top as I ran around the court.  

Indeed, some of their resentment could be linked to the fact that I had outshone my male cousins in almost every field… my physical and mental prowess proved that women were not as stupid as they were portrayed to be. At the tender age of 16,  I had become wary enough to help my father run his estate, which was a whopping 40 hectares, while my older cousins spent their days lounging around the mansion and their nights partying with their friends. My achievements seemed to damage the ego of the patriarchal society around me, so despite being surprised by my accomplishments, my grandfather and uncles never failed to reiterate loudly (whenever I was within earshot) that I was a woman, and my correct place was in the house, away from human eyes.

By the time I turned 20, my father had been diagnosed with heart disease, and the paramedics explicitly stated that his condition was quite alarming and he was to be kept away from stress. As old age took its toll on him, he decided to make his will so that my mother and I could settle comfortably in the event of any deterioration in his health as he didn’t trust his family enough. By bequeathing his estate to me, he ensured that we would be well off, and his property would be in safe hands- away from his greed-driven brothers.

He contacted his lawyer without letting anyone get wind of the matter, and even I was shocked when he announced that he will  be leaving his property to me. His skepticism and distrust of his brothers led him to learn inheritance laws by heart, should the need to engage in a lengthy legal battle  arise. And that was how I found myself in awe of my father when he handed over his official will to grandfather. 

Grandfather let out a long sigh as he tried to calm himself. ‘Listen, Faris. I’ve already let you give her too much freedom. You know it. I know that you love her to bits, but you can’t just tread on the ancient traditions like that. She’s a woman, and she needs to start playing the role of one. I will not, under any circumstances, allow you to pass on my property to her.’ I could see he was struggling to compose himself- his words, which were usually spoken in a measured, authoritative tone, were quivering today. ‘That’s the problem father… It’s my property, and I have freedom to do whatever I want with it.’ My father’s voice was stoic and cold as he got up and grabbed the will from his father’s hands before making his way to me; his face melted into one of joy as he succeeded in breaking the deep-rooted fallacies that suppressed women.