“I don’t like fixed salaries,” he replied ambiguously.
“I don’t mind wealth so long as it’s combined with purity,” Hanuma said with clarity.
He noticed a look of fear in her eyes and said quickly, “Of course.”
He sensed the partner of his life was not partner to his ambition. He believed deep down that the only difference between people inside and outside jail was luck, not nature or principles, and that mankind was a wretched bunch from which only the shrewd and strong escaped. He regarded his wife as an extension of the foolish general attitudes he had to flatter if he wanted to realize his ambition. He began consolidating relations with certain officers and men in the private sector until June 5, when they were all exposed. He was satisfied to be simply pensioned off, again thanks to Hakim, but Hanuma raised a storm that culminated in divorce.
“You’re only responsible for yourself,” Samira assured Hanuma with her usual calm.
“But I can’t just shut my eyes and destroy everything my life is built on,” the young woman replied fiercely.
Hanuma kept the apartment and their daughters while Nadir began to live between hotels and Darb al-Ahmar, explaining the divorce to his innocent mother in terms of a disagreement that ruined the marriage. When the situation changed and the first indications of the infitah policy appeared he began to breathe once more. He derived from this unexpected situation a life he had never before dreamed of. He busied himself determinedly with imports and finally realized the dream he had entertained since childhood. The world spread out before him at home and abroad. On one of his journeys he met an Australian widow, married her, and moved in with her in a villa in al-Ma’adi. He would often laugh and say, “It’s my rightful share; fortune is for the strong, morality for the weak.”
Nadira Mahmud Ata al-Murakibi
She was the fourth child of Mahmud Bey Ata. She was born and grew up in the mansion on Khayrat Square in an environment steeped in splendor and comfort. She was nice looking but less so than her brothers. She was similar in nature, principles, and piety to her older sister, Shakira, and very compliant and gentle too. She had a sharp mind and loved school. Her father, having been conquered by current trends, did not object to her continuing her education. Her childhood happiness was crowned by the love that united her with her cousin Mazin. He was her knight in shining armor from adolescence until the day he died, or rather all her life. She loved him like nothing else in the world and pinned all her dreams, happiness, and hope on him. How she fretted over the quarrel that rent the family! How she feared its implications for her happiness and aspirations! “Papa is too angry,” she said to her mother.
Their bond was not severed through the many years of dispute. Meanwhile, she passed the baccalaureate and enrolled at the faculty of medicine. Then came the disaster in which Mazin perished. He vanished from her world and she virtually went mad with grief, or rather anger. She spent a year in the mansion, prisoner to depression, then continued her studies with a hardened heart, set on renouncing the world. She emerged from that period with two bitter experiences: the death of her beloved and her sister’s disappointing marriage. She applied all her energy to work, solitude, and religious readings. Good opportunities to marry came her way but she instinctively thought the worst and hated the idea of married life. She specialized in pediatric medicine, took a doctorate, and was more and more successful every day. She paid no attention to her brothers’ advice to reconsider marriage and persisted with her work, solitude, and piety until the train left her behind, unapologetic, registered in the sad world as a unique, unrepeatable entity. Shakira, Abduh, Nadira, and Mahir assembled in the mansion in old age, as they had done at the start of their lives, living examples of success and failure.
Ni‘ma Ata al-Murakibi
Ata al-Murakibi and Sakina Gal‘ad al-Mughawiri’s daughter, she was born and grew up in the house in al-Ghuriya. She inherited her mother’s wide eyes and copious black hair together with good health, which her mother had not known. When Yazid al-Misri decided to arrange a marriage for his son Aziz, she fulfilled the criteria: chaste, beautiful, and the daughter of his neighbor and friend, Ata al-Murakibi. Ni‘ma was wedded to Aziz and moved to a different floor of the same house in al-Ghuriya. She was a good example of a sensible, economizing, and obedient wife and gave birth to Rashwana, Amr, and Surur. Her father’s marriage to the rich widow came as a shock. She watched bewildered as he climbed into a different class. She visited the new mansion on Khayrat Square and the farm in Beni Suef and was utterly dazzled by what she saw; she could not believe her eyes. She anticipated a shower of charity but was disappointed, for, with the exception of a few gifts on festivals, the man was tight-fisted, as though she were not his daughter or Mahmud and Ahmad’s older sister. “He’s a miser. He holds back his prosperity,” said Aziz.
She defended her father despite some resentment, “No. He’s just afraid the lady will accuse him of squandering her fortune!”
She was God-fearing but nevertheless hoped the widow would depart for the Hereafter before her father so she could inherit and bequeath some of the money to help Rashwana, Amr, and Surur in their lives. But the man died a short while before his wife, frustrating her hopes in death as he had in life. In the end, the fact that her two brothers, Mahmud and Ahmad, interacted with her and her children and were dutiful to them made her forget her sorrows. She reciprocated their love until the end of her life. She lived to delight in her grandchildren and departed the world two years after Aziz.
Nihad Hamada al-Qinawi
The first child of Sadriya and Hamada al-Qinawi, she was born and grew up in Khan Ga‘far. She was cheerful in Bayt al-Qadi as a child and enjoyed special favor with Amr and Radia as the first grandchild. She was moderately pretty and received a small measure of education, which she soon forgot. When she was nearly fifteen, a middle-aged village mayor, a relative of her father, asked to marry her. Her father welcomed him enthusiastically and Sadriya realized with profound sorrow that she was to be separated from her daughter forevermore, that she would only see her on special occasions, and that from now on her daughter’s roots would be in Upper Egypt.
Nihad acclimatized to her new surroundings, adopted new mannerisms, and took on a new dialect. She bore the village mayor ten children, half of them boys, the other half girls. Whenever she visited Cairo as a stranger, eyes would gaze at her curiously, for she was the picture of a typical village mayor’s wife with her vast body and gold jewelry covering arms and neck. But she was the kind of stranger who provoked laughter.
Ha’
Hanuma Hussein Qabil
THE YOUNGEST DAUGHTER OF SAMIRA and Hussein Qabil, she was born and grew up in the house on Ibn Khaldun Street. Her beauty was like her mother’s and she was tall, slim, and intelligent, had firmly held morals and principles, and was very similar to her younger brother, Salim. She excelled at school and enrolled in the French language department of the faculty of arts. She was enthusiastic about the July Revolution as a movement for reform and morality but changed her mind when it sentenced Salim to jail and did not hesitate to criticize Hakim for supporting it. She graduated from college and went into radio, thanks to her good results on the one hand, and Hakim’s recommendation on the other. Sadriya’s son Aql wanted to marry her but she rejected him on account of her height and his shortness. “We would make a ridiculous sight walking down the street together,” she told her mother. She agreed to marry Nadir, for he had a good job, was good looking, and she thought highly of his morals. They lived their life together in an elegant apartment on Hasan Sabri Street in Zamalek and she gave birth to Samira, Radia, and Safa. When his deviation came to light, she raised a violent storm, which Nadir had not expected from his life partner. She told him frankly, “I refuse to go on living with a man who has clearly gone astray.” Samira hated the idea of divorce and tried to convince her that it was not her responsibility, that she must weigh up the consequences of her decision for her daughters. But she said to her mother, “He is diminished in my opinion and there’s nothing I can do about it.”