Rahima Safari
“How can you do this to me? After all the things I did for you and your family, how you can divorce me? Why should we get divorced because of your father? I gave birth to your two children. I let you to build a house from my inheritance. I was always by your side even when you did not have anything and could not feed us. Karim! I wish only once you would make the decisions in our lives yourself, instead of your father. He said that you should remarry and prevent your children from going to school and you accepted without asking me. Just like that, you want to divorce me and marry Faizo’s daughter. Tell me, who are you? Why can’t you make your own decisions?”
“Why are you screaming in front of all these people? Shame on you. You destroyed my son’s life. He is doing the right thing and he is listening to his father. In our family we respect our elders. Now shout your mouth and do not create a scandal in the courthouse,” Fariba’s father-in-law yelled back at her.
“If you were worried about a scandal then why did you make your son divorce a woman who has been like your daughter for nine years? You would not sell your conscience for Faizo’s money.”
Her tears didn’t let Fariba continue talking. She wiped off the tears that rolled down on her cheeks with her scarf and looked at her watch for the fifth time. She whispered something about being late.
I also looked at my cellphone and it was 11:30am. I was waiting for my friend who had come to visit a lawyer. This was my first time being in a family court. I had no idea what it would be like. In every corner people were yelling and arguing.
I learned that woman’s name when her father-in-law slapped her and asked her to stop sobbing. I felt more pain. Fariba’s mother was sitting on the floor and crying in front of Fariba’s father in law.
“Please do not divorce my daughter,” She begged.
The only calm person was Fariba’s husband. He had decided to join his father’s alliance with the wealthy elder of the town by marrying his daughter and seemed to have already forgotten his wife and two young children. It didn’t even cross his mind that his wife would be ostracized and abandoned as a divorcee in our community.
I felt as if I could not breathe watching the humiliation of another woman. I walked towards the window and wiped the tears that had fallen on my cheeks. I wish I had never set foot in this court.
I left the court as soon as I could. On my walk home, I could feel the oppression that haunt the women of my country. If we stay in abusive relationships, we are shamed and have to tolerate violence. If we leave, we are marginalized for being divorcees and we struggle to provide for our children without jobs and skills.
It hurts when I see my sisters in pain, but I have hope that we will be free one day. When men try to show their power by raising their voices and hands, my sisters and I will show them our power by raising our pens and paper. Injustice will not last.
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This piece was translated by Zahra W. A volunteer for Free Women Writers, Zahra is a sophomore in high school and an aspiring writer and poet.
Read this piece in Persian here.