Characters
SAFIA, mother of ABDULLAH, MOHAMED, and AHMED.
SAID, brother in law of SAFIA.
NAYIM, niece of SAFIA.
MOHAMED, older brother of NAYIM.
LEILA, SAFIA'S cousin
ABDULLAH, eldest son of SAFIA
MOHAMED, middle son of SAFIA
AHMED, youngest son of SAFIA.
DEJA, LEILA's daughter
Setting:
The play is set in a house in North Carolina owned by the husband of Safia. It is a modern building with five bedrooms, four of them on the first floor. The sense of this house is space. The living room is attached to a dining area and a study which has been converted to a bedroom. The dining area has huge glass doors which gives way to a common back garden shared with the neighbors. The back garden is oblong, narrow, on which you can't do much. Its narrowness is such because of the trees that separate one suburb from another. The master bedroom is taken by Safia who sleeps in the bed with young Mohamed. Baby Ahmed sleeps in a crib next to the bed. The bedroom on the ground floor is taken by Said. Nayim sleeps in a bedroom with Abdullah. Mohamed, brother of Nayim, has a room of his own, like Said. These two are the only male adults in the house.
Scene 1
It is Spring and the bombardment of Iraq has just begun. Safia, a chubby but pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties, is watching TV on one of the sofas. She is holding her youngest son in her lap while he's squirming to escape. He has a rash that looks like scales all over his limbs. Said, a skinny middle aged man with an inordinate amount of elegance, is seated on the other sofa, directly opposite the fireplace. He is transfixed on the television. Mohamed, the other adult male of the household, dark skinned like his sister, is standing in between the two sofas holding a saucer filled with water. He has his eyes closed whispering prayers over the water filled saucer. He blows into the saucer every few seconds. Occasionally he opens his eyes to glare at the television. The other children, from time to time, make an entrance, but it is fleeting. Safia at all times speaks only Somali, and is characterised solely by frustration.
The baby screams
SAFIA: Uss! What are those lights ?
SAID: Bombs.
SAFIA: Are those flashes to illuminate the night ?
SAID: Those are bombs exploding. (Pause) It looks like fireworks, reverse fireworks, for the pleasure of the night revelers in the sky.
The baby screams
SAFIA: Quiet waraya (boy), uss!
MOHAMED: Here.
He passes her the saucer and then stands still looking at the screen. Safia puts the saucer on the glass table in front of her and rubs the water on the rash of her son's limbs. He writhes and whimpers as she does so.
MOHAMED: What kind of man attacks at night, when people are asleep?
SAID: The ones who want to make lasting impressions. That's the time when you're more easily frightened, at night. The sense of your own vulnerability is heightened.
SAFIA: Frighten for what?
She releases the squirming boy in a manner that is close to a throw.
SAID: To make them surrender quickly.
SAFIA: Let them surrender as quickly as possible. The cowards. That's what they want to do. This has been going on for days now and the Americans are still there.
MOHAMED: Auntie, what can these people do? They're nothing compared to these bullies.
SAFIA: There's no such thing as bullies in conflicts between men. If they were men versus women, that's a bully. But these are men against men.
MOHAMED: Auntie, these are not men. These are machines. What are we doing in a country who murder with machines? Murder our people at that.
Nayim, a dark skinned teenage girl of seventeen, comes down the stairs and sits down next to her uncle. One could see a flicker of disapproval on her brother's face as she entered a circle of adults.
MOHAMED: What's the Arab League doing? Useless organisation.
SAID: They did express their disapproval. All but one.
SAFIA: Who?
MOHAMED: Kuwait.
SAID: They are vindictive.
MOHAMED: How can vindictiveness reach such levels? They better not dare call themselves Muslims after this!
SAFIA: Kuwait? Weren't you in Kuwait before, Said?
SAID: Not for long. It's a land of gamblers. When I first heard of the vote, I thought the only dissenter would be Iraq, with an American general sitting in its seat, voting in favour of occupation. But of course it's the gamblers. It always is.
MOHAMED: Gadaffi is the only true man and Muslim on that council and ruler of any Muslim country.
SAID: They have the nerve to get upset when you don't want to gamble. It's like when someone offers you beer here. Why should I accept an offering by a host when he offers me two different ways for me to damn myself, even if I am a guest.
MOHAMED: Why should we be guests ?
NAYIM: Did you see the Somali president in the Arab League ? It looked weird, it didn't look right. What's Somalia doing in the Arab League?
SAID: We are Arabs that's why. But we're different from those who drink champagne in celebration or gamble because they have no occupation.
NAYIM: Is Somalia on the African council too?
SAID: That's a council of nations. The Arab League is a council of ethnicity. We are on both.
MOHAMED: We are not Arabs.
Points at his dark skin
Look at us.
SAID: Look at the Sudanese, Omanis.
SAFIA:
We could be
Points at her light skin.
Look at me.
SAID: Well, there is the history.
NAYIM: Uncle, you believe that ? Three Arabs fleeing from persecution and founding an entire people? How many women for the groundwork?
MOHAMED : Uss, naya (girl) !
SAFIA: Go put the chicken in the oven, NAYIM.
NAYIM:
Getting up
Leila is here.
A car had pulled up. An extremely attractive Somali woman in her mid twenties, steps out wearing low cut jeans and a light top with frills. This is Leila, bringing her daughter DEJA, for a playdate. There is an aura of worldliness about Leila. When she enters the house it should be apparent that culturally, Leila, is different from the others. This is shown primarily through language and not just the actual language they speak, but the manner in which they express themselves in the languages. Everyone switches to English when she arrives, except for Safia, and when they speak to Leila, the adults always have a trace of mockery in their tones.
LEILA: Hey, family. Do you like my fashion statement?
She points at the light turquoise veil, of the belly dancer type, that she wrapped around her waist, over her jeans.
SAID: Sexy !
Both he and Mohamed laugh. Safia stares with surprise at the veil, uncomprehending, but understands that Leila is being mocked. Safia's smile is strange like the smile of someone who is being mocked themselves. Leila thinks they are laughing at her joke when they are laughing at her.
LEILA: Go find the kids, Deja.
Deja sprints away.
What are you watching ?
SAID: Nothing that will interest you.
LEILA: Nacas (idiot).
SAID: Where are you going now, on a date?
LEILA: What? No. I'm going to the doctor.
MOHAMED: What's wrong with you ?
LEILA: Nothing. Some lady problems.
Mohamed and Said look at each other with meaningful looks, while Leila looks at the TV screen.
Is this about the dictator? I don't know why you guys are so upset.
SAID: Oh yes freedom.
LEILA: Yes, freedom.
SAID: To make fashion statements.
LEILA: Don't underestimate the value of a fashion statement. You never know. You might see something you like.
SAID: And also to go to the doctor to fix 'lady problems'.
LEILA: That's important too. Problems have to be fixed after all. Having said that, one mustn't be late. (Playfully) Some problems have to be nipped in the bud.
Leila leaves the house. Just before she closes the door a voice cries out.
DEJA: Bye Mommy !
As soon as she leaves, Somali is the language spoken again.
MOHAMED: Lady problems.
SAFIA: What did she say ?
SAID: It sounds to me like she's pregnant again. I didn't know she had a boyfriend.
MOHAMED: How many children does she want running around her house with no fathers?
Safia is stunned.
SAFIA: What is she going to do with that baby? Don't tell me…
SAID: We don't know what these people get up to. It would be no surprise if she's not pregnant anymore by the time she comes back.
SAFIA: Call her father.
SAID: It's not our business.
The younger children, Mohamed and Deja come up to the adults. Both of them are around four years of age and neither can speak Somali.
YOUNG MOHAMED: Can we watch cartoons?
SAFIA (Angrily): What did you say ? What did he say?
MOHAMED: They want to watch cartoons.
SAID: Change it if you want.
The kids run to the television and change it, sitting real close to the screen. Ahmed hobbles up to sit behind his brother and cousin. Safia looks at Ahmed with his scales and young Mohamed with his odd appearance. He has an extremely large head with protruding eyes. He was what most would call ugly.
SAFIA (Mumbling, audible only to herself): Deja will come out beautifully when she grows. But mine will come out like their father.
She goes to the kitchen.
MOHAMED: There's nothing worse than a woman that looks at her children with distaste.
SAID: I can't say that I blame her. My brother and her genes didn't mix well. When an attractive woman marries an unattractive man, she can only tolerate it if her children don't come out looking like their father. When they do and you have an ugly husband and ugly children, life itself becomes ugly.
MOHAMED: That's the kind of superficiality this country clouds the mind with. Even if she can't speak the language, she thinks like them.
SAID: She thinks like a woman. And my brother thought like a man. I told him first cousin was too close but he didn't want to listen. He said that he had waited a long time, marrying at fifty, grafting because of emigration, and his reward to himself was to marry up. At least he had his fun though. With a woman completely out of his league.
MOHAMED: It's not an issue of cousins it's an issue of two people.
SAID: Two people not made for each other.
MOHAMED: And there are no leagues in Somalia.
SAID (musingly): Yes, but maybe there should be.
Scene 2
About an hour before dinner time. The kids are still watching television. Deja and baby Ahmed are fooling around while Young Mohamed is still fixated on the screen. He is and always was obsessed with cartoons. Safia is behind them, seated on the sofa.
Young MOHAMED: Can you stop ! I'm trying to watch this.
DEJA: But you've seen this one already.
Young MOHAMED: No I haven't.
DEJA: Yes you have.
Young MOHAMED: No I haven't!
Safia has been intensely watching the screen and then the conversation of the kids. She is trying to follow and understand.
SAFIA: What are these kids saying?
The phone rings. There is dread on her face. A fearfulness. She picks up the phone.
SAFIA: Hello.
LEILA: Safia. It's Leila.
SAFIA: Ah, Leila. (Laughs awkwardly and continues in English) How are you?
LEILA: Fine.
She then speaks in admirable but broken Somali. The childish delight at speaking this language is evident in her tone and one has the sense that she is smiling as she speaks.
I'm not coming by today. I have something...I'll be there tomorrow.
SAFIA (Relieved and senses LEILA's delight): Ok. What did the doctor say?
LEILA (faltering because of the language): I...he SAID...nothing. Where's Deja?
SAFIA: Deja ! Mama !
Deja runs to the receiver. Safia listens to the monosyllabic nature of a child speaking on the phone and then turns to the screen. Young Mohamed is still riveted. She returns to her concentrated attempt to understand what the cartoon characters are saying.
Scene 3
Later that day. Dinner time. There are only children at the table along with Safia who in the beginning of the scene is serving the food, chicken and rice. On the dinner table is a thick Yellow Pages and a cleaning spray that Abdullah is pretending to spray on Young Mohamed's food.
DEJA: My mommy said she's not coming today because she fell and broke her tailbone.
YOUNG MOHAMED (Righteously): Hoyo (Mother),
Points at the cleaning spray in the middle of the table.
Abdullah is playing with the cleaning spray. He almost sprayed it in my food.
SAFIA: What did you say? Uss!
She takes off her slipper and throws it at him, hitting him on the chest.
YOUNG MOHAMED (crying): But Abdullah…(lost in blubber).
SAFIA: Uss! And eat. Not one more word from you in that language!
NAYIM: Quiet Mohamed, and eat.
Mohamed, blubbering unintelligible things, puts empty spoonfuls in his mouth while Nayim is feeding baby Ahmed.
SAFIA (Still shouting): Why don't you stop feeding that boy and feed yourself.
DEJA: Mommy broke her tailbone.
NAYIM: I'm finished.
SAFIA: At least eat the rice.
NAYIM: I'm not hungry.
She leans back in her seat, rubbing her stomach to indicate she's full, letting the baby feed himself.
SAFIA: What did you eat today?
NAYIM: Different things.
SAFIA: Yesterday?
NAYIM: Auntie, you're looking for something that is not there.
SAFIA: Who are you doing this for? Look. You took the skin off the chicken and didn't even eat the meat.
ABDULLAH: I want it. Can I have your skin?
He snatches it with his fork. Just as he does that, Safia bangs the table.
SAFIA: Leave the girl's food alone, bully !
ABDULLAH (Whining): But she said that she didn't want it !
SAFIA: You should eat the skin, Nayim. Wallah, you're getting skinnier and darker. The skin will make you fatter and lighter.
NAYIM: The chicken's skin?
DEJA: Mommy broke her tailbone.
SAFIA: If we were still in Somalia you'd be chubby and pretty now.
NAYIM: And darker too.
Nayim goes back to feeding baby Ahmed.
SAFIA: If we were still there, you'd be looking at the horizon and see a skyline that is changeless, just like everything else around you.
Sinks into reverie
You'd see space expanding, rather than encroaching upon you. You'd be growing up with the same people you will die with. You'd be wondering which one of you will have the first funeral and who will have the last wedding. Mine was the last. (Bitterly) You have to fatten up the animals before the slaughter, after all. And once the fat is just right, so it feels good when you slice it, you're sent to the dinner party with compliments. A civilized occasion; around people whose faces you barely know, a husband, at the head of the table, whose half way dead, children whose words you can't understand and never will, and whose looks you despise and always will.
The reverie ends and it is as if no one heard her.
DEJA: Mommy broke her tailbone.
SAFIA: What's this girl saying?
NAYIM: Her mother broke something.
ABDULLAH (Imitating): Mommy broke her tailbone.
He laughs at his own joke. Young Mohamed, following his brother' lead, also laughs, but his is a cartoonish evil villain laugh, not a mirthful one. It's doubtful he even heard what Abdullah said. Safia snatches the Yellow Pages. With helpless fury and noises that are almost sobs, she tries to tear it in half. She then stands up and throws it at Abdullah. He knew what was coming and had been scooping up rice as fast as possible and ducked out of the way. Mohamed runs after him as Safia picks up the Yellow Pages again and throws it after them.
SAFIA: Let me catch you teasing girls again !
Looks at the television.
It's that damned thing. They're watching that thing all day long. Kidnapper !
She throws the yellow pages at the television with superhuman strength that only deep emotion can give you. The television shakes as it is hit, but remains where it was, as it is, unbroken.
Scene 4
The next day. Safia and Said are in the living room. The children are running around with more excitement than usual. This is a primal excitement of knowing violence is occurring. They run outside to the garden because the excitement is too much for their nerves and they know the cool air will douse them to normality. Mohamed and Nayim had been locked up in one of the bedrooms together.
SAFIA: What is he doing there?
SAID: What brothers do with their sisters.
SAFIA: And what's that, brother?
SAID: We all see what's going on with Nayim and we don't accept her right to self abuse. She wants to be like the girls who make fashion statements and soon will have lady problems that need fixing. What brother can see that and do nothing?
SAFIA: Maybe she's sick or it's some kind of phase, something to grow out of.
SAID: You speak their language without being able to speak it ! That is the queerest thing... Why is it that only children in Western countries have phases that they grow out of ? We both grew up in the same society and grew out of nothing. All the people we came across in that society, have you seen one that went through phases, grew out of something ?
SAFIA: No.
SAID: Neither have I. And I'm convinced that only Western countries have people with so-called phases. Imagine going through a phase of Buddhism and then Christianity and then you are Muslim by the weekend. Or you go from man to woman, to child all in the space of a few hours! Laughable. And you know the reason for that? Options. Lives. People have lives! Multiple! There are too many lives that people can lead. Too many options people can take. Too many different ways for people to go. There should be only one life and one way. Once you have only one way, there are no turns, confusion or phases. The craziest thing is that people always go back to the road that they originally followed. But after what damage?
At this point Mohamed walks down the stairs with a snarl on his face. Safia looks up while Said doesn't.
SAFIA: What were you up to?
MOHAMED: We had to come to an understanding.
SAFIA: Understand that you are a brother and not a father.
SAID: The father is dead. And even if he wasn't, he would approve of his son taking charge like this.
MOHAMED: What are you saying, Auntie? Should I let her go? We know where that will lead her. Soon she will slash her wrists and God knows what else they do here. You don't need fathers to correct a child.
SAID: This is just sentimentalism, momentary misguidance, experimenting with the idea of phases. She just had to be told that experiments blow up in people's faces.
A stony faced Nayim comes down the stairs.
NAYIM: Where is young Mohamed ? It's time for his lesson.
MOHAMED: What lesson?
NAYIM: Arabic.
MOHAMED: A little understanding, auntie, that's all a family needs. We have to understand one another.
SAFIA (Incredulous): He can't even speak Somali to understand his mother. Why Arabic?
SAID: Arabic is more useful. Somali can come later.
SAFIA(Bitterly): Of course. Important things come first.
MOHAMED: For the purposes of the Holy Book.
SAID: And others. After all, we are originally Arabs.
As Nayim takes a moaning Mohamed upstairs for his lesson, a car pulls up. It is Leila. She has had a haircut which sits ill on her and she is dressed in all white, making her look older. Her stride is less confident, self conscious. She looks like she's steeling herself for something.
MOHAMED (Waving towards Leila): This is what happens when you let go.
Leila enters.
LEILA: Hey. Salaam Aleikum.
All: Waleikum Salaam.
Once again, everyone, except Safia, speaks English now that Leila has entered.
SAFIA: Her hair.
SAID: Stylish !
LEILA: Yeah I had to cut it.
SAID: 'Had to' ? Oh yes. Compelled to go through a phase. A short hair phase.
LEILA(Smiling): Yes. And I will be for a while. I hope it suits me. It will have to.
SAID (Facetiously): It does, I swear it does. Guess what? I've decided to establish a league.
LEILA: What kind of league?
SAID: A Somali league.
LEILA: Is that supposed to have made things clearer?
SAID: You see, Somalia doesn't have any leagues. I think I will establish one. So men and women know where they stand.
LEILA: Stand ?
SAID: With each other. Who is appropriate for who. And guess what?
LEILA: What?
SAID: You'd be at the top.
LEILA( patting her hair): I suppose they did a good job.
SAID: They sure did. How is your lady problem?
LEILA: What lady problem?
MOHAMED: Your tailbone. You walk remarkably well for someone who has broken their tailbone.
LEILA. That's just something I said for the kids. Any around ?
She looks, sees only adults and continues.
Well, family, I do have a lady problem, the problem of ovarian cancer.
The shock is evident. Only Safia looks around worried, confused, angst ridden.
It's spread around my uterus. They said they will have to cut out my problematic lady parts. But before that they gave me an option. That's why I went there today. They said that if I wanted I could freeze my eggs for later, to have more kids.
SAID: How ? A laboratory baby?
LEILA: Yes, something like that. All they need is the sperm and they will inseminate.
MOHAMED: Are you Muslim ?
LEILA (Startled): What a strange question. (Laughs). Should a nephew ask that of an aunt?
MOHAMED: It's pertinent especially in times of affliction.
LEILA: Worry more about my body than my soul.
SAID: Why do you want to have another child?
LEILA: I can't have Deja be the only child in the family with no brothers or sisters.
SAID: So you froze these eggs. Today?
LEILA: Yesterday.
SAID: Why don't you get pregnant naturally before the cancer spreads? If everything is still functional...
LEILA: I don't think it works like that. Besides I'm not seeing anyone.
SAID: This is a large family and a man for such a thing could be found. They might even be closer than you think.
LEILA: I will have no babies with a relation. Besides, it's rare that women with ovarian cancer get pregnant.
SAID: Never know until you try.
LEILA: You mean YOU want to try, relation. No matter if a baby comes out.
SAID: I harboured no such intention. But if called upon...
SAFIA: What is going on?
MOHAMED: (In Somali) She is sick and wants to have a new baby.
SAFIA: With who?
MOHAMED: Yes, with who?
LEILA: We'll find out in a couple years.
SAID: And if you're still not married?
LEILA: You mean if I'm still single.
SAID: If you say so.
LEILA: I'll get a sperm donor.
Mohamed laughs.
SAFIA: What did she say?
MOHAMED: She wants to have a baby with a machine. This is a country of machines.
SAID: White, Black, Chinese, does it matter?
LEILA: Nope.
Said is shocked but his elegance is never disturbed.
SAID: You just said that you didn't want Deja to be the only child in the family with no siblings. You want her to be like us. But you yourself are not like us. You are the only woman in our family who hasn't married someone in our family. All of us married our relations. You want your daughter to be the same, but you make her example different from us.
LEILA: Your pick up lines need work, relation.
MOHAMED: Uncle, let her have her machines. This is what they do here.
SAID: Leila, do you hate Somalis?
Leila laughs
LEILA: Relation, I don't hate Somalis. I just don't want to have a child with a member of my family!
Parallel
Nayim is upstairs with Young Mohamed, reciting the Arabic alphabet. His fingers are on the table while she is holding a ruler.
NAYIM: Alief. Ba.
She prompts him to say the next letter.
YOUNG MOHAMED: Sa
She hits his fingers with the ruler.
NAYIM: Alief.
YOUNG MOHAMED: ( Holding back screams and tears; mouthing more than anything ) Ba.
SAID: But a stranger...
LEILA: That's more acceptable.
MOHAMED: Stranger means another person. But we're talking about machines.
LEILA: There is no machine, nephew. (Laughs) Is this what you imagine, Somali women and machines? Ain't that a Japanese kink?
NAYIM: Alief.
MOHAMED: I was brought up natural, to accept judgement.
LEILA: What was the judgement, Nephew?
SAID: Mohamed.
LEILA: What was it?
MOHAMED: The first one was a sin. The judgement -'
Leila swings at her nephew, who is five years her junior. She hits him a couple times before he cocks back but then thinks better of it. He tries to grab her arms instead. In the commotion however it looks like he swung at her.
SAID: MOHAMED !
NAYIM: Ba.
Safia springs from her seat to separate them as did Said.
SAFIA: What are you doing ! Out my house, now! Out!
She slaps him flush in the face, jumping a little to be able to reach it. Not a trace of fright is on her face as she knows she has the untouchability of family hierarchy - which is in her favour. Mohamed recognises it, says nothing, and leaves.
SAFIA: A sick woman! He's gone crazy.
YOUNG MOHAMED: Ta.
Scene 5
Safia is hovering between sleep and wakefulness. Ahmed is asleep. Young Mohamed, who sleeps in the same bed as his mother, is waking up and attempting to get out of bed.
SAFIA: What are you doing? Go to sleep.
YOUNG MOHAMED: But, Hoyo, I have to go.
SAFIA: What ?
YOUNG MOHAMED: I have to go.
SAFIA: Go to sleep, I tell you.
As his attempts to tell his mother that he had to go to the toilet didn't work, and in his childish mind he has not yet learned how to say the same thing in a different way, let alone in a different language that he doesn't speak, he wets himself. As he does he cries. Safia realises that he has wet himself as she hears and feels what sounds like a bedwet.
SAFIA: Did you ? (Raging) Did you piss on the sheets ? Waraya!
She hits him on the side of his legs as she gets out of bed.
YOUNG MOHAMED: (Blubbering) But I tried to say -
SAFIA: Uss boy. You're not sleeping in my bed any more.
Young Mohamed wails, for he can understand Somali even if he can't speak it. He wails because he wants to sleep with his mother.
SAFIA: Uss !
YOUNG MOHAMED: But I tried to say..
Safia looks at him, half naked now that she took his pants off. She suddenly remembers the incomprehensible words of earlier.
SAFIA: Did you say earlier that you had to go to the toilet?
Young Mohamed nods his head. Safia is enraged even further.
SAFIA: How can it be that a mother can't understand her son?
She snatches the soiled bedsheets. Young Mohamed is still blubbering.
SAFIA: Uss !
She says it with such violence that he immediately quietens.
SAFIA: Who is responsible? I want to know who!
Her anger is such that she starts to cry.
Scene 6
The sofa opposite the television folds out into a bed. Leila, Nayim are lying on it. Nayim is holding Leila with her eyes closed. Deja is also on the bed but asleep.
NAYIM: I hope you don't die.
LEILA: (Smiling) I hope you don't either.
NAYIM: I hope you get another baby.
LEILA: I hope you get one too.
Nayim gjggles.
NAYIM. Hey did you know that Somalia is in the Arab League?
LEILA: Sure didn't.
NAYIM: Did you know that chicken skin makes you lighter?
LEILA: You're an educator.
NAYIM: Maybe you'll get a baby boy with blue eyes.
LEILA: I want a girl who looks just like you.
Nayim squeezes Leila tighter.
NAYIM: That thing you're doing.
LEILA: That I might do.
NAYIM: That you might do. I think that's a good thing. You don't need love to make a family.
LEILA: No?
NAYIM: No. All you need is love for family.
LEILA: Love is for pussies and never lasts long, usually it only goes one way. Except a mother's love for her children and the love they have for their mother. The love between siblings. That's reciprocal and permanent, and the only love that is. Though the other one, the rotting and sweeter one, is nice too.
NAYIM: I'm sorry my brother attacked you.
LEILA: He didn't. I snuffed him. He can't touch me; i'm his aunt.
NAYIM: Do you know what he said to me? He saidthat you can't pick and choose different people and practices and use what you want. In that way you'll come out confused and damaged. He said mine was chosen already by the mothers and fathers we have but that I was pulling away.
LEILA: Your brother is a philosopher.
NAYIM: But you picked what you wanted. Are you confused and damaged?
LEILA: I haven't been picking, I've been pulling. I've been pulled in different directions all my life and ended up pulling everyone with me. In the end, everyone always gets over it. If you feel that you're being pulled somewhere you don't want to go.
NAYIM: Yeah?
LEILA: You know what you have to do?
NAYIM: What?
LEILA: Pull back.
Heavy, pregnant pause. They hear young Mohamed's cry.
NAYIM(musingly) : Pull back? But what if the rope's around my neck?
Curtains
