THE TWO WIVES
Indelicate expressions--The narrative of No.
1--Interruptions--The narrative of No. 2--Buralli speaks the
epilogue.
This is a truthful record of a scene that occurred in my court
to-day. If some of the expressions used are rather indelicate I can
only excuse myself for repeating them on the plea that they are not
to be compared with some other expressions used, but not repeated.
Africans call spades "spades," and talk without embarrassment about
subjects that are taboo in our drawing-rooms. This morning, without
any warning, two Somal ladies were ushered into my presence at
court. Ushered, did I say? Rather, two ladies burst into the court
dragging at their tails a squad of perspiring policemen, who showed
signs of having been engaged in an unsuccessful argument with the
women.
The imperturbable Somal sub-inspector of police guided one woman
into the witness-box, the other into the prisoners' stand.
"Well, madam," said I to the one in the witness-box, "what is your
trouble?"
Both women began to shout. Cries of "Silence" interrupted them, and
Buralli, the police inspector, was able to make a little speech.
"Sahib, these two women have been fighting like devils. At first I
thought the town was afire. We have put this one in the witness-box
to keep them apart. As sure as they are within reach of one another
they fight like tigers, and attack anyone attempting to drag them
apart. They are both prisoners."
"Very good. This," pointing my finger at the fat woman in the
prisoners' stand, "is accused No. 1. This," at the long gaunt woman
in the witness-box, "is accused No. 2. No. 2 will explain what she
means by such outrageous conduct."
Meanwhile No. 1 lets down her petticoat, which I observe is girded
round her loins for other than peaceful, housekeeping purposes.
No. 1, with a snort and a toss of her head, allowed the petticoat
to fall, and made other adjustments to her dress and person which
enabled me to have a closer look at her without blushing. No. 2
proceeded with her story.
"My second last husband died some two years ago, since when, until
a few months ago, I have been a lone respectable widow. Never a
word of scandal has been breathed against me until to-day. Four
months it is since Ali Hosh began to take an interest in me, and
asked my hand in marriage. I refused at first to have anything to
do with him, but he pestered me so, that, for the sake of peace, I
married him. He had already one wife, the woman present in court,
who resented the marriage, and laid herself out to make my life
unbearable. At the end of one month I was tired of the perpetual
bickering, and begged Ali to divorce me. Though loath to part with
me he saw it was the best thing to do, and agreed. Three times he
renounced me before witnesses, and I am now a single woman again.
This morning his wife came to my house and made use of the most
shocking language. She called me a ---- and many other bad names. I
begged her to go away, but on her making use of the bad expression I
have told you of, for a second time, in connection with myself--Me!
Me! Me! a most respectable woman--I lost my temper and sailed into
her in fine style. I made use of no bad language whatever, and I
am at a loss to understand why I have been arrested. I wish you to
realise I am the complainant in this case. I demand that this woman
be sent to chowky.[2] She is a bad woman, ripe for murder, and my
life is unsafe whilst she is at large. What's the use of the British
government if it can be flouted by one fat old woman like this!"
[2] Prison.
Further remarks of accused No. 2 were interrupted by a perfect howl
of vituperation from No. 1. Feminine flesh and blood could not stand
such a remark as the last to pass unchallenged. I quite understood.
There's a time and place for everything. If I wanted to call a woman
"a fat old thing" I'd wait until she was sailing for Australia and
break it to her gently when the gangway was up and she was too far
from the pier--on which I'd be standing--to jump ashore. Women are
really braver than men.
Shrieks and hysterical screams. "Ha, you baggage!" "Strumpet
yourself; everyone knows you are no better than you ought to be."
Interspersed with yells from the policemen to the women to hold
their tongues. The row continued: I became quite excited myself,
and joined in the mêlée by beating on the table with a heavy ruler
and shouting out: "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Buralli closed this
incident by threatening to duck both women in the sea. I ordered
No. 2 to proceed. She repeated herself again and again. Mahomed the
interpreter gave it as his opinion that she was only wasting my
time. I replied that he was much too fond of expressing his opinion,
and asked him to keep it to himself. The woman, I said, was to talk
until she was tired out, if I sat there all night to listen to her.
At it she went again until she had to admit there was nothing more
to be said. Meanwhile the other woman was on the verge of a fit.
Whenever she opened her mouth three policemen shouted into it. A
most effective way of quietening her, but trying to my nerves.
Remember the temperature was ninety-eight degrees in the shade.
"Accused No. 2! Have you really finished?"
"Yes, Sahib!"
"Bring a Koran and make her swear she has nothing more to say; and,
madam, before you pass your oath, let me assure you that you cannot,
like Hastings Sahib, stand astounded at your own moderation. For
blasphemous, immodest, immoderate language I have, in the course
of a vast experience, only once met your equal, and by a strange
coincidence she happens to be accused No. 1. I would caution you
that if, in the depths of your bowels, there are any bad words or
scurrilous statements left unsaid they had better remain there. One
more word from you and I will send you to jail for a month without
the option of a fine. Now swear and be careful afterwards to keep
your mouth shut!"
She swore.
"Constables! Cast off accused No. 1--let her talk!"
And she did talk. It was like a mad woman praying.
"I have been married to Ali for nineteen years. Some few months ago
he became infatuated with this objectionable person, and married
her. I called my neighbours and pointed out that Ali was not earning
sufficient money to support me and his two children, let alone a new
wife, a strumpet who was stealing my husband, and the bread from my
children's mouths."
"Madam," I interrupted, seeing that No. 2 was on the verge of
hysterics, "try and tell your sad story without calling the other
lady names."
"She is everything I have called her and worse, Sahib. Wait until I
tell you her private history!"
"No! no! Please get on with your story."
"She is a----"
"Will you be quiet?"
"And every day before she married Ali, and every day since he
divorced her----"
"Buralli, for God's sake make this awful woman behave."
Buralli used a few expressions to the lady that I pretended not
to understand, but which secretly gave me the greatest inward
satisfaction. The woman was actually shocked into getting on with
her story. She proceeded:
"Well, the neighbours talked Ali round. He did the right thing, and
divorced her. Yesterday I heard he had sent to her for a praying
mat. 'What does he want with a praying mat from her,' I said to
myself; 'I'll go and see about it.' He works in a little hut beyond
the market, and there, sure enough, I found the mat. I took it away
and cut it into strips. I carried the strips to this woman's house
and I said, 'There's your mat.' I threw the pieces in her face like
this--I wish they had been stones. I said to her: 'Take your mat;
when my husband wants a praying mat I'll make him a better one than
you can. When he wants good food I'll prepare it for him better than
you can. When he wants----'"
"Buralli! Stop her!"
"No, Sahib, who can stop a Somal woman? Drown her. Murder her--yes,
but as long as she has breath in her body she'll talk."
"Well," I said, "I am going to finish this case. Let her proceed."
On and on she raved. "This is a government office, and here I hope
to get justice from an English Sahib, etc., etc." At last she was
talked out. I seized my opportunity.
"Do these women live in the same quarter of the town?"
"No, Sahib, in different quarters."
"Well the order of this court is that they be each escorted forth
from this building by three police constables to their separate
homes. The part of the town in which accused No. 1 lives is out of
bounds to No. 2, and she enters therein at peril of being arrested.
Vice versâ, the quarter where No. 2 lives is out of bounds to No. 1,
and if found there she will be arrested. Take them out!"
I watched No. 2 being led down the road that runs straight away from
my office door. No. 1 was escorted across the square to the left.
At intervals the women paused to wave their arms and shout abuse at
one another, but were ever hustled on by the policemen. At last the
stout lady sat on the road and defied her escort to shift her. They
did not try, and there she sat until her rival was out of sight,
when she arose and went quietly to her home.
"When a Mussulman has been married to one woman for years," says
Buralli, "and then marries a second wife he has spoiled the first
one."
"In this particular instance, which calls forth your words of
wisdom, Buralli, it appears to me that it was the second wife alone
who was in danger of being spoiled--by the old wife," I replied.
"Oh, she is all right," said Buralli, "she'll marry again!"
"A bachelor this time, I think, Buralli."
"Sahib," said Mahomed the interpreter, "he was a wise king who
passed the law that a European gentleman should have only one wife."
"Perhaps it was a queen, Mahomed!"
"Sure, it must have been a queen!" said the wise Mahomed.