The Girl from Baghdad by Michelle Nouri Page B

that he was still a child, and I was curious to see what strange magic would make him big all of a sudden.
    On the evening of the ceremony, an elderly man dressed in a white robe arrived. Traditional songs were sung and Ahlam entered the room with little Khalid in her arms. They made their way between the family members, many of whom had come from all over Iraq for the circumcision. Khalid looked around curiously. When he noticed the grown-ups were staring at him, he became scared and held tight to his mother’s neck, hiding his face in her hair. Aunt Ahlam unwound his arms and placed him on a chair. He was immediately encircled by the women of the family, chanting and singing, who grabbed him by the arms. He burst out crying, terrified. His mother watched him with a mix of apprehension and tenderness, cradling his head as she tried to calm him down. But as soon as Khalid saw the old man come closer with a knife in his hand, he started to squirm and screech even louder. The surrounding women grabbed his legs to stop him kicking. The chants became louder, nearly drowning out Khalid’s screams. The old man leaned over him and cut the foreskin off his tiny penis. A spurt of blood marked the snow-white cloth that covered his lap. His howls of pain were masked by shouts of joyfrom the entire family; the women cried with happiness. As the old man shuffled out of the room, the blade of the knife, striped red, passed right before my eyes.
    I was used to the sight of blood because I had seen goats being butchered for the banquet at the end of Ramadan, but I couldn’t believe that they could do something similar to my cousin. I ran, alarmed, and threw myself into my mother’s arms.
    â€˜Mum, why did they cut him? Why did they hurt him?’ The chanting and applause continued. I felt like I was the only one who realised the gravity of the situation.
    â€˜It’s nothing, Michelle. They didn’t do anything to him,’ Mum replied, caressing my head.
    â€˜But he’s bleeding!’
    â€˜It’s just a little cut, just a little skin,’ she insisted. ‘See? Your aunt already took him over there. Now they’ll put a nice bandaid on his wound.’
    â€˜And why do they do this?’ I asked, still disturbed.
    Mum looked around the room, perhaps trying to find Dad. She hesitated a bit before responding, ‘What did Baba tell you?’
    â€˜He said that after, Khalid could go to the mosques with the grown-ups and that this would make him a man. But I don’t want it!’ I grabbed onto her again.
    â€˜What don’t you want?’
    â€˜I don’t want them to do the same thing to me!’
    Mum laughed softly and took my face between her hands. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t do anything to you. Only boys get circumcised.’
    â€˜And little girls?’ I wasn’t completely convinced.
    â€˜Little girls become big all by themselves.’

‘Alone, I’m telling you. He lets them go out by themselves after school. Raghdde is eleven years old now; she’s not a child anymore. Mohamed should be more careful.’ Aunt Elham’s voice drifted from the kitchen. She and Kasside hadn’t heard me come in. I knew they were talking about my family because my aunts had called me Raghdde since I was small. I stood to listen, hiding behind the wall.
    â€˜You’re right. He shouldn’t give the girls so much freedom. Now Raghdde’s taking drawing lessons too. And not to mention ballet!’ the other one replied.
    â€˜That is too much! Dancing half-naked in front of strangers? I would never let my daughters do something like that!’
    â€˜And Jana lets them do whatever they want. It’s no wonder Raghdde puts strange ideas into my Renà’s head. The other day she got upset because she wanted to be like her cousin. But I said, “No, I don’t want to hear about ballet.” Girls who play around in their underwear