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Nana said, “Learn this now and learn it well, my daughter: Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam.”
“Goddamn it, Mariam, don’t do this to me,” he said as though he was the one to whom something was being done.
Because a society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated, Laila. No chance.
“Tell your secret to the wind, but don’t blame it for telling the trees.”
“One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.”
Though there had been moments of beauty in it, Mariam knew that life for the most part had been unkind to her. But as she walked the final twenty paces, she could not help but wish for more of it.
A woman who will be like a rock in a riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washes over her.
