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Posted
Wednesday, February 04, 2009 10:46 AM
| By
Dayo Olopade
I don't know if it's been parsed here yet, but this story out of Yemen, ladies, is just remarkable:
[Nujood Ali's] ordeal began last February, when the family gathered to
celebrate her wedding to a motorcycle deliveryman in his 30s. She first
set eyes on the groom when she took her marriage vows. After spending
her wedding night with her parents and 15 brothers and sisters, Nujood
was taken by her new husband to his family village,
where, she says, he beat and raped her every night. ...
Nujood finally found her moment to escape one day, when her
mother gave her a few pennies and sent her out to buy bread. Instead
she took a bus to the center of the capital, Sanaa — a city of 3
million people — where she hailed a taxi and asked to be taken to the
courthouse. She had never been inside a courtroom but had once seen one
on television, she says, and knew it was a place where people went for
help. There she sat silently on a bench, uncertain as to what to do,
while crowds of people scurried past, scarcely glancing at the quiet
child.
She'd come to get a divorce. Though the repercussions for her abusers were minimal, to say the least--thank goodness she knew "where people go for help." In the wake of all our dolly-talk (and note, ahem, the overwhelming fertility of this poor girl's parents), I can't help but notice that Nujood is, of course, the age of Malia Obama. Here's hoping she takes over the world or something.
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