Source: Review copy from Saqi Books – thank you.
I can’t believe I read this recently published paperback from Saqi books, specialiists in books from the Middle East & Northern Africa, at the end of April. It escaped being reviewed then somehow, but thankfully, it has lingered in my mind. One of my aims this year has been to read more widely from the MIddle East and Africa in particular – areas of the world that haven’t featured so strongly in my reading. I’ve managed four so far – by authors from Morocco, Sierra Leone, Nigeria and with this one, Kuwait.
l follows three generations of one family from Kuwait through the eyes of five strong women: In the present – Sara – a philosophy professor; Noura – her ambitious mother who took the family to America; Maria, from Goa, who left her own children to be ayah to Sara and her brother; and Yasmine and Lulwa, Sara’s grandmothers. The families become quite complicated, so l was glad that there were family trees at the front.
We begin though in the Noughties with Sara, now fortyish, at home in Kuwait with Maria, who still lives with them – and the first shock comes on the third page when two policemen turn up at her door.
“Duktora Sara Tarek Al-Ameed?” one of them asks.
I nod and smile reflexively. “That’s me.”
“You’re under arrest for blasphemy. Please go inside and get what you need for a few nights in jail. We’ll wait.” My face must convey a total lack of comprehension because he repeats what he’s said more slowly: “You are under arrest for blasphemy by order of the recent amendment to Article 111 of the Penal Code of the State of Kuwait. Please put a few things into a clear plastic bag and come with us.”
One of her students had recorded and reported her during a lecture about Spinoza in which she said “God is dead” (as Spinoza said). The sentence is death, but she may be allowed to retract the statement and plea for clemency.
It immediately strikes you that (western) philosophy has become an impossible subject to teach in a muslim country, and dare I say it, especially if you’re a woman, and doubly especially if you’re an American-educated woman. It’s a shocking and thought-provoking situation. As the novel progresses, we follow Sara’s slow progress towards trial, with a succession of lawyers and her brother and best friend’s help trying to get the Kuwaiti authorities to see reason.
Sara’s grandmothers have fascinating stories. On her mother’s side, Kuwait-born Lulwa marries up in 1924, attracting a rich Indian merchant who whisks her away to Poona in India where her mother Noura will be born. On her father’s side, Yasmine, born in Lebanon, marries the son of an Iraqi pasha in 1935, and soon regrets it. The detail that the author puts into the grandmothers’ lives is sumptuous, bringing them to life vividly, and giving a real sense of place. What stood out for me throughout though was all the families’ mobility around the middle east and India, and the diaspora to points further away, Noura heading over the pond to St Louis with her young family for some time before returning to Kuwait; Sara would return to the States to study later, again returning to her homeland. Alongside the family trees at the beginning of the book is a map showing all their travels.
On her return to Kuwait, Noura opened a small foreign language bookshop, smuggling in copies of The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie amongst other banned books. She’d been caught at customs once and had to sign a declaration that she wouldn’t do it again! Sara had inherited the bookshop, and comments,
There are still three copies of The Satanic Verses left in her bookshop, locked in a hidden box. None of my mother’s customers ask for Rushdie any more.
However, their ayah, Maria is more of a mother to Sara than Noura for a large part of her life. Maria had ended up an uneducated orphan in Poona and then a widow with three kids of her own making do on odd jobs, it’s a tough life. When she bumps into Noura’s grandmother and asks if there are any jobs going cooking, cleaning, looking after children, she strikes lucky – but going to Kuwait with the Al-Mustafa family will mean leaving her three children with her late husband’s family. But needs must. She will love Sara and Karim as her own.
This all builds into a powerful intergenerational story chronicling the lives of all the women and their places in society. It was an intense but rewarding read which I enjoyed. If you enjoy family histories with some hard-hitting moments, I’d recommend this book.
Source: Review copy – thank you! Saqi Books paperback, 2026, 366 pages. BUY at Amazon UK or Waterstones via my affiliate links.
