Four years passed. To Deeqa, they were the most vibrant, terrifying, and precious years of her life. They were the years of Amal.
Amal was not a quiet, placid child like Deeqa had been. She was a whirlwind. She was fearless, chasing chickens with shrieks of laughter, her small legs pumping, her hair a wild halo in the sun. She climbed everything she could. She asked questions constantly, a stream of "why's" that both exhausted and delighted her parents. She was, in a word, uncut. There was a wholeness to her, an untamed energy that Deeqa watched with a fierce, protective love that was so intense it often felt like a physical pain in her chest.
This joy, however, was lived inside a bubble of ever-shrinking size. Outside the walls of their small home, the world had grown cold. Their defiance had not been forgotten. It was a constant, simmering topic of gossip in the compound.
The whispers followed Deeqa in the market. The other women would fall silent when she approached, their eyes following her with a mixture of pity and accusation. Invitations to weddings and baby-naming ceremonies grew scarce. She was an outsider in her own community, a woman who had chosen a strange, foreign path over the shared experience that bound them all.
Ahmed felt it too. The easy camaraderie he once shared with the other men had evaporated. His business, which relied on community trust and relationships, had begun to suffer in small, subtle ways. A contract lost, a shipment delayed, a loan called in early. Nothing he could prove was deliberate, but the chill was undeniable. He grew more tired, more withdrawn, the lines around his eyes deepening. But whenever he looked at Amal, a stubborn resolve would harden his features. He had made a promise.
The pressure was most acute from his mother, Faduma. She had never forgiven the humiliation of the dinner party. She treated Asha’s name like a curse and saw Amal not as a grandchild, but as a problem to be solved.
She cornered Deeqa one afternoon as Amal, now four and a half, played with pebbles in the dust.
"She is getting old," Faduma said, her voice low and sharp, nodding toward the child. "People are talking. They say the daughter of Ahmed is still unclean. That his wife has filled his head with the poison of her foreign sister."
Deeqa’s hands tightened on the basket of laundry she was holding. "She is perfect as God made her, mother-in-law."
Faduma let out a hiss of air. "God expects us to guide our children. To prepare them for this world. Are you preparing her for a life with no husband? No honor? She is almost five. When will you do your duty? When will you make her clean?"
The question was not a question. It was a command. The grace period was over. Deeqa looked at her laughing, oblivious daughter, and a cold dread washed over her. The whispers were getting louder. The walls of their small bubble were beginning to close in.
Section 15.1: Ostracism as a Weapon
The events in this chapter illustrate the primary weapon used by collectivist societies to enforce conformity: ostracism. When open violence is not used, social death is the next most powerful tool. The community is not attacking Deeqa and Ahmed physically; it is systematically erasing them from the social fabric.
This is a form of soft totalitarianism, and it operates on several levels:
Gossip as Surveillance: The "whispering compound" is not just idle chatter. It is a highly effective, decentralized surveillance network. Every action Deeqa takes, every word she says, Amal's age, her behavior—it is all monitored, reported, and judged against the community standard. This creates a panopticon effect, where the knowledge of being constantly watched is enough to pressure individuals into conforming.
Social Shunning: The un-returned greetings and the lack of invitations are deliberate, strategic acts. They serve to isolate the non-conformist, cutting them off from the emotional and practical support of the community. In a society where the collective is the primary unit of identity, being shunned is not a minor inconvenience; it is a profound threat to one's sense of self and security.
Economic Strangulation: Ahmed’s business troubles demonstrate how social pressure translates into economic hardship. In societies that run on personal trust and reputation, being deemed an outcast can be financially devastating. This is a powerful lever to force a family back into line. You can defy social norms, the community says, but it will cost you your livelihood.
The "Concerned" Intervention: Faduma’s confrontation is the classic escalation. It is framed as an act of concern ("I'm worried about the girl's future"), but it is an ultimatum in disguise. Her question—"When will you do your duty?"—is the moment the soft pressure becomes a hard demand.
The goal of this multi-pronged attack is not necessarily to destroy the family, but to "correct" them. It is a form of coercive group therapy designed to cure them of their deviant ideas and bring them back into the fold. The community is squeezing them, increasing the pressure incrementally, to see at what point they will break. Faduma’s ultimatum signals that the time for passive pressure is over. The price of their hope is about to be named, and the community will demand its payment.