The Black Burqa part seven -
The Black Burqas have attracted the notice of the patriarchy. I
know this because they sent a man dressed in a black burqa with the
intention of signing up. So they found a short guy, got him to talk
in a squeaky voice and to walk without stamping his feet. He lasted
about five minutes. He wasn't even able to lift 100 kilograms,
so we ripped off his burqa and checked his genitals. Busted!
Some of the sisters were all for punishing him severely and sending
him on his way, a few wanted to kill him, but Sfiyah came up with a
very clever idea. "We can keep him, and use him to feed misleading
information back to his bosses."
"Never," he said, "I won't betray my brothers." "Then you're no
use to us," said Sfiyah, "give him to Basma, she'll play with him
for a while and then kill him." Basma lifted her face veil, showed
her teeth in a chilling grin, and licked her lips. Then she pulled
out her tiny, but very sharp, knife.
"What do you want me to do?" asked the terrified man. "Give him to
me," I said, "I'll look after him, and if he resists, Basma, you
can have him." Basma really hates men, and enjoys hurting them;
long term. He'd probably lose his sanity after a few weeks. But
I'd take care of him, and he'd be great as a double agent.
So I took him home. Raafid wanted to know who she was, and why she
was in his home? "Your home?" I asked. "Your home," he amended. "And
mind your own business, this is Black Burqa business." Raafid shut
up. He knew his place, and definitely didn't want a couple of Black
Burqas on his case. And for obvious reasons, he thought that the
person in this particular black burqa was a woman.
"What's your name," I asked my fearful captive. "Abdullah," he
replied. "So now you're also my slave," I told him. "And you will
continue to wear your burqa and pose as a woman." Abdullah swallowed
and nodded.
I interrogated him about his mission, and how he was to report
back to his superiors. As we talked, I held his hand, squeezing
very gently by with the implied threat that I could crush it like
a toothpaste tube. And I reminded him about Basma, and her tiny,
but very sharp, knife. So he told me everything, and he was too
terror-stricken to make up any lies.