Chapter ThreeTwo clouds of rage had now emanated from Ziqaq Al Yasmin where I grew up. When I’d insisted on marrying Waseem, it had come from the older generation, and now that I was insisting on divorcing him, the younger generation was in an uproar. The telephone rang.
“Your cousin Hamida wants to talk to you,” my grandmother told me.
Her voice trembling with rage, Hamida demanded, “How dare you announce that you want a divorce after the hell you raised to marry this guy! How could you do this to me?”
“And what does that have to do with you?” I asked, taken by surprise.
Her answer pained me. “When I announced my decision to marry Suhayl, the guy I love, I was following your example after what you’d done with Waseem. And now they’re pushing back against me because your grand revolutio
