Zeinab Al-Itribi
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I was born and spent my childhood with my family and sisters in the village of Ikhtab,
Qaliubiya. The whole village consisted of the family houses of my aunts and uncles and their families. My father graduated from Al-Azhar where he obtained his ‘Alamiya degree. He was an enlightened man who appreciated knowledge and respected intellectuals. My mother, who was a relative of his, had a mature, respectable and strong personality. Our house in the village was a meeting place where the women of the family would gather daily after sunset prayers, visiting being the only available form of amusement at the time. My older sisters were sent to be educated in the city of Mansoura where they joined the boarding section of Mansoura Primary School. My eldest sister only obtained her primary education certificate. When I - the youngest - reached the age for joining school, my sister started teaching me English. Then I joined the village school to study Arabic and mathematics. The school was run under the supervision of the Ministry of Education. After taking an exam in science, I went to fourth grade at Mansoura Primary School where I joined my sisters at the boarding section. We would spend our time at school, going back to the village only on holidays. During summer vacation we would busy ourselves with sewing and needle and art work.
I obtained my primary education degree from Mansoura School in 1924, and in 1925 my father decided to send me to Cairo for high school. I joined Shobra Secondary School for Girls where I spent 5 years in the boarding section until I graduated. Education fees were 40 Egyptian pounds a year and the headmistress was a distinguished woman, Insaf Serry. She was one of the first women to be sent abroad on a government scholarship and who then returned to teach other girls. The boarding section was run by an English woman called Miss. Hoffman who taught us many good habits that we have kept for the rest of our lives: order, discipline, punctuality and time management.
I used to travel back to the village to spend my holidays with my family. Traveling was a tough job at the time, though. I would take a taxi cab that would go to the provinces. I remember when I once had paratyphoid. It was also time for my secondary school (backaloriat) exam. I had to travel from my village to Cairo, sat for the exam with fever, shivering, while my finger nails turned blue. I was the first girl in the family to get secondary education. The issue of my education and hardships was the main concern and talk of the family women’s meetings in our village house. Relatives had conflicting feelings: the desire to educate their daughters on the one hand and the fear and worries they had regarding the difficulty of such a quest. I remained for a long time the only girl in the family who continued her education. At the time I was getting ready for secondary education in 1925, my cousin was getting ready for marriage. The rest of the family got only as far as third primary or less.
My bachaloriat results were announced and I came out as number 66 among those who passed. My father passed away that summer. My mother encouraged me to carry on what I started and go to Cairo and join the university. Indeed, I did apply to the university. I joined the university in 1930 and was among the second batch of women ever to the study at the Faculty of Arts. We were only 4 women at the time. I passed my first year and at the beginning of my second -when students were supposed to decide on their specialization- I received a visit from Mr. Kamil who was the office manager of Dr. Taha Hussein, Dean of the Faculty of Arts at that time. He informed me that Dr. Taha would like to meet me in his office. When I went to see him he told me that he had checked the results and that I had received the highest grades in Arabic among first year students. He thought that it would be better for me to join the Arabic Department. Having made up my mind, however, to join the Department of Geography which I loved, I apologized and informed him that geography was the discipline I preferred to study. He did not object to my wish.
Having obtained my BA from the Geography Department, I graduated in 1935 at the University of Fouad (now Cairo University) and in the same year I joined the Higher Institute of Education for Women in Zamalek. I obtained the Institute diploma, which qualified me for teaching, in 1937. My starting salary at the time was 15 Egyptian pounds. I was appointed at Helwan Secondary School for Girls whose staff was a mixture of English, French and Egyptian teachers. The main problem I faced was the lack of textbooks and having to create my own lesson planning notebook and notes to teach. I resorted to my university professors who each helped me in their respective specializations: Awad Beik, for instance, helped me with natural geography, Professor Hozayin, on the other hand, assisted with climate geography, and Mostapha Beik Amer helped with economic geography. I also collected English and French reference books such as Geography Universal and I spent a whole year working on my lesson planning notebooks. I would stay up late every night to prepare the following day’s lesson from my reference books which sometimes were as many as 11 books at the same time. I came to have 7 lesson planning notebooks that were praised by Youssef Beik Megalli, the then meticulous and well respected Inspector.
I lived at the boarding section of the school and picked a room on the second floor next to the geography room. I dug up the necessary maps and illustrations from the school store house to use in the geography room. I also established an observatory in the room. It had a windmill that calculated the speed and direction of the wind. The laboratory technician assisted me in installing these equipment. I also installed a barometer and a barograph to record atmospheric pressure, and a hydrometer to calculate the level of humidity. I used to ask my students to participate in writing a weekly bulletin that included pressure and wind reading and weather forecasts.
I remember that I could not visit the Japanese park in Helwan which was only a few minutes away from the school until the end of the school year, being so busy preparing and teaching. I would draw 4 maps on the board before the beginning of each class on which to work with the girls. Since most of the girls lived in Helwan or otherwise were in the boarding section, I would gather them for extra lessons and I always had a full class passing the exams.
My role in the classroom was not limited to teaching. I interfered with the students’ dress codes and hair styles. I liked my students very much and would volunteer advice to them. All my hard work during the school year would feel like nothing as soon as the results were out, my students’ success being my biggest reward. I taught at Helwan Secondary School for five years and was then transferred to Saniya School were I worked for four years. At that point I had got married and had two daughters. My mother then tried to dissuade me from work, offering to compensate me if I stopped teaching. She thought that teaching together with my new family commitments would tire me out. My response to her was: “Mother, I like teaching and cannot imagine my life without it.” I was then appointed at the Higher Institute of Education for Girls at Ain Shams University where I worked until I retired.
I am satisfied with my life and thank God for what I managed to achive. I especially feel rewarded and elated when I see my students succeed in their various fields. This is especially the case as many of them have come to occupy important positions and bacome very prominent in their fields.
 
 
The One in Invisible Dress
The word is mine.. the decision is mine, and the final say is mine, my dear. I created my own words, I arranged them, and when I felt like it, I spoke. I inherited my mother’s imagination, and my father’s curiosity and glory.
My mother dressed me like a boy, and introduced me to people as the toughest young man in town; though in fact I am as soft and tender as basil-leaf. My mother did what she did out of care and fear. She wanted to protect me from leading a life like hers; a life of fear, invisibility and deprivation. But she should have known that fear can never bring about any good. She deprived me of my gender the way she had been deprived of security and care. She hid me in the world of men for me to survive. But she never thought about my life: how could I live with myself, in constant fear. Death is better for me than living an invisible life.
You haven’t guessed yet who I am? It isn’t your fault. Those who live without seeking the truth are the ones to blame.
The day my mother introduced me to my father as one of their three sons, she was seeking her freedom. Nobody that day wanted to know the truth. Though it was as simple as a musical tune: a sound for a sound, a word for a word; girl for boy. But today, everyone must know. Today, the word is mine.. the decision is mine, and the final say is mine, my dear.
I am my mother’s daughter “the one in invisible dress”, who didn’t appear in the sultan’s presence that night. I’m Shehrazad’s third child, her daughter. My father is King Shahrayar; my aunt and only friend is Duniazad. Are you looking forward to hearing my story? It isn’t another one of the Thousand and One Nights. It is rather the true version of a story never told before.
If so, then why am I revealing it today? Well, today I’m celebrating my real birthday. It is the birthday of my mother’s true story: Shehrazad’s book, or the Thousand Tales I managed to record while listening to her stories from my hiding place underneath their bed. Every night I would listen to her tales, collecting the stories and writing down the ones I liked best... Once my mother was done with her story, each and every night, I would put on my father’s garb and walk off as the sultan’s son.
The day I turned twenty years old, I revealed my reality as the sultan’s daughter, who should be removed from the space of men. That day I decided to leave their land. No one knew that I had taken my mohter’s stories along.
Why do you think I had stayed so long dressed like a boy? Well, it’s a long story you’ll find written down in the Thousand and One Nights. Anyway, it was much easier for me to experience life being a boy. It was possible for me to travel around, riding my horse, swimming and talking to people here and there, looking straight into men’s eyes. Had they known I was a girl, I would have ended up in a house with three kids of my own, collecting wheat grains and complaining about my life to the trees and stars high above. Now, having been on the road travelling around, I heard incredible stories surpassing the tales of the jinn and sprites. It’s been three years now since I’ve left my people’s land. But whenever I am, I keep writing stories and thinking of my mother’s tales and care. I recently reached the land of Egypt, where I settled down. I now feel safe and satisfied, so I’m writing down stories - mine and hers - today.. on my birthday, for all of you to see that from now on my dear: the word is mine.. the decision is mine, and the final say is mine.
 
Nesma Idris

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