A Letter to the President

A faint smile came across our faces on that day in October 1999. While this marriage was thrust upon us with the nikah being read over military loudspeakers, we did not protest it. As we learned of your non-feudal and middle class background, growing up with a learned civil servant for a father, and a mother who worked for a global institution, we were filled with a sense of hope that perhaps you would be modern and sane. As you brought in a team of technocrats, with actual and relevant experience to their cabinet portfolios, we accepted that perhaps you would be in fact be better than your abusive civilian and military predecessors. As the honeymoon ended, we expected some of your hidden qualities to emerge, which first reared their head in 2002, undoubtedly resulting in your supposed idol, Ataturk, rolling in his grave. But we ignored it, as you placated us with a larger monthly stipend, and we ran off to buy ourselves something pretty. As you insulted and slandered the victims of our tribal jirgas and justice system to the Western media, we rationalized it as eccentricity and as passionate commitment to defending our family. Last March, we saw a striking example of your jealousy and your possessive side, and we waited for it to die down. Alas, your condition only worsened, and while we attempted counselling with Dr. Rice, we weren't too thrilled at her suggested stop-gap solution of introducing a mistress into the equation. Your jealousy reached new bounds when you refused to let us talk to anyone about your behaviour, and insisted we always believe your side of the story. Then you started locking us in the basement, which you laughably insisted was for own safety, perhaps wishing we would fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. Now, as you let us out to demonstrate to the neighbourhood that you are no tyrant, there are sadly only three words left in this marriage – talaq, talaq, talaq.