The first words of Arabic that I learned when I came to Saudi Arabia were “Maafi walad?” (No sons). My landlady (in Jeddah) plus the wife of the district umda, as well as those of various other locals always asked me after seeing my two daughters: “No sons?” Then, as if I needed consolation, they would begin a vociferous prayer, beseeching Allah to grant me sons.
Nine years later and I still have two girls and no son. My landlady told me one day it was necessary to have a son. I told her it was Allah’s will that I had none. She then said — in all seriousness — that if I were unable to have a son, I should find my husband a second wife! Trying to make the conversation lighter, I said, “Your husband has only one wife. How can you expect my husband, who is American, to have more than one wife when he could go to jail for bigamy?” My landlady stared at me with uncomprehending perplexity and answered, “But I have given my husband 12 children, five of whom are boys. You have only two and they are both girls.”
Maha, a Jordanian friend, recently had a third daughter. Her husband, Tarek, was devastated. “I desperately wanted a son. I was convinced that this time it would be a boy so disappointment was natural.” Tarek said he knows that he is fortunate to have daughters, but he still wants a son. “My son will carry my name after me.” I wondered what the importance of carrying a family name is when so many families bear the same last name.
Tarek admitted he didn’t understand that but nevertheless, he wanted a boy because in the Arab world, it is important to have one. And not having one was a blow to his pride. “But I do love my daughters now.”
Maha said she was disappointed but only for a short time. “I had a difficult labour, so I was happy to have a healthy daughter. I feel sorry for my husband because in our culture, men who have sons are highly respected. My mother-in-law has seven sons and one daughter. She wanted a son for us. I hope if I have another child, it’s a boy. I’ll name him Rami.” By the way, Maha and Tarek had still not named their two-week-old daughter.
Amina, an Indian, really wanted a son, but had a fourth daughter. “I was disappointed initially, but my baby could have died because the umbilical cord was wrapped round her neck, so I was overjoyed to have a live, healthy baby. My husband wanted a son, too, but now he adores his little girl who has just started crawling. Other peoples’ reactions were simply amazing. They were uncomfortable about congratulating us. Some told us the religious advantages of having daughters. My husband’s Arab co-workers expressed sympathy and told him to keep trying and he would ultimately have a son.”
Jehad, a Palestinian, is her parents’ firstborn. Her father was disappointed because he wanted a son. He selected the name, Jehad, and began calling his pregnant wife, Umm-i-Jehad. Jehad hates her masculine name because she was the victim of teasing in school. Somebody told Jehad’s father that if he gave his daughter a male name, he would have sons in future. And, in fact, Jehad has three brothers.
Dr Osamah Abdul Ghani is a Syrian obstetrician-gynaecologist, who specializes in fetal medicine. He works for the Erfan Bagedo Hospital. While performing ultrasound, he often discovers the gender of the unborn child. “The majority of women think they are carrying a boy, so when they hear it’s a girl, they are very disappointed. ‘Are you sure?’ they ask me or tell me that they dreamed that the baby was a boy. How could it be a girl?
“And this is the case, no matter how intelligent and educated the woman is. And there has been no change in this trend with the passage of time and development and modernization. The mothers recover from the surprise quickly. The fathers, however, usually remain expressionless. I don’t usually mention the subject of gender unless the patient wants to know.
“If it’s a boy, I ask them if they want to know the child’s sex. If it’s a girl, I emphasize how lucky they are to have a baby that seem healthy and strong. I see many babies with complications. I tell them all this so they will realize their good luck.” Dr Osamah said that westerners normally do not care about the sex of the child. “They are more concerned about the baby being normal and healthy.”
The first words of Arabic that I learned when I came to Saudi Arabia were “Maafi walad?” (No sons). My landlady (in Jeddah) plus the wife of the district umda, as well as those of various other locals always asked me after seeing my two daughters: “No sons?” Then, as if I needed consolation, they would begin a vociferous prayer, beseeching Allah to grant me sons.
