I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced

I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced is the easy-to-read memoir of a remarkable little Yemeni girl, Nujood Ali, who was both married and divorced before she was 11 years old.

10-year-old Nujood had just started her second year of school when her father announced he’d accepted an acquaintance’s request to marry her.

“One less mouth to feed,” Nujood heard her father tell her mother. Besides, the 30-year-old husband had promised “not to touch” Nujood until she was older.

Yemen’s vague child-marriage laws permitted the marriage and their religion seemed to encourage it. Two weeks later, the men of both families got together and signed the papers.

Immediately, Nujood's husband broke his promise “not to touch” her, and he beat her every night to make her comply. She cried to his family for help, but her mother-in-law only told her son to beat Nujood harder.

The story might stay there – as it does for many child brides around the world.
But Nujood is no ordinary little girl. How she fought for – and won -- a divorce is astonishing and inspiring.

I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced will open your eyes to the prevalence and horror of child marriages in so many parts of the world, but it will do more than that.

The courage of this one little girl, and the kindness and conviction of the adults who helped her, will also give you hope: when we perform simple acts of bravery and kindness for those who are vulnerable, we truly can change our world.

By Nujood Ali with Delphine Minoui, published by Three Rivers Press, New York.

-- Reenie

Invisible Mothers
A week from today,
     we’ll send sweet cards,
     make long-distance phone calls
     and buy bunches and bunches of flowers.

Many mothers will be honoured and praised and cheered.
They deserve every bit of that, and a whole lot more.

But there are women among us,
     also mothers,
     who won’t receive cards,
     flowers,
     or phone calls.

These women won’t receive praise or honor.
No one will rise and call them blessed.
They're invisible.

They are women who used to be mothers,
     but lost children -- to death, to marital break-up, to estrangement, to abduction.

They are women who gave their hearts and lives to raising children,
     but received only pain in return.

They are women who tried to become mothers,
     but were stymied by infertility, miscarriage, or failed adoption....or all three.

They are women who gave birth before they were ready to be mothers...
     and placed their children for adoption,
     so their child could have a mother...
     and another woman could have a child.

They are women who were unexpectedly pregnant and chose to abort their babies...
     and have carried guilt and sorrow every day since.

They are women who dreamed, expected, and longed to be married and have children,
     but for whom God had other plans.

They are women who quietly, lovingly, sacrificially mother other people’s children...
     and are called aunt,
     big sister,
     teacher,
     caregiver,
     and friend
     but never ever “Mother”.

They are women all around us.

     We see them every day.
     We admire them.
     We laugh with them.
     We benefit from what they do.

But, somehow, on Mother’s Day,
     they slide into the shadows.

They are Invisible Mothers.

This Mother’s Day,
     let's pray God opens our eyes
     to see the longings, sorrows and sacrifices
     of all the mothers...
     even those who are invisible.

-- Reenie