The lost oases

by Ahmad Muhammad Hasanayn

THE HOUSE OF SAYED EL ABID

Sheepskins of water are seen hanging from their tripods to cool in the shade, and beneath them are shallow copper pans. In the foreground is a tea-pot.

The Bedouin of Cyrenaica has in him the blood of the Arabs who passed through the north of Africa on their way to Spain. Although he has mixed with other native tribes of North Africa, he still preserves the old Arab tradition. In the case of murder, among the Senussis, the Bedouins have their own law. As a rule the Senussi ikhwan intervenes as a peaceful intermediary. He takes the murderer and an old member of his tribe and goes to the murdered man’s camp, pitching camp near-by. The ikhwan then approaches the family of the murdered man, saying, “He who murdered your man is here”; and, taking him by the hand, he adds: “This is he who murdered your son. I hand him over to you that you may do as you will with him.” Usually the answer is, “May God forgive him, and may God’s justice and mercy fall upon him.” Thereupon the ikhwan starts arranging for the blood-money, which is generally three thousand dollars and a slave, the market value of the latter being known. The injured party may choose between accepting the money or having its equivalent in camels, sheep, or other commodities. The money may be paid in instalments extending over from one to three years, and the arrangement is generally carried through. In very rare cases or a deep-rooted feud the family of the deceased refuse to accept blood-money, which means that they intend to kill the murderer himself, or else one of his relations or a leading member of his tribe.

Bedouin boys and girls mix freely; it is only in the higher families that the women are kept in seclusion. As a rule a boy knows his sweetheart, and he goes to her camp and sings to her, generally in verse of his own making. If she likes him, she comes out and answers his song, not rarely in words of her own composition also. The boy then goes and asks for the girl from her people, paying a dowry if an agreement is reached. Then with ceremonial he goes with his friends and takes the girl home to his camp amid displays of horsemanship and much firing of guns. Cases have been known of elopements, which usually end in feuds between tribes, for the Bedouins look upon the man as having stolen the girl from them. There is a marriage contract, in many cases drawn up by the ikhwan, and the marriage takes place according to the Moslem religion. Marriages take place at a very early age, according to the development of the girl, who may be thirteen or fourteen, while the boy is between seventeen and twenty. Bedouins who can afford it marry more than one wife, but in that case the first wife remains the mistress of the house and takes precedence even over the favorite wife in anything that has to do with household management.

I have heard of many cases of lads going off their heads through falling in love with a girl they could not marry. A Bedouin boy once came to me to ask for medicine. He looked very frail. He was slim, with a rather refined face, and spoke very little. “I have come to ask you for medicine to give me health,” he said. He shook his head when I asked what was his ailment and answered, “God knows best.” There was something queer about the boy, something that puzzled me, but as usual in these cases a few malted milk tablets were wrapped up carefully in paper and given to him with strict orders not to take more than three each day. When the boy had gone, an elderly man came to my tent. He squatted on the floor. “May God give you health and make your hand give recovery. My son came to you just now, and you gave him medicine. I have come to explain his ailment. He is always weak and afflicted by headaches. When night falls he shuns everybody and seeks solitude; often he goes out to spend the night in the open.”

I told the old man that the medicine I had given the boy was the only one I had that might give some relief. “Recovery comes from God,” replied the man in a sad voice. “We know his remedy, but it is decreed that he should not have it. The boy is in love with a girl whose parents refused to give her to him in marriage.”

“Why don’t you make an effort, if you know this is the reason of your son’s illness, and try to get the girl in marriage for your son?”

“It is too late, now,” replied the father. “She is already married. But God knows best . . . She may be many days’ journey away from here, but she is suffering from the same ailment.” With that he rose and left my tent, a resigned, pathetic figure.

At Jalo, as at Jaghbub, there were no camels waiting for me when I arrived. But the reason was not the same, nor the uncertainty so disturbing. The hire of the necessary camels had been arranged for, and Omar Bu Helega, their owner, was ready to start just as soon as the beasts returned from grazing. No good Bedouin starts out on a long trek until his camels have been fattened and especially have had their fill of green fodder. A long stretch like that to Kufra, with no grazing on the way, means feeding the camels on dried dates exclusively. Dates, say the camelmen, are hot on the liver. Therefore, they prepare their animals for the ordeal by a course of green feeding before they start.