Jumping off the cliff was what I have to do. I open my arms, lean forward and fall. I turn my head and look behind me to see my breath still sitting on the edge of the cliff. Laughing, I face forward ready to take on what is ahead of me. I’ve never felt so exhilarated as I swoop down gracefully, feeling the wind blow my hair from my face. Finally free from everything. As I skim the bottom of the clear blue sky I don’t think about anything. Pure bliss I feel as I’m falling, falling through the air, nothing but the sound of… Rajiha, Rajiha!

“Rajiha, Raji? Raji? Why are you sleeping?” my youngest sibling, Khalid, asks me. He is the only one who knows my secret hiding place, a personal size hill surrounded by a little moat of garbage filled water. I call it, ironically, my refuge from my refugee camp. This is one of the few green places left in the camp. My little brother is the only one who knows of my island’s existence because I know he will not tell a soul. I don’t want any of the other kids to discover and destroy it. I come here when I am in need of solitude.

“Raji, we have to hurry, Baba has called a family meeting. Come on, we really have to go!” Khalid urges. Taking my hand in his small dusty one, he pulls me up and together we leap over the moat. The last time Baba called a family meeting, it was when he told us that Mama had died from a sickness that passed through the camp. On the day she died I was playing with the neighbour’s daughter. My big brother Nasir came and brought me to Baba who shared the terrible news. Khalid was just a baby at the time, and since then I have tried my best to look after him.
When we arrive at our tent I see that my older brother is already there. I admire Nasir. Although he is only thirteen, he already carries himself like a man.

Nasir stands beside Baba on the far side of the tent. I look into Baba’s face with an inquisitive gaze but his face reveals nothing. I take off my hijab, and sit down on the floor as Khalid comes and plops himself on my lap.
“Baba? What is wrong?” I ask, concerned. When he doesn’t reply I turn to Nasir confused and whisper, “Nasir? What is the problem?

“I do not know.” he whispers back, worry evident in his voice.

After a few minutes of heavy silence, Baba finally speaks, “Rajiha, you will be leaving soon. I have found you a husband and he will look after you now.” His word hit me like cold water to the face.

“Baba, you cannot be serious, Raji is only nine years old! She cannot marry yet, she is too young!” Nasir exclaims.
“Nowhere in the Qur’an does it specify the age in which a girl is ready to marry. She will be fine.”  Baba replies indifferently.

“No Baba,” little Khalid says through tears, “do not take her away, please Baba.” Khalid breaks my heart with his helpless pleas.

I wake up from an initial state of shock and tell Baba, “No, I will not marry. I need to be here for Khalid. He has already have lost his Mama. Baba, you cannot do this to him, to me. Please no Baba, please.” I plead.

“It is finished. Shemal was in need of a wife and he has agreed to pay a good price.”

“You sold me?” I whisper to myself in disbelief.

“With the money I receive,” Baba continues, “I can buy food for your brothers. If we don’t receive this money, one of us could get sick like your mother. Your sacrifice will benefit the family.”

“You sold me?!” I repeat, shrieking as betrayal burns through my heart.

“Baba, Shemal is nearly six times Raji’s age, Mama wouldn’t want you to sell her daughter to an old man, especially when she is only nine years old. I will not allow you to do such a thing! Did you not hear about what happened to Ishtar?” Baba stares at him blankly, “The twelve-year-old girl who lives near the water station? She had just gotten married. Her new adult husband, and a friend of his, took her outside of camp and raped her until she died.” I gasp in disbelief at what Nasir is saying.

“Then they dragged her broken body farther outside of camp and buried her.” Nasir continues. “But, she wasn’t dead, she regained consciousness and dug herself out of the ground and got help. You cannot let anything like this happen to Raji. What happens if he kills her? Or uses her body for his own pleasure until she too is broken? Is this what you want for your only daughter?” Nasir shouts, his fists clenched and his face red.

“Nasir, you are frightening me.” I say softly as I reach for his hand.

“Raji, I don’t mean to scare you, but I cannot let this happen to you.” Turning back to Baba with his hand still in mine, he boldly states, “We will be fine Baba. If food is an issue, I am willing to cut my rations, but I will not let you take her away.”

 “Boy, sit down.” Baba boomed. “There is nothing that can be done. I am going to get Shemal now.” With a huff, Baba left the tent.
         

Tears that I had been trying to hold back suddenly burst out and cascade down my face. Through blurry vision I reach out to my brothers. Nasir begins to hum a lullaby Mama used to sing, calming me down.
         

When Khalid falls asleep in our arms, Nasir pauses the lullaby and asks me, “Promise me that you will not let a man take advantage of you or your body. Promise me.”
         

“Yes, I promise. I would rather die than have someone touch me against my will. But nothing like that will happen. Don’t worry Nasir, I will be alright.”
         

“May Allah protect you.”Nasir blesses me before resuming humming the lullaby.
         

“I love you so much.” I whisper to my brothers. I just cannot bear to think of a life without them. Knowing that these are the last moments we will all be together, we hold on to each other tightly, rocking back and forth slightly to my mother’s song.

~

That evening Baba returns with Shemal in tow. I try to hide my shaking hands. I barely know this man, and I am expected to wed him, to bed him - I cannot do that.

Baba beckons me forward with a flick of the wrist. Obediently I come, straightening my hijab and making sure to avert my eyes so that I don’t seem disrespectful.

“This is Rajiha. She is nine years old.” My father says to Shemal, as if I am a cow he is auctioning.

The man looks me over once and mumbles, “She will do.” His whole demeanour is utterly abhorrent as he scratches his greasy greying beard. “And you are sure she is a virgin?” He asks, to my disgust.

“Yes.” Baba grunts impatiently. It feels as though I am so great a nuisance that Baba cannot wait to get rid of me. This causes my eyes to fill with water.

Tapping his fingers on his thigh, my father looks at Shemal expectantly, “Oh yes,” Shemal shrewdly begins, “As agreed, seventy dinars.” He pulls out a wad of cash and flips through it, pulling out seventy dinars. I feel a pang in my chest when I realize that this is how much I am worth to my own father, seventy dinars.

Baba greedily snatches the money out of Shemal’s cracking hand.

“Come, girl.” Shemal rudely states. Taking one last look at my family, I walk out, hoping my sacrifice will indeed sustain my family as Baba said.

Shemal walks very fast, and I have a hard time keeping up. As we walk, I begin to weep for my family whom I will never see again. Nasir and little Khalid – and even Baba. I debate trying to run away from Shemal, but then realize that he can most definitely outrun me. My crying eventually slows to a stop and I look around. Having just passed the borders of the camp, we continue our relentless trek. A fingernail moon is at its peak in the sky and a tiny yawn escapes my mouth. Still we press on, walking until the camp is but a dot in the distance.

Trying to distract myself from the agonizing pain coming from my blistered feet, I find the courage to talk to Shemal, “Where are we going?” I ask him innocently, but he doesn’t even acknowledge that I was speaking to him. Attempting another question, I ask, “Do you live outside the camp?” He ignores me and continues walking. I try once more, “Will we be having a wedding?”

Stopping abruptly, Shemal turns and finally makes eye contact with me. His eyes show pure annoyance and irritation, “We are not going to be married, I have other plans for you.” He lifts up his shirts and reveals a pistol tucked beneath his waistband. I shutter involuntarily.

“What are you going to do with me?” I begin to panic, “Take me home, this is not what my Baba agreed to. I am a free born Muslim. You have to take me home.”

Pulling his shirts back over his waistband he fumes, “Do not test me girl! If I hear but one more word come out of your mouth, I will not hesitate to kill you.” My eyes once again begin to well up with tears. I have never been so scared in my life. I follow him obediently as I try to stop my hands from shaking. He is going to kill me. I am going to be dead. No, better yet, he is going to take me far into the wilderness and rape me. Then kill me and leave my body to rot.  Thousands of scenarios of what his plans were for me run through my head as we walk through the night.

~

Just when I feel I cannot walk anymore, the sun breaks through the sky, shedding light through the flat dusty plains.

After stopping to pray, we walk until we reach an empty highway. Shemal sits on the side of the road and pull out a small phone. As he talks on the phone in a hushed tone, I fall in a heap on the ground a few feet away. My feet are dry and cracked up and my back is sore. I have not done so much walking in a very long time. What will happen when we reach wherever we reach? What will I be forced into doing? I could try and fight back, but that would be no use, I am much too small.

As I sit, pondering again about what the fate of my life will be, I look up and see that Shemal is lying on the side of the highway, fast asleep. Taking this as my one chance, I get up, ready to sprint away, but then I remember the pistol in his waistband. If I don’t take it out, he could wake up and shoot me dead for sure. The flat Jordanian wasteland has few areas to hide, so if I at least took his gun, I could have protection.

Sneaking up to him with valour, I unbutton his shirt. This close, I hear him snore in a loathsome manner. As I open his shirt, a wave of repulsive body odour rolls over me. I barely stifle a sneeze. Under his shirt he wears a very dirty and slimy wife-beater. I see the outline of the pistol hidden underneath. Cringing, I slowly peel away the sticky undershirt from the man’s body, and after a couple of agonizingly painful minutes I finally reveal the pistol. I swiftly pull it from the waistband and Shemal does not even stir. Not wasting any time, I hide the pistol in the hem of my skirt and run onto the highway.

Stopping momentarily in the centre of the highway, I do not know which way to run. I can run along the highway, or I can go back home, to the refugee camp. It then dawns to me that the camp will be the first place Shemal will go to look for me, so I cannot go back. My only other choice is to follow the highway. I do not know the geography of Jordan very well, but I do know that all highways lead to cities, so I head that way hoping I will reach one sooner or later.

I run along the highway with adrenaline pumping through my blood, but to my dismay by noon I am completely worn out. My hijab and long skirt do a spectacular job at trapping heat causing me to be drenched in sweat. The sun is still high in the sky, but I cannot go anymore. I look south and in the distance, I see a little van driving up the road. Perhaps they will give me a ride to the nearest city. Waiting patiently for them to reach me, I wave them down and to my delight they stop.

Out steps a young man, “Are you alright girl? What are you doing in the middle of nowhere all by yourself?”

I try to reply, but my throat is dried out, and as a result my voice gets caught in my throat.

Seeing my struggle the man runs back into his van and grabs a bottle of water. “Take a sip of this.” He urges me.
Taking the precious water greedily, I gulp down the entire bottle. Clearing my throat I respond, “Thank you very much sir. I am afraid I am lost, is there anyway you could drive me to the nearest city? I will be able to find my own way from there.”

“Yes, that would be fine. As long as you don’t mind riding in the back of the van.”

“No, not at all. Thank you again so much, you don’t know how grateful I am that you arrived.” I sigh in relief.
“Do not worry about it.” The saviour-man says with a smile. “Come.” He beckons me to the back of the van and opens the doors. I climb in happily as he slams the doors shut. That is when I realize that the van is designed so that the back is like a cage. Being just the right size to stand up and not touch the roof, I walk around the small cell. It is dark because the tinted windows keep out light, but the metal bars glisten around me.

“Can I sit in the front?” I cry into the front seat. “It is like a prison in here.” I chuckle nervously.

“I am so sorry, but I have to keep you were you are. Just try to get comfortable.” He cooed, but I now realized that he was not genuine. A phone starts to ring, and I hear him pick it up.

“Hello? Mmmhmm…Yeah I have her here.” Is he talking about me? To whom? A light bulb goes off in my head, it must be Shemal he was talking to. “Yes, yes. I think I am going to take her straight to the brothel.” A brothel? For prostitutes?  He wanted to sell my body for sex? I think back to when Nasir warned Baba that they were going to take advantage of my body.

“No, no, no.” I whimper. This cannot be happening. I curl up in a ball and rock myself, trying to imagine that I was not in the middle of Jordan, locked up in a van with a stranger, but at home, in Nasir’s arms, listening to him hum a lullaby.

My fantasy is short-lived as I hear the man continue on the phone, “Yes, I know. She is just what we need. She is a perfect replacement for Shakira. Yes, though, I think I might test her out before I take her there, if you know what I mean.” he chuckles to himself. “I know… She is too pretty for her own sake, you can’t blame me for wanting a test the merchandise. I will definitely enjoy it.” I could hear the smug smile in his voice.

This man is going to rape me. An image of my own body wasted and broken, like Ishtar’s must have been, lying in the dust, helplessly digging myself out of the earth flashes through my mind. No, I will not let him. I promised Nasir that I wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of me. I have to go. Frantically banging on the bars, I try to force them open, but I am too weak.

“No!” I scream. “Let me out!” I bang on the bars, trying to get his attention.

“Shut up,” the man bellows back to me before resuming talking on the phone to Shemal.

I become hysteric as I push and pull the bars, but they do not budge. No, I cannot let him rape me.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” I repeat over and over again. I feel so claustrophobic in here. Falling to the ground, I break down in sobs. Reaching into the hem of my skirt, I know what to do.

BAM!!! I feel a flash of pain and then nothing, I’m falling, falling through the air, nothing but the sound of… Rajiha, Rajiha!

“Rajiha, come here my child.”

I turn around and in the darkness I see my mother’s face. “Mama?”

Without hesitation I run into her arms and she holds me close and sings her soft lullaby.