Once upon a time, there was a wealthy merchant’s trustee who had three sons. When his sons were old enough for marriage, he told his wife that it was time to find them wives.
“Let us first settle a thorny matter.” said his wife. “Having daughters-in-law in the same house will not be easy. The stories are endless of hatred, quarrelling, disrespect and shame between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law. They are always fighting like cats and dogs. I am a proud woman. I have reared my sons day and night, and they are the apple of my eye, God bless them! Good seed makes a good crop. I would never want to fight with their wives and cause trouble in their marriages, so it’s better to settle things beforehand. Give each one of them a house of his own, and may God bless their marriages! Distance between loved ones is better for everyone.”
“What you say is right,” her husband agreed.
So the old man started fixing, painting and furnishing the houses for his sons. Then each of his sons got married and lived in a house of his own. The merchant lived happily with his wife in their own house until the day came when he died.
After his death, the old woman lived in abundance with a maid, thanks to the money her husband had left.
After four or five years, the old woman started missing her sons, who hadn’t paid her one visit since they married. She also wanted to visit her daughters-in-law, to talk with them and spend a couple of days in each one’s home.
She sent word of her upcoming visit to her eldest son. The news reached him as he was working in his shop.
When the young man returned home, he forgot to tell his wife that his mother was coming.
The next morning, he went to the shop, forgetting again to tell her. He only remembered once he had opened his shop. So he bought the groceries, gave them to his worker and told him to take them to his wife and tell her that they would have a guest that day. Then his wife started cooking and preparing the table.
At eleven o’clock, a carriage stood in front of the house and the wife heard a knock on the door.
She saw her mother-in-law slowly coming down from the carriage with her cane in her hand and her servant beside her.
Suddenly, a frown fell upon the face of her daughter-in-law.
“How can she come on a day like this?” exclaimed the young woman to herself. “A day when I am having important guests!”
“Hello! How are you?” greeted the young woman. “It’s been too long!”
She took her mother-in-law to the living room and ordered her servant to prepare coffee for her while she finished preparing lunch.
At midday, the husband came home. He headed directly to the kitchen, as usual.
“What a nice smell!” he said.
“What is going on? Your mother is here!”
“Didn’t she give birth to me and nurse me?” he said.
“Her milk dried up a long time ago!” said his wife.
“But we should be happy to have her in our home!”
“Okay, let’s feed her a meal and throw her out!” she replied.
The old woman heard every word of what was said. She immediately ordered her servant to prepare the carriage to go. She started to put on her safsari which had been folded up. As she did, her son entered the room:
“Hello, mother. How are you? Why are you putting on your safsari?”
“I came to see you and make sure you were doing well,” she said. “I shall be going now.”
The young man was afraid of his wife’s reaction, so he did not object. He went with his mother to the carriage and bid her farewell.
When the old woman returned home, she said to herself: “I no longer have a son. He is dead to me.” She cried and sobbed as if she were truly mourning his death. Three days later, she cooked a special meal. At sunset, she said to her servant:
“Go ask the Koran reciters in the shrine of Sidi Abd El Kader to come. I am going to have a memorial service for your late master.” (In truth, the old woman intended the memorial to be not for her husband, but for her son!)
A week later, the old woman informed her second son of her visit. The same thing happened there, and the daughter-in-law uttered the same hurtful words, with no objection from the son. From that day on, she considered him to be dead also.
A week or two later, the old woman informed her third son of her upcoming visit.
At eleven o’clock, the carriage stood in front of the house. The old woman came to the house with her servant. As soon as the daughter-in-law saw her, she got very angry, but she begrudgingly welcomed her mother-in-law, made her some coffee, and went to finish preparing lunch.
The husband came home and said to his wife:
“What is this nice smell?”
“What good is that? Your mother is here!” she responded.
“Isn’t she my mother? The one that gave birth to me and nursed me?”
“Her milk dried up a long time ago!” said the wife.
“Then you will not spend another night in this house!”
The old woman, hearing them quarrel, ran to them, cursing herself. She said: “Calm down, my dear boy! What are you saying? Is this all because of me? I shall not be the cause of this!”
The young man persisted. He said to his wife, “We are now divorced! Forever! Pack your things and go to your father’s house!”
The old woman continued to blame herself for coming and causing such misfortune to her son.
“My two other sons, who favored their wives over me, are now living happily with their wives, while the son who defended me and was loyal to me is now alone!” cried the woman to herself. “What shall I do now?”
The old woman went to her husband’s brother, whose daughter was now old enough to get married. The old woman asked for her hand to be the wife of her third son. She said to him:
*Hold tight, and don’t be led astray,
The devil ever whispers to seduce
Talk earnestly; don’t trust hearsay,
nor and with your spouse, hold bitterness. make no excuse.
Think well and measure how you weigh.
Assess the roots before the vows you fuse
Your cousin’s hand will bless your way,
This proverb comes through timeless use:
whate’er you fashion, use your clay.
Though cracked, it still can steam couscous!
The final lines in this story are attributed to AbdelAziz El-Aroui, found recited here in the original Tunisian poetry. The last verse, a proverb, speaks of two pottery products, a burma (lower pot) and a keskas (the upper couscous steamer with holes that mounts on top of the burma.) The proverb literally states: What you form (on the wheel), form it with your own clay, If it can’t be a burma, it can be a keskas.
