“He’s a beggar from the mosque,” ​​her father continued. “You’re blind, he’s poor. A good match for you.” She felt as if the blood had drained from her face. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She had no choice. Her father never gave her choices.

The next day, she was married in a small, hurried ceremony. Of course, she never saw his face, and no one dared describe it to her.

Her father pushed her toward the man and told her to take his arm. She obeyed like a ghost in her own body. Everyone laughed behind her hands, murmuring, “The blind girl and the beggar.” After the ceremony, her father gave her a small bag with some clothes and pushed her back toward the man.“Now it’s your problem,” he said, and walked away without looking back.