logo

79 pages 2 hours read

Nadia Hashimi

The Pearl That Broke Its Shell

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2014

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Themes

Anxieties of Motherhood in a Patriarchal Society

The novel explores the dangers and anxieties of motherhood in an extremely patriarchal society. However, it also depicts motherhood as the sole solace for the oppressed women of traditional Afghan society. Rahima, Shekiba, and Raisa represent contrasting modes of motherhood.

Rahima is a child bride and is consequently a very young mother. Childbirth nearly kills her; were it not for the attention of Jameela, an experienced mother, Jahangir’s birth could have been disastrous. Rahima is a victim of a cruel and oppressive situation. In Abdul Khaliq’s house, she is the fourth wife of an abusive man. Having a son greatly improves her value to her husband; however, Jahangir remains more valuable than Rahima. If Abdul Khaliq were to disown Rahima, Jahangir would stay with him. When Jahangir dies, it emphasizes the role that mothers are expected to take in Afghan society. Even if Rahima were to have been with him, there is little she could have done to cure his serious medical condition. Despite this, she carries all the blame for his death—even though it is Gulalai who prevented her son from taking Jahangir to a proper hospital. Grief nearly destroys Rahima, demonstrating the deep connection mothers feel toward their children.

Shekiba demonstrates the value of children to their mothers. For Shekiba, having a son means stability. When Shah is born, her life ceases to carry the risk of her being endlessly given away. Though the want of a son initially springs from selfish needs, Shah awakens deep motherly instincts in Shekiba. The need to protect her child verges on paranoia. Shekiba boils her son’s clothes to prevent disease and puts up amulets protecting against the evil eye. Though this paranoia causes a rift between Shekiba and Gulnaz, it allows Shah to grow up healthy and strong.

Unlike Shekiba and Rahima, Raisa is a failure of a mother, though it is not entirely her fault. Raisa represents human frailty: Not everyone is able to leave an abusive situation unscathed. After her eldest daughters are married off, Raisa is wracked by grief. Instead of remaining resilient, she, like her husband, turns to opium. Raisa gradually wastes away, neglecting her motherly duties. Rohila and Sitara are left to fend for themselves.

Mother-in-laws, the matriarchs of their sons’ houses, contrast the loving, motherly nature of Rahima, Shekiba, and Jameela. Raisa’s mother-in-law never fully accepts Raisa and makes her life difficult due to Raisa having five daughters. Bobo Shahgul essentially disowns Ismail’s family due to her dislike for Shafiqa. Bobo Shahgul’s rancor toward her daughter-in-law transfers to her cruelty toward Shekiba.

A lifetime of frustration and oppression sours Gulalai, whose mother-in-law treated her with derision and cruelty. This, ironically, is the only thing that she and Rahima have in common. Gulalai appears to have learned how to be a mother-in-law from Abdul Khaliq’s mom. She treats Rahima with equal spite and derision. Despite claiming that Rahima is a bad mother, Gulalai is directly responsible for Jahangir’s death. The pride she takes in her folk remedies causes her to convince her son not to take Jahangir to the hospital, where he would have received the medical attention he desperately needed. 

Naseeb: Destiny, Free Will, and the Ability to Change One’s Fate

Due to their religious inclinations, many of the characters in the novel tend to express a fatalistic view of the universe. Naseeb is the Islamic equivalent of fate or destiny, and it means “one’s share in life. In the novel, naseeb skirts the line between predestination and the saying “God helps those who help themselves,” meaning Hashimi’s characters either resign to their perceived fate or attempt to rise up against their lot in life. Characters frequently invoke the idea of naseeb when their situation becomes intolerable, when they face loss, or when they decide to improve their life.

When Rahima and her sisters are married off, Raisa sobs, “It’s all in Allah’s hands, my girls. God has a plan for you. Whatever is in your naseeb will happen” (130). Raisa’s version of naseeb is one of resignation. Whatever happens to a person is meant to happen. This is a vision of life that requires little participation: Raisa is not a person of action, but rather a passive recipient. Her descent into opium addiction is indicative of this attitude.

Rahima first wonders “if Allah hadn’t meant for us to choose our naseeb” when she is to marry Abdul Khaliq (130). However, it is not divine power that overrides her free will; it is the patriarchal power structure of her society. Rahima still has the power to change her fate, but it is greatly hindered by the real and present danger held by the violent men in her life. To resist them would be to incur their wrath. This is illustrated by the anecdote of the girl at the women’s shelter who ran away from home: She was caught, and her husband sliced off her ear in retaliation.  

Shekiba has a slightly different notion of her naseeb that is somewhere between the standard version and Khala Shaima’s. Always superstitious, she believes in naseeb, but she also believes that it can be changed. Throughout her time in Bobo Shahgul’s and Azizullah’s households, and even during her time as a harem guard, Shekiba has the feeling that none of these situations are her naseeb. She actively plots to improve her lot in life. When she gives birth to Shah and her situation is more stable, she gives into the notion of fate. This was her naseeb. She knows the promising changes enacted by King Amanullah will not affect her, and she does not care: She has fulfilled her destiny.

Khala Shaima vocally resents the notion of naseeb, which she says “is what people blame for everything they can’t fix” (133). This begins to cement the notion in Rahima’s mind that one can change their naseeb. When she asks Khala Shaima if this is possible, Khala Shaima merely says that because nobody personally speaks with Allah, it is impossible to tell what their actual naseeb is. In a fatalistic sense, it is one’s destiny to change one’s destiny. Thereafter, Rahima navigates life on the principle that she will do whatever she can “to make it the best naseeb possible” (235). This eventually allows her to conspire with Hamida, Sufia, and Ms. Franklin to escape her perceived destiny of being Abdul Khaliq’s wife.

Shekiba: The Gift

Shekiba’s name means “gift,” a “gift from Allah,” as her mother puts it (18). While this seems an auspicious name to have, its meaning turns bitter for Shekiba. When Shekiba is introduced to the narrative, Hashimi foreshadows this ironic twist on Shekiba’s name: She writes, “Who could have known that Shekiba would become the name she was given, a gift passed from one hand to another?” (18). Shekiba repeats her mother’s words as a sort of refrain throughout her life, and each time, it becomes more bitter and ironic. It comes to define for Shekiba just what it means to be a woman in Afghan society.

When Bobo Shahgul decides to give Shekiba to Azizullah as a servant to pay off the Bardari family’s debt, Shekiba reflects, “That is the problem with gifts, Madar-jan. They are always given away” (62). This transitionary definition of being a gift serves to dehumanize women. They are the currency between the social economy of the men that control them. Because a “gift could be given away as easily as it had been accepted” (69), Shekiba realizes women have no secure place in such a system.

Each time Shekiba is given away, it causes her to feel “insignificant and disposable” (110). Based on her experience growing up as an unwanted woman and subsequently taking on the role of a male harem guard, Shekiba realizes that only men can enjoy true stability in her society. Only men can decide the fate of women; only men can own and inherit land. In order to find some stability and prevent herself from being given away again, she realizes “she needed to belong to a man” and that a “mother of sons would not be passed from hand to hand like livestock” (198). Implicit in this realization is the idea that women are granted an identity through the men in their lives: Their sons and husbands define them. Only a mother of sons truly has a place.

Despite the negative connotation Shekiba develops, the meaning behind her name is redeemed by the “gift” of her story. Rahima inherits next to nothing from her family, except for Shekiba’s story, preserved thanks to Khala Shaima. Shekiba’s life is an inspiration for Khala Shaima’s nieces, especially Rahima: Inspiration derived from her great-great-grandmother helps her survive the cruelty and adversity she suffers. Shekiba is gifted again, but this time it is as a person of value, a legacy to be inherited and a role model to be lived up to rather than gift to be given away. 

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text