Recently, the family driver came down with a full-blown bout of chicken pox. At least that's what it seemed like with rashes all over his body. Staying as far away as I could from him, I told him to get to the nearest clinic and see a doctor. As fate would have it, less than 24 hours later, I contracted a case of acute colitis, most likely caused by indulging in a spicy Indian curry on a stomach floating around with some unresolved issues. Now for those who are not familiar with the effects of a colitis attack, it is akin to being flattened by a 25-kilo sledgehammer that is powered by someone with the bulk of a Schwarzenegger or Hulk Hogan in the area between the navel and the groin. It hurts if you walk, it hurts if you sit, and it keeps on hurting while you try to sleep. As a matter of fact, it just hurts all the time. So here we were. A household with two totally incapacitated male drivers, a wife who had errands to run and places to go, along with a kid whose social calendar during the week of a school break was on the rise. Kids do have their rights for fun, too. Living in a quiet neighborhood with the sight of a taxi a rare event, and public transportation for women and children atrocious at best, I resigned myself to some eventful days ahead. Thank God, we had stocked up on groceries and essentials a couple of days before. Now, I could have drawn on a multitude of resources for assistance. Family and friends who would gladly have provided the driving support for these trying times. But I detest inconveniencing others if I can help it. And I realize that most people have their own errands and do not usually carry persons on their payroll for such outside emergencies. They have their own lives, for heaven's sakes. Yes, we have Uber and Careem, but I am loathe to use them when I can do the task myself. And I am hesitant to use novel services for my family, even though from the reviews I have read, many have called this service a lifesaver. And then I start wondering. Why couldn't my wife, a licensed motorist who has been navigating the freeways of California since she was 16 use her skills since we have found ourselves in such dire straits? Why could she not get behind the wheel and go where she needs to? Why, why, why? "It's religion," some may say. Baloney, I reply. Whose religion? Because mine has placed no such limitations on women. "It's the special culture," others might add. Bull-feathers to that one too. Whose special culture? Some twisted individuals have cleverly manipulated segments of our society into believing such nonsense is in fact a truth. Is it not some kind of a control mechanism over the lives of women, ignoring the hardships imposed on them and on their spouses by such values? "It's our society. They will just not accept it," is another maddeningly lame excuse. Well, force them, I say! Just as motorists were forced to accept the seat-belt laws, so can motorists be forced to behave appropriately if they harass female drivers! You don't read about such problems in the rest of the Arab world. Why are we different than the rest of the GCC, if not the rest of the world? We share similar cultures and values. So what's the difference? The times demand such mobility, and not just in cases like mine. Families have to cope with increasing expenses and shrinking wallets today and not all families can afford to employ someone to do a job that they can do themselves. In the meantime, I shall medicate myself into silence. — The author can be reached at [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter @talmaeena
