We had read The Hidden Face of Eve for one of our book club meetings.

I rattled on nervously that her book had been an eye opener for me. I did not know enough about her then, to note the nuances of someone used to being criticised and marginalised in her own country. Her voice exuded the righteous pleasure of a writer surprised at how far her fame had spread. “You read my books in Bangladesh?” The present tense made a statement out of the question. Her face brightened, and I noticed how the sparkle in her eyes changed her whole countenance. “I’m from Bangladesh,” I reciprocated her smile, pleased to meet another woman of colour. “Oh!” she repeated, “Where are you from?” “Oh?” she said, perhaps a bit surprised at my brown appearance and Asian features among the otherwise white audience. She turned around immediately and her eyes widened. “I loved The Hidden Face of Eve,” I piped up from behind her at an opportune moment, knowing if I missed this chance, I might never get to talk to her again. I joined them, wishing I had brought along a copy of her book to get signed. When she finished her talk and the round of hand clapping had petered out, a few members of the audience went up on stage to talk to her. This was also my introduction to a socialist feminist. She was open in her criticism of both US policies as well as that of her own native Egypt. I don’t exactly remember what she talked about but it was definitely anti-establishmentarian. A student myself at the University of Nebraska Lincoln (UNL), I had only the day before found out while scanning the Lincoln Journal that she would be visiting NWU. It was a Friday morning and I was at Nebraska Wesleyan University (NWU) in Lincoln, Nebraska. There was a scattering of handclaps, mine the most enthusiastic, and I turned around to see that the auditorium was only about half full. “Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming our guest today, Nawal El Saadawi!”Ī somewhat stocky woman got up from one of the chairs facing the audience and tossing her mane of white hair, strode to the podium.

The woman at point zero