(Dial Books for Young Readers, 2015)
Eleven-year-old Wadjda lives with her parents in Saudi Arabia. Lately, however, she's seen very little of her father. Rumor has it that he is seeking a second wife. Because money is scarce and women are not permitted to drive, Wadjda's mother takes an hours-long cab ride each day to a remote village to teach school. Covered in black from head to toe, she shares the ride (without air-conditioning) with other teachers - crammed in a dilapidated cab in the sweltering desert heat. Wadjda, due to her young age and family's financial circumstances, has a special note that allows her to walk alone to school each day—but she longs to ride a bike like Abdullah. She and Abdullah were once friends, but now that she is older, she is not permitted to fraternize with boys.
Wadjda, however, does not easily take "no" for an answer. She rebels against the tedious rules of her girls-only school. Why shouldn't she be able to sell mix-tapes of Western musicians? She rebels against her mother and father. Why can't she play video games in her living room designated for men only. She rebels against the constraints of her culture. Why can't she talk to Abdullah if she wants to? And why can't a girl have a bicycle? Despite the obstacles and consequences, Wadjda is determined to have her way.
A lecture she'd heard in science class tickled her memory. Again and again, her teacher had told them that dark colors absorb heat, while lighter colors reflect it back. She ended the lesson my stating that this phenomenon was one of the miracles of the universe. It proved there was one almighty God, Allah, and that he had created everything for a purpose.Wadjda is an endearing protagonist because, despite a setting that is foreign to the American reader, Wadjda is familiar to us. She is just a girl like most girls—sometimes obedient, sometimes rebellious, sometimes remorseful, sometimes not. To women and girls of the West, life as a female in Saudi Arabia seems oppressive, cruel, unfathomable. To a girl like Wadjda, it is just life—a life in which she must eke out moments of hope, happiness, and laughter. Along with heartache, Haifaa Al Mansour has showed us those moments.
Beneath her hot black veil, Wadjda twisted her lips. She wondered if people knew this scientific secret when the tribal code assigned black to women and white to men. Maybe the real miracle of the universe was that she was able to walk home in Riyadh's sweltering afternoon sun without passing out!
The boys were gone now. Their bicycles moved like a flash around the corner. Wadjda squinted into the dusty afternoon and continued slowly on her way. As she walked, she pitched the stone Father had given her at various targets— a can, a stick, a funny-colored brick on the side of a building—thinking all the while about the different miracles of the universe. It had taken so much to get her to this exact spot, at this exact moment. So what was her purpose, now that she was here?
I've heard that the movie is phenomenal. Whether by book or by movie, I urge you to know Wadjda's story, The Green Bicycle. I think you will love this spirited young girl.
Below is the trailer for the movie Wadjda, on which The Green Bicycle is based.
My copy of The Green Bicycle was provided by the publisher at my request.