Although Firdaus (an Egyptian woman in the 1970s) is smart and once excelled as a student, she spends most of her adult life as a prostitute, first by coercion and later by choice. Because of her role as a prostitute, the men who pay for her services hypocritically scorn her for trading sex for money. However, even when Firdaus leaves prostitution behind, she discovers that society expects women to trade their bodies for various gains in every environment and scenario. Through Firdaus’s experiences in and out of prostitution, the book argues that although society looks down on prostitutes, all relationships between men and women in a patriarchal society are essentially transactional, hardly different from prostitution.
Although prostitution seems common in Egypt, people often demean Firdaus for the life she lives, indicating that society views transactional sex—having sex for money—as “not respectable,” even when much of that society takes part in it. After Firdaus runs away from her husband, Sheikh Mahmoud, a seemingly kind man named Bayoumi lets her live in his house with him for several months. However, when Firdaus decides she wants to find a job and be independent, Bayoumi beats her and locks her in his house. He starts raping her each night when he comes home, and lets other men enter and have sex with her as well, beginning Firdaus’s life as a prostitute. Bayoumi and the others often call her “slut, bitch,” reinforcing their disregard for her and her humanity. When Firdaus escapes Bayoumi, she wanders the streets until a policeman picks her up. The policeman berates her, saying, “You’re a prostitute, and it’s my duty to arrest you […] to clean up the country, and protect respectable families from the likes of you.” Even so, the policeman offers her money to have sex with him, suggesting that society at large condemns women who have sex for money—including those who have been coerced into prostitution—even while paying for their services. Firdaus eventually works independently, still operating as a prostitute but charging such high fees that she becomes wealthy with a large apartment, good food, and servants. Even so, Firdaus’s friend Di’aa—who also pays to have sex with her—tells her that she is “not respectable,” suggesting that regardless of one’s financial success, society still looks down on any form of transactional sexual relationship.
Firdaus leaves prostitution for several years to lead a normal life, become a “respectable” woman, and even fall in love, but she soon discovers that all relationships between men and women are essentially transactional. With her secondary school certificate, Firdaus finds work for an industrial company, though it pays so little that she must live in a much worse apartment than she did as an independent prostitute. Even so, she initially considers the sacrifice worthwhile, saying, “I was prepared to do anything to put a stop to the insults that my ears had grown used to hearing, to keep the brazen eyes from running all over my body.” Although poor again, Firdaus believes she is freed from being demeaned by society and exploited by men. However, before long she realizes that most women in her company have sex with their superiors to earn better treatment or avoid losing their jobs. She posits that just as she used to trade sex for money, her coworkers trade sex for favors. Since they can effectively buy their female employees’ bodies, the male superiors still look down upon the women. Firdaus observes, “I realized that as a prostitute I had been looked upon with more respect, been valued more highly than all of the female employees, myself included.” Her words indicate that, although society disrespected her as a prostitute, this is no different than male society’s disrespect for women in general. Firdaus falls in love with a man at her company named Ibrahim, a principled revolutionary leader. For a brief time, they are happy together. She has sex with him willingly—the only time in her life that Firdaus reports having sex for pleasure. However, when Ibrahim abruptly leaves her and marries a wealthy woman, Firdaus is crushed. She feels that Ibrahim simply used her, and decides that “men with principles were not really different from the rest,” because they use their principles and kind words to get “what other men buy for money.” Firdaus’s realization suggests that even in romantic relationships, men only trade their tenderness for sex, making the relationship just as transactional as prostitution, albeit less honest.
Firdaus ultimately returns to prostitution, since both parties are at least honest about their sexual transaction. It also pays better, giving her more agency. She concludes that since men control the world, they “force women to sell their bodies at a price, and that the lowest paid body is that of a wife,” since a wife is not paid, and her husband owns her (by Egyptian custom). She goes on, “All women are prostitutes of one kind or another. Because I was intelligent I preferred to be a free prostitute, rather than an enslaved wife.” Firdaus’s words suggest that, in a world run by men, any relationship between a man and a woman—whether an affair, marriage, or employment contract—is transactional, little different from outright prostitution. Firdaus’s view of relationships between men and women is certainly cynical, but reflects the reality of living as a woman in male-dominated Egypt in the mid-20th century.
Prostitution and Transactional Relationships ThemeTracker
Prostitution and Transactional Relationships Quotes in Woman at Point Zero
It looked to me as though this woman who had killed a human being, and was shortly to be killed herself, was a much better person than I. Compared to her, I was nothing but a small insect crawling upon the land amidst millions of other insects.
I knew that women did not become heads of state, but I felt that I was not like other women, nor like the girls around me who kept talking about love, or about men. For these were subjects I never mentioned. Somehow I was not interested in the things that occupied their minds, and what seemed of importance to them struck me as being trivial.
“Firdaus has grown, your holiness, and must be married. It is risky for her to continue without a husband. She is a good girl, but the world is full of bastards.”
All I know is that anything I would have to face in the world had become less frightening than the vision of those two eyes, which sent a cold shiver running through my spine whenever I remembered them.
I never used to leave the house. In fact, I never even left the bedroom. Day and night I lay on the bed, crucified, and every hour a man would come in.
I realized this was the first time in my life I was eating without being watched by two eyes gazing into my plate to see how much food I took. Ever since I was born those two eyes had always been there, wide open, staring, unflinching, following every morsel of food on my plate.
How many were the years of my life that went by before my body, and my self really became mine, to do with them as I wished? How many were the years I lost before I tore my body and my self away from the people who held me in their grasp from the very first day?
I was prepared to do anything to put a stop to the insults that my ears had grown used to hearing, to keep the brazen eyes from running all over my body.
After I had spent three years in the company, I realized that as a prostitute I had been looked upon with more respect, and been valued more highly than all the female employees, myself included.
As a prostitute I was not myself, my feelings did not arise from within me. Nothing could really hurt me and make me suffer then the way I was suffering now. Never had I felt so humiliated as I felt this time. Perhaps as a prostitute I had known so deep a humiliation that nothing really counted.
A successful prostitute is better than a misled saint. All women are victims of deception. Men impose deception on women and punish them for being deceived, force them down to the lowest level and punish them for falling so low, bind them in marriage and then chastise them with menial service for life, or insults, or blows.
I knew that my profession had been invented by men, and that men were in control of both our worlds, the one on earth, and the one in heaven. That men force women to sell their bodies at a price, and that the lowest paid body is that of a wife. All women are prostitutes of one kind or another. Because I was intelligent, I preferred to be a free prostitute, rather than an enslaved wife.
One day, when I donated some money to a charitable association, the newspapers published pictures of me and sang my praises as the model of a citizen with a sense of civic responsibility. And from then on, whenever I needed a dose of honor and fame, I had only to draw some money from the bank.
Why was it that I had never stabbed a man before? I realized that I had been afraid, and that the fear had been with me all the time, until the fleeting moment when I read fear in [Marzouk’s] eyes.
“I am not a prostitute. But right from my early days my father, my uncle, my husband, all of them, taught me to grow up as a prostitute.”