from A Year of Morning Thanks
Osama bin Laden has a niece who is, to be sure, no radical Islamicist. She lives in Australia, I guess, and wants to be a singer and a model. Yes, that’s her.
Her name is Wafah Dafour, and she has appeared, rather sensationally, in GQ, I'm told (I've never been a devoted reader).
Wafah changed her name legally after 9/11, and she may well repudiate her uncle, but a sexy magazine spread means she has already taken her infamous uncle's name directly to the bank. Who cares how she sings?—good night, she and her bathtub have already made GQ.
Someday, I'm sure, scientists will clone babies, if they haven’t already. But, for better or for worse, we’ll never quite replicate ourselves. Nobody will. Every family I know has its Wafahs, its wanderers, all of us. I am not my father, and he was not his.
You know, it somehow makes me feel less terrorized by Osama to know that, evil as he is, he really can’t even control the bin Ladens. But then none of us can, and that’s says something incredible about the nature of human will--again, for good or ill.
This morning, I’m thankful there’s a Wafah.