The blue sea stretches out behind them. The second segment opens with a man on horseback, thundering across the countryside in pursuit of some two dozen women who are participating in a bicycle race. With their dark chadors whipping in the wind, these smiling, laughing women could be a group of French nuns on a weekend outing to the seashore. A touch of surrealism descends upon the film as the young boys whom she has hired to carry her new possessions spread them out along the beach and cavort there with a washing machine, which is miraculously spinning clothes without the benefit of electricity. The Day I Became a Woman is a spare film, with little dialogue but a lot to say.
Shots are long and lingering, with minimal activity within the frame and few camera movements.
Natural background sounds fill the long silences. Only a few images stick in the mind, but they are powerful enough to make a deep impression. In the second section, a slow-motion shot of a horse's legs conjures up visions of the headless horseman. Neither the rider nor the upper half of the horse is seen, heightening the sense of doom and futility that overtakes Ahoo as she, metaphorically at least, pedals for her life. A second image is of Havva's little friend.