Read Princess Sultana's Circle Online

Authors: Jean Sasson

Tags: #sex slaves, #women in the middle east, #women in saudi arabia, #womens rights in the middle east, #treatment of women in middle east, #arranged marriage in middle east, #saudi arabian royal family

Princess Sultana's Circle (8 page)

BOOK: Princess Sultana's Circle
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I began to chew my
fingernails, remembering the one major problem that still remained.
“But how will we prevent Amani from telling Kareem?”

Sara pulled my hand from my
mouth and held it between her two hands. “I will speak with her,
don’t worry.”

I was a prisoner reprieved!
I knew that if Maha’s threat did not frighten Amani into silence,
then Sara would surely manage to convince my child not to speak to
Kareem. I smiled happily, knowing that under Sara’s watchful eye,
all would be well. Slowly, my worries began to lift.

Finally able to relax, I
asked, “I’m feeling hungry, now. Can you stay for a
meal?”

Sara nodded slightly. “I’ll
call home to say that I will be staying a while longer.”

I rang the kitchen on the
palace intercom and asked the head cook what had been prepared for
the mid-day meal. Pleased with what I heard, I expressed my
approval. I then instructed her that my sister and I would eat our
meal in the garden since cloudy skies had led to weather that was
cooler than usual.

After I washed my face and
hands and slipped on a fresh dress, Sara and I made our way through
the palace to the outside gardens. We walked arm-in-arm under a row
of leafy trees that provided a cool shade along the passageway. We
paused to admire the flowering bushes now heavy with red and gold
blossoms.

With our unlimited Al Sa’ud
wealth, we can do many wonderful things, even turn a parched desert
into a green garden!

The food had not yet
arrived, but we settled into the comfortable chairs surrounding the
glass top table. A red awning shaded the area around the
table.

Soon three Filipino
servants appeared balancing silver trays heavy with dishes. While
waiting to be served, Sara and I sipped hot, sugary tea and
discussed the school plans of our children. Once the servants set
the table and filled our plates, we talked and laughed while we ate
our way through a feast of salads, meatballs cooked in sour cream,
and roast chicken stuffed with boiled eggs and rice.

I remembered Sara’s words
about the approach of Ramadan. With that thought in mind, I took
second servings of many dishes, knowing that during Ramadan I must
endeavor to abstain from food between the daylight hours of dawn
and sunset.

As I savored the food
before me, my thoughts drifted to what lay ahead for me during this
time of sacrifice. Muslims throughout the world would soon begin to
search the skies for the new moon. Once that sighting occurred, the
time for fasting would have arrived.

My burning desire was that,
for the first time in my life, I would be able to fulfill my Muslim
oath.

 

Chapter Four

Chaining the
Devil

Ramadan is one of the five
pillars of Islam and it is obligatory that every adult Muslim
observe its customs. The Koran says: “O ye who believe! Fasting is
prescribed to you as it was prescribed to those before you that you
may (learn) self restraint and remain conscious of God…”
(2:183)

Although I breathe somewhat
easier knowing that during this special month, the doors of heaven
are open and the doors of hell are closed, with the devil chained
and unable to create mischief, a strict dedication to Ramadan has
never suited my particular character.

I’ve always been possessed
with a great longing to be as pious as my mother and sisters, but I
must admit that I have not been flawless in my devotions. Even as a
child, when I first learned of the rituals of Ramadan, I knew that
my failure to conform was inevitable. For instance, I was told to
impose silence on my tongue and avoid lying, obscene language,
laughing, and backbiting. My ears were to be closed to anything
offensive. My hands should not reach out for evil; as my feet
should be curbed from pursuing wickedness. If I inadvertently
allowed heavy dust or thick smoke to enter my throat, my fast would
be considered invalid! Not only was I not to eat or drink during
the hours between dawn and sundown, but even when rinsing my mouth,
I was warned to guard that I not accidentally swallow a single drop
of water! Most important of all, I was to fast from my heart,
meaning that all worldly concerns should be discarded, and only
thoughts of Allah should enter my mind. Lastly, I must atone for
any thought or action that might distract me from remembering
Allah.

From the time I began
fasting at adolescence, I was often forced to atone for my failure
to achieve full compliance. The Koran says that, “Allah will not
take you to task for that which is unintentional in your oaths, but
He will take you to task for the oaths which you swear in earnest.
The expiation therefore is the feeding of ten of the needy with the
average of that you feed your own, or the clothing of them, or the
liberation of a slave…” (5:89)

Since the time of our
marriage, Kareem and I had lost count of the number of needy
persons that my failure to keep my Ramadan vows had fed and
clothed.

As I savored my second
serving of honeyed dessert, I silently vowed that, this year, I
would astonish my family with my faithful adherence to
Ramadan.

After Sara left to return
to her own palace, I busied myself devoutly studying the Koran, in
a effort for the spiritual month ahead.

Ten nights later, an
enthusiastic announcement resonated from the neighborhood mosque,
informing believers that the holy month of Ramadan was upon us. The
new moon had been first sighted by a group of trustworthy Muslims
in a small Egyptian village. I knew that the same happy message was
being heard at every corner of the world where Muslims reside. The
time had come for all Muslims to strive to move toward a state of
perfection.

We were six days into
Ramadan when Kareem returned to Riyadh to join his family in
keeping the important rituals.

When Amani assured her
Auntie Sara that she would not reveal my drinking to Kareem, I made
a vow that never again would I supply my God-fearing daughter with
such a noose to dangle before my eyes.

I felt a glimmer of hope
that all would now be well.

During the month of
Ramadan, every routine of our normal life is altered. We rise at
least an hour before dawn. Ablutions are made, verses of the Koran
are recited, and prayers are performed. Then, a pre-dawn meal,
called Sahoor, usually consisting of cheese, eggs, yogurt or milk,
fresh fruit and bread, is placed before us. We have to take care to
finish this meal before the white thread of dawn appears, distinct
from the black of night. After eating, but before the actual rising
of the sun, more dawn prayers are performed.

For the remainder of the
day, we are bound to abstain from food, drink, smoking, and sexual
intercourse. During the day, we pray at noon and again in the late
afternoon.

As soon as the sun retreats
from the sky, our fast is broken by drinking a small amount of
water, juice, or milk. At this time, a prayer is offered: “Oh God!
I have fasted for Your pleasure. Oh God! Accept my fast and reward
me.” Only then can we take nourishment. The usual food that breaks
our fast is dates. After this light snack, the time quickly arrives
for the sunset prayer and the dinner meal.

Each day before the sun
sets during the month of Ramadan, the members of our extended
families usually meet at the palace of Sara and Asad to socialize
and to share the evening’s banquet. A mood of celebration is always
in the air, for our dispositions are generally improved due to the
success of our self-control.

This celebratory atmosphere
increases as the month of Ramadan draws to a close. Muslims begin
to prepare for Eid ul-Fitr, the three day feast which marks the
close of Ramadan. While many devout Muslims prefer the austere
period of striving for perfection, I find the celebration of Eid
the most pleasurable time.

Since I have no particular
schedule during the month of Ramadan, I usually turn my night into
day and stay awake throughout the night. I watch videotapes of
American films, read the Koran, or play Solitaire. Once Kareem
leaves our home for his office, I sleep late into the day, resting
through the hours that bring me the greatest hunger and thirst so
that I will not be tempted to break my fast. I do always take great
care to rise from bed for my noon prayer, and then again for the
mid-afternoon prayer, often offering extra supplications at this
time.

During this particular
Ramadan, Sara often shared these difficult hours with me as she had
promised. When Sara could not leave her own family, Maha stayed
resolutely by my side. Although I was often listless and hungry
during the afternoon hours, I knew that soon it would be the hour
of sundown, when Kareem would return home to take us to Sara’s
palace.

By the nineteenth day of
the Ramadan fast, I had not broken a single vow! I felt
increasingly proud that I had not once been tempted to sneak a bit
of food, drink a sip of water, or smoke even one cigarette! Most
importantly, I had successfully conquered my temptation to drink
alcohol.

Kareem and Maha offered me
many encouraging smiles and compliments. Sara congratulated me at
every opportunity. Even Amani showed more warmth toward me. Never
had I gone so long into Ramadan without slipping down that slippery
slope of uncontrolled desires.

I honestly believe that,
for once, I would have accomplished the total perfection I was so
eagerly seeking, were it not for my hated brother, Ali. Although he
knew his sisters’ feelings about Munira’s marriage, Ali still
insisted that Hadi and his new bride join our extended family at
the nineteenth sundown breaking of our fast. The couple had
returned from their honeymoon in Morocco to Riyadh on the previous
evening.

But Hadi was not a man
welcome in our inner circle, and we had assumed that he and his
four wives and children would be joining his own family when
breaking the daily fasts. So when Sara informed me that Hadi and
Munira would be among her guests, I guessed that we would be forced
to witness poor Munira’s first public subjugation. Furious at the
thought, I spat, “How can we be joyous with such a one as Hadi at
our table!”


This will be a difficult
evening,” Sara agreed as she rubbed my back. “But, we must get
through it with good grace.”

The clenching of my jaw
muscles hardened my voice. “Hadi married Munira for one thing only!
He’s always wanted the opportunity to insinuate himself into the
family life of the royals!”

Helplessly, Sara raised her
hands into the air. “There is nothing that we can do, Sultana. He
is married to our brother’s child. Anything we do to anger Hadi
will come down on Munira’s head.”


It’s the same as
blackmail,” I muttered angrily.

Maha whispered into
Nashwa’s ear, and both girls laughed loudly. Sara and I stared at
our daughters. My voice grew loud with increasing irritation. “Why
do you laugh?”

Maha’s face reddened, and
even before she spoke, I could tell that she was weaving a small
lie. “We were talking about a girl at school, Mother. Nothing
more.”


Daughter! Do not break
your fast with a lie! Have you forgotten that it is
Ramadan?”


Nashwa?” Sara’s voice was
gentle.

Nashwa was a girl
resembling Maha in many ways, but she had greater difficulty lying
to her mother than did my child.


It was only a small joke,
Mother.”


And? Share the joke,
please.”

Nashwa exchanged an uneasy
look with Maha, then said, “Well, Maha wants us to cast a spell on
Hadi so that his male organ will enter a permanent
sleep.”


Child!” Sara was aghast.
“Put such thoughts out of your mind! Only Allah has such
power!”

I was angry that Maha could
lie so easily, while Nashwa could not. I looked suspiciously at my
daughter. Was Maha still drawn to the trickery of black
magic?

Maha began to squirm under
my scrutiny. Four or five years earlier, Maha had been caught
planning to cast an evil spell on her own brother. But I thought
that Kareem and I had frightened her into giving up all thoughts of
black magic. Perhaps not, I now mused. I knew that a number of my
royal relatives had a great belief in the black arts.

I did not share my thoughts
with Sara, but secretly I agreed that Munira’s life would take a
turn for the better if her husband became impotent. After all, she
could successfully appeal for divorce should such a thing
occur.

In Saudi Arabia, a man can
divorce his wife at any time without stating a cause, while Saudi
women are not so fortunate. However, if a husband is impotent, or
does not provide for his family, a divorce, however difficult, is
possible for a woman to obtain.

Later, when Hadi and Munira
arrived, the first thing I saw was the misery on Munira’s face. I
was so shocked at her wretched physical condition, I wanted to
strike Hadi with all my force. In only one short month, Munira had
lost many kilos in weight, and now her skeletal frame was visible
through her flesh.

Sara and I exchanged a
horrified look. Sara rose to her feet.


Munira, you look unwell,
child. Come and sit.”

BOOK: Princess Sultana's Circle
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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