Princess: Stepping Out of the Shadows, стр. 12
Feeling the nearness of death upon me, I become emotional. ‘Oh Mother,’ I say in a voice that breaks, ‘if I might lie in the same grave with you, then I would not fear death.’
That’s the moment my daughters, Maha and Amani, enter the room where I am sitting. Thankfully both are in light-hearted moods and appear to be taking pleasure from the other’s company, which is not their typical behaviour. When they notice the tears gathering in my eyes, both rush to sit by my side and try to console me.
‘Mummy,’ Amani cries, ‘whatever is wrong?’
‘Mother,’ Maha says, as she lightly massages the back of my neck, ‘don’t be sad.’
I nod, whispering, ‘You are right. This will be a day that brings my mother’s love closer to my heart. How I wish she was here with us, rather than a beautiful photograph on the wall. Oh, daughters!’ I cry. ‘How I miss her!’
Both my girls hug and kiss me before staring reverently at their grandmother’s striking image. But then, quite suddenly, Amani gasps and points at the portico above my mother’s photograph, crying out, ‘What is that, Mummy?’
My eyes follow Amani’s gaze. ‘Those precious stones are in honour of your grandmother, my darlings.’
This is the first time my daughters have seen the newly installed, impressive archway studded with expensive rubies above her picture. This arch is topped by a larger arch, in the centre of which is an emerald stone that is worth nearly as much as our palace. I recently removed this stone out of an extravagant necklace that my husband gave me for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. My husband has been reminded many times that jewels hold little significance for me, but he has failed in his efforts to cease his lifetime custom of seeking out and buying the most precious for the women in his life.
Often without telling Kareem, I sell some pieces to use in support of good causes, such as the building of schools or to provide funds for a girl’s education. But never will I sell the emerald stone.
I recall the moment I first saw this magnificent jewel. I instantly thought of my mother. Emeralds were her favourite, due to their vivid green. The particular shade of this stone represents Islam to Muslims, so my heart told me that it was only fitting that I display it in a splendid manner near Mother’s photograph. It is a meaningful way of honouring her and her love of Islam.
The beautiful photograph, given to me by my father before his death, has now been moved to my personal sitting room from the small room near the main entranceway of our palace. This happened for a good reason. At the first ceremony that took place with my siblings and nieces to honour the portrait of my mother and its display in my home, my brother Ali’s daughter Medina disrupted our lives in a most horrifying manner. Prior to our hanging the photograph in the entranceway, Medina grabbed the large picture, shouting to all that her father was the only son and, as such, that he was entitled to have the only photograph known of our mother. She objected most furiously to the portrait residing with me! This, despite the fact that prior to his death, and during a family gathering when all his children were witnesses to his words, our father called me to his side to tell me that our mother had asked that her youngest daughter, Sultana, be the recipient of the photograph.
Medina succeeded in dashing out of our palace doors with the photograph and fled our property. Maha followed, giving chase and dangerously speeding a car through Riyadh’s busy streets. My heart nearly stopped as I watched her driving alone and breaking the laws of our country. Had she been stopped by the police, the publicity would have been humiliating for our family. For certain, Kareem would have been forced to call in favours from royal cousins to keep Maha out of jail. Abdullah, Kareem and other family members chased after her and together they managed to retrieve the photograph safely, without damage. However, there were many close calls that nearly lost us the only known photograph of our beloved mother, including a near drenching with red paint. Ali’s new wife was having her dancing room repainted and when Medina realized that she was cornered she grabbed those buckets of red paint to splash on my family. My husband, son and Maha returned to our palace covered in it, but the photograph remained untouched.
The close call, thanks to Medina’s thievery, was so traumatizing that even after Kareem hired the most experienced security specialists to protect Mother’s photograph I felt uneasy that the treasured image was only a few steps from the main entrance of our palace.
In fact, due to this specific concern, I had difficulty sleeping and would awaken several times during the night to hurry to Mother’s photograph to make certain that it was still in its proper place.
After discovering his distraught wife lying beneath her mother’s photograph three nights in a row, Kareem made the decision to move the picture to somewhere more private and secure. That is when he very carefully planned and hired engineers to construct a huge addition to our palace, a structure separately made as secure as the underground vault beneath the Bank of England in London, according to the experts hired by my husband. As added security, the structure is