Princess: Stepping Out of the Shadows, стр. 46

and, in fact, seemed contented with their company alone. She did not seek out friends and did not make friends easily. The little girl Nona, as far as I could remember, was Sabrina’s only friend.

Sabrina had met Nona at school four or five years ago. I could not remember many details about her other than she was a very cute girl with a bubbly personality. She was not of the royal family, although her father was a wealthy merchant with various successful businesses in Riyadh and Jeddah.

‘Come, Sara. Come and sit. I will call for sweet tea and when you feel calm you can tell me what is going on.’

‘I do not believe I will ever be calm again. This entire situation has brought back to my mind and heart every cruel thing that occurred in our childhood, as well as those heartless events inflicted upon us when we became adults, Sultana.’

My interest was now intensely piqued, for since meeting and marrying Assad, Sara had very firmly closed and locked the window to the grimmest memories of our childhood. The tragic episodes of the past no longer existed for Sara. While she spoke of our childhood, she limited her conversations to the most pleasant memories of our younger years. I know that my sister used this avoidance mechanism to prevent further mental anguish because she had a most agonizing experience when she was only sixteen years old.

Sara, like all of Mother’s daughters, was a very sheltered and conservative girl who knew nothing of adult life. Without a doubt, she was also the most physically stunning of Mother’s ten daughters. She was so beautiful, in fact, that rumours of her acclaimed beauty travelled throughout the entire kingdom.

In our youth, all females wore a veil unless strictly cloistered in a family setting or at any party or social gathering where males were banned. At weddings, for example, all attendees removed their veils other than the most zealous conservatives. The truth is that weddings were and are where Saudi mothers look watchfully for potential future brides for their sons. Sara began attending weddings with Mother and our older siblings when she reached puberty. And so it was that many women saw Sara when she was only fourteen and set their minds on accomplishing an important mission: providing a beloved son with a wife who was clearly the most exquisite-looking girl in the kingdom.

I remember hearing my older sisters excitedly whisper that families from Riyadh, Jeddah, Mecca, Medina and Taif had approached our parents, pleading that Sara be given in marriage to one of their sons. Several families even said that they would sell their properties to raise the appropriate dowry.

Dowries for brides have always been paid in Saudi Arabia, and beauty, sadly enough, was and is one of the most important attributes Saudi families seek in their brides. Sara’s beauty created such a raging tsunami of dowry offers that our fabulously wealthy but materialistic father took note, became immersed in gaining the most money possible from Sara’s desirability and demanded complete control of Sara’s marriage choices. Although most Saudi mothers generally have a say in the selection of their daughters’ grooms, this was not to be the case when it came to Sara. I recall that my father informed my mother that he, and he alone, would determine who Sara would marry.

Against Mother’s tearful objections, Father set up a marriage for Sara to the highest bidder. That happened to be an extremely wealthy merchant from Jeddah, a man who was already sixty-two years old. Sara was to be his third wife and she was told that she would be withdrawn from school, even though she was a brilliant student. The prospect of this marriage brought no benefit to Sara, but she had no choice in the matter and her opinion was never sought. Even though our Muslim teachings say that a girl should be asked if she accepts the one selected for her, and she has the right to say no, in those days not many girls were bold enough to contradict anything decided by their parents.

And so my sister, who was sixteen years old but emotionally and mentally still a child, found herself trapped in a marriage to a brutish man forty-six years her senior.

Sara was taken to Jeddah to live in a home as the third wife of a most undesirable husband. She was forbidden to contact her family, and after months of sexual abuse she tried to commit suicide. Only then was she allowed a divorce and was permitted to return to our home. Shattered by her appalling experience, Sara became reclusive and sad, a delicate and anxious young woman who withdrew from the world. It was not until she met Assad, Kareem’s brother, that Sara eventually emerged from the fragile shell she had built around herself. The two fell in love and have been devoted to each other since their first meeting.

* * *

Mother and Sara had both been powerless in the face of such firm control because all females in Saudi Arabia must have a male guardian, generally their father, but the ‘ownership of the woman’ can be passed to a brother or uncle, or when she marries to her husband. Prior to our marriages, our insensitive, avaricious father was the guardian of all his daughters and there was no possibility of changing this fact of life.

To understand how limiting life is with a guardian, it is important to know the facts of guardianship in Saudi Arabia. The guardian has the right to make most decisions on behalf of the females in his custody. Females require their guardian’s permission for all major aspects of life, such as whether they will be educated or seek a career. They are required to have written permission from the guardian to open a bank account or to travel. Even elective surgery is forbidden unless the woman can produce a letter from her guardian. Most particularly vexing, the guardian has the