Princess: Stepping Out of the Shadows, стр. 47
Tragically, while there are laws giving men guardianship rights, there are no laws written to protect women against abusive guardians.
Any intelligent person might ask, why do Saudi Arabian men cling to the tradition of maintaining such tight control over the women in their family? According to most Saudi men who are asked, they believe that there is a dire necessity for a male guardian since they believe women lack the capacity to make their own decisions.
Thus Sara, like many other Saudi girls, was married against her will to a man she had never met; this man, who was suddenly her legal guardian, was able to do what he wished with his young bride.
Maddeningly, the guardianship law remains in effect to this day, although it is applied differently in each family, according to the decision of the man who is the head of the household. If the man is sensible and sensitive, as is my husband, and feels no need or desire to control the women in his life, the guardianship laws are somewhat less frustrating for those being guarded!
* * *
Sara sat sipping her tea, but she was so distraught that her hands were trembling.
‘Sara, darling, can you tell me what has happened to Nona?’
My sister grimaced but nodded. ‘Yes, I can tell you, Sultana, although I am unhappy to pass this story to you.’
‘Why? I am your sister. We have no secrets.’
‘Of course, that is true, but this story is so very sad. You have been ill and now you will lose much-needed sleep over Nona’s heartrending situation.’ Sara raised her eyebrows. ‘Assad pleaded with me not to add this burden to your heart, but, Sultana, I could not bear it alone.’ She sighed. ‘If only our dear sister Nura was still with the living, she could ease this weight on our hearts.’ Sara gazed at me with a sad smile. ‘But Sultana, now we only have each other with whom to share our deepest secrets.’
I reached for my sister’s hands, holding tight to the woman I loved as much as I loved my own children.
‘Tell me. Perhaps I can do something to solve this problem.’
‘If only, Sultana. But yes, I will tell you without giving you every detail. But this story is so painful that I must sit back and close my eyes. I am too weak to sit upright and look into your eyes while I speak.’
Startled by Sara’s unusual request, I glanced around the room, scrutinizing the various chairs and sofas, recalling that Kareem had recently purchased two reclining chairs, although no one had ever reclined in them until now.
‘Of course. Sit here, in this reclining chair. And there is a second one.’ I smiled at my sweetest and most beloved sister. ‘I will recline with you.’
Sara moved to one of the two chairs in the sitting area. I sat in the other. We were close enough to hold hands, and we did. And there we reclined with closed eyes, my sister speaking while I listened, absorbing every word and imagining the scenes she was describing.
‘Poor Nona, Sultana. She was once a happy girl who enjoyed visiting with Sabrina and spending endless hours in my daughter’s apartment, absorbed in sketching fashion designs. Those girls were too feisty, planning to one day leave Saudi Arabia and study fashion design in Paris. Surprisingly, Nona already had researched the various schools and had decided upon the Institut Français de la Mode. It has a good ranking in the fashion programmes. I believe the Institut ranked third, but I am not sure. I would have financially supported Nona had she applied and been accepted. The girls were getting quite excited, really, believing they might work with some famous designers until they could set up their own fashion house.
‘I studied their designs, and while Sabrina appears to be involved in fashion plans only to please her friend, Nona is quite talented actually, and with appropriate financial backing and hard work most likely would have been a success. Over this past year, however, this talkative, cheerful girl slowly turned into a morose and unsociable introvert. While she still visited Sabrina at least once a week, I noticed how the two would retire to listen to sombre music, usually Chopin’s Funeral March, a most haunting piece of music. The girls listened to it over and over until I asked Sabrina to tell me what was behind their sudden interest in such dark music. I felt concerned for their mental well-being, to tell you the truth. It seemed so unnatural for two girls of their age.
‘Sabrina said she was simply trying to please Nona, that she in reality did not enjoy listening to that over and over. I pressed Sabrina further, but my daughter said she was uncertain why Nona had become so glum. She truly had no knowledge of what was behind her friend’s gloomy disposition, or what she had been enduring, at least not until last evening when Nona sought refuge in our home.’
‘Refuge? Why?’
‘Sultana, Nona’s father has been sexually molesting his daughter since she was twelve years old.’
My closed eyes flew open. ‘What?’ Sexual assault on a daughter by her father is not something one hears about often in Saudi Arabia. If such a thing happens, it is generally hidden by all family members.
‘Nona believes that her mother knew, or at least had reason to suspect that the hours her husband was spending with his daughter were not entirely innocent. The beastly man had built Nona her own separate apartment several years before and when his wife questioned the time he