Princess: Stepping Out of the Shadows, стр. 50

Chapter Eight

A Sprinkling of Stars

A MONTH HAD passed since the disheartening personal calamity of Sabrina’s friend, Nona. Despite all efforts, we had been unable to save the darling girl from her fate. From Sabrina, we had learned that during that month, Nona had suffered an abortion, and was quickly married to the man chosen for her by her criminally abusive father. The husband was proving to us that he was as heartless as her father, for he had refused Nona’s pleas to contact her mother or her best friend.

The entire incident was a devastating blow to all who loved Nona, for due to the strict guardianship law that reigns over all females in our country we were helpless to save her.

Now, Dalal, one of our nieces and the daughter of our deceased eldest sister Nura, was having a crisis of her own. Sara had arrived at my home to provide the details.

While we waited for refreshments, I encouraged Sara, ‘Go ahead. Tell me what has happened with Dalal.’

‘Poor Dalal. You know that she is a very feisty girl and she will not accept behaviour that most Saudi women would ignore. Well, she is very unhappy in her marriage and wants a divorce.’

Even those women who are royal do not have the easiest time convincing the family authorities to allow a divorce, for our clerics, and our courts, generally side with the husband. I felt that Dalal had a challenge facing her, yet I knew she was bold and resourceful, and perhaps would succeed where others had failed.

Sara appeared nervous, but told me, ‘Sultana, Dalal tells me that her husband has remained permanently adolescent mentally and morally.’ Sara hesitated, pondering the message she was about to deliver. She then said, ‘I remind you, Sultana, that I am only repeating what I was told …’ A soft blush started on my sister’s neck and moved up to her face. Then she whispered, ‘Dalal says that he is neither a good provider nor a successful lover.’

Sara struggles with conversations involving sexual matters, so I was surprised that she did not expunge at least a portion of all that had been told to her by our niece.

Sara is the auntie with whom most of our nieces best connect, for no one is more patient, loving and understanding than my sister, and since Nura’s death Sara has taken a special interest in Nura’s children.

‘So many of our men are not made for family life. You and I are some of the few so fortunate,’ I said with a frustrated groan.

Sara nodded her head but said nothing; my sweet sister is reluctant to condemn our society for practically worshipping male children.

In my view, mothers must carry the blame for much of this idolization. Too often, when a Saudi male child is born, he is so treasured by his extended family that he quickly reaches the conclusion that he is superior to all other beings, both male and female. The mother – the one person intimately involved with a Saudi male from his moment of birth – should impede this improper mindset, but instead females are too often complicit with their husbands and other family members in instilling a feeling of self-importance.

There are, of course, valid reasons why Saudi mothers cannot control their elation after giving birth to a male child. When a female is born, many families mourn, failing to congratulate the mother, indeed often showing anger. This attitude springs from the fact that Saudi Arabia is what could be termed a ‘shame society’. All things shameful affect the entire family and nothing diminishes their status more than the behaviour of their women. The most damaging is if a girl has a relationship of any kind with a boy prior to marriage – should she do nothing more than chat over the phone with a boy not of her family, she will gain a bad reputation. Other families will not allow their sons or daughters to marry if the family’s women are considered impure. Guarding female behaviour is a tiring task, and if the girl’s parents fail in their quest, then they will suffer. Due to the shame felt by improper behaviour, our entire society remains enamoured of celebrating the birth of sons only. Thus, when a male child is born, the mother is treated as a queen to have delivered such a human gem.

Such insulation from reality means that our young men too often become arrogant tyrants, cossetted by their families and caring little for anything other than seeking pleasure in their lives. How their egotistical conduct adversely affects others is not a concern to them and such arrogance results in ill-fated marriages. Although Saudi women are accustomed to accepting a secondary status in marriage, wives today are a little less passive than in the past and are often frustrated and unhappy with their husbands’ arrogant, dominant behaviour – like women the world over, the Saudi wife wants a good, compassionate husband who will not only provide for the family but will lovingly care for her too. The discontent felt by many wives can lead to unending disputes that often precede divorce.

As I was pondering the state of marriage today, an unexpected voice confidently announced, ‘That man should leave women alone and become a scholar!’

Sara and I exchanged puzzled glances before looking to see Little Sultana standing under the silk-covered archway which