Princess Sultana's Daughters

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Princess Sultana's Daughters Page 21

by Jean Sasson


  While Reema’s attachment to Saleem had increased during the years of their married life, Saleem coldly told his wife that he had never loved her, that as a matter of fact he had never known love at all, and had married Reema for no reason other than to gain prestige from her family name.

  Reema confronted Saleem’s unreasonable hostility with faithful love and genuine concern. Reema told Nura that she feared Saleem must have a brain tumor, or at least be suffering from a chemical imbalance. Why else would a man so radically change, when there had been no trauma in his life.

  Reema pleaded with her husband to seek medical attention. But instead of looking to professional help for his misery, Saleem dwelt on his unhappiness. Saleem, a man who rarely drank alcohol, began to drink with increasing frequency. When drinking, he would be- come violent toward Reema and the eldest of their daughters.

  Reema told Nura that she feared she would soon be divorced and separated from her two youngest sons, for Saleem had threatened to liberate himself from Reema, insisting that this was the only way to free himself from his unhappiness.

  Nura was helpless at giving advice, for no one in our family could approach Saleem’s family without creating tension. His family had recently requested that one of Nura’s daughters be wed to their youngest son. The engagement did not materialize because Ahmed and Nura had already arranged a different groom for their child. Saleem’s family had held themselves at a distance since that time, taking offense where none was intended.

  Nura said that while Saleem slowly pulled himself together so that he began to function at work, his contempt for Reema only grew more intense. Saleem began to take frequent trips to the Far East, and Reema knew from some of the brochures she found in her husband’s belongings that these trips were not of a business nature. Saleem was participating in sexual junkets to Bangkok and Manila.

  Just the month before, Reema went to Nura’s home with a bruised face and a horrifying story. Our sister had discovered her husband in bed with one of the Sri Lankan maids. When she protested, Saleem went at her with his fists and threatened Reema with the loss of her children if she dared open her mouth to anyone in his family. Saleem’s family was known to be devout and religious, and they would have expressed great shame at his conduct, though they would have been helpless to change his mood.

  While it is true that many Saudi men turn to secret pleasures with women to whom they are not wed, none of the females in our family had married a man so insensitive as to flaunt sexual relations with a servant in his own home.

  Reema, perplexed and not sure where to turn, went to an Egyptian female imam, asking that the woman put in writing the answer to the question: Does Islam permit a man to have sexual intercourse with his maidservant without marrying her? Surely, her husband would heed a religious ruling, if she brought it to him in writing. To go against the teachings of the Koran would be unthinkable in the mind of our pious sister!

  Nura said that Reema had confessed she was going to con- front Saleem with the ruling. Nura had cautioned our sister, concerned that Saleem no longer enjoyed total sanity.

  I asked if Nura recalled the words of the ruling.

  She replied that she had taken a copy for herself and filed it with her other religious material. Who knew what other woman might have need of the information at a later date?

  Nura said that to the best of her memory “the imam’s ruling clearly states that Islam does not allow a sexual relationship between a master and a servant. The iman said that the idea was outrageous, and only through marriage could a sexual relationship exist in Islam.”

  The imam acknowledged that what happens in actual life is not always sanctioned by Islam and that there were many cases in the kingdom that had been brought to her attention involving a master forcing his servant to yield to his wishes, exploiting her inferior position to get cheap fulfillment of carnal desire. The imam ruled that such a relationship was illicit and led to the three evils expressly forbidden by Islam. The evils of which she spoke are: “Any relationship which adversely affects the moral fabric of society, or leads to promiscuity, or affects the rights of any individual. In Islam, the only lawful way to have sexual intercourse is through marriage.”

  Reema’s courage in seeking an outside opinion caused me some surprise, for she was meek in nature.

  “Was the ruling the cause of Saleem’s attack?” I asked my sisters.

  Nura answered in the negative.

  “Then?”

  Sara began to weep and left the room, saying that she could not bear to hear the details again. Tahani rose to follow her, but Asad was standing near the door. I caught a glimpse of him wrapping his arms around his wife as he led her to a private corner.

  Tahani returned and sat by my side, and began nervously to pat the top of my hand.

  I thought to myself that I was being prepared for a distressing account.

  “The physician would not tell us the full details, but Father and Ali went to his office and were told the truth of the matter, for Saleem finally confessed to the physician what exactly had happened to Reema.

  “It seems that Saleem had just returned from a short trip to Bangkok and had smuggled in pornographic videotapes. After a night of drinking and viewing the tapes, Saleem wanted to have sex with his wife, although he had not displayed affectionate interest in Reema for some time.

  “When Saleem awakened Reema in the middle of the night for sex, he was told that she was having her monthly period.”

  With half-shut eyes, Nura leaned back on the sofa.

  Like all Muslims, I know that the Koran forbids sexual relations during a woman’s menstrual cycle. The Koran clearly states: “They ask, concerning women’s courses, respond: they are a hurt and a pollution, keep away from women in their courses, and do not approach them until they are clean, but when they have purified themselves, you may approach them in any manner, time, or place, ordained for you, by God.”

  Had Reema fought her husband, only to be raped and beaten during a time she was forbidden to him?

  I could tell that Nura was thinking of what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. I watched Nura’s face as it became white with anger. “Saleem, in a drunken state, became angry at his wife’s condition and refusal.” My sister took a deep, ragged breath. “Sultana, Reema was badly beaten, and then Saleem raped his wife in a region of her body not allowed to her husband. The physician at the private clinic informed Father that Saleem’s attack was so violent and brutal that emergency surgery was performed. For the remainder of her life, Reema will be forced to wear a colostomy bag.”

  My mouth opened in a soundless howl. Reema? Disabled and encumbered for life? I found myself seething with hostility. Now I understood why Sara had fled the room, for she herself had been subjected to that same type of sexual abuse when wed against her will to her first husband, a man who was sick in his head.

  I stood and stamped my foot so hard that a vase tottered and threatened to fall from a tall stand. “If Saleem were in this room, I would attack him with my hands,” I shouted. In an uncontrolled rage, I asked, “And Saleem? Has he been jailed?”

  Tahani made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Jailed? He is Reema’s husband. He is free to do as he likes.”

  Nura’s face was becoming even paler in her grief and bitterness over the fate of our innocent sister.

  I protested, “But his conduct was forbidden! Surely, we can make a case for a religious investigation!”

  Nura looked at me with great love mingled with sadness. “Sultana, you speak as a child. Who, in our land, will take the side of a woman against her husband? Our own father and brother have directed that this is a personal matter between Reema and Saleem and that no one of our family is to interfere.”

  Tahani confided, “Father prohibited us from telling you, but we decided that we must, for when you see Reema next, her condition will be obvious.”

  I insisted, “Reema must divorce him! That, at least!”


  Nura reminded me of the reality of Reema’s situation. “And lose her children? Both girls have reached puberty, and the boys are now eight and nine. Saleem has the right to take them from their mother. And that he would do. He has already threatened her with their loss. Sultana, Reema would die without her children.”

  When Nura saw that I was still fiercely angry, she asked, “Tell me, Sultana, could you live if your children were taken from you?”

  In my land, in the event of a divorce, the mother has the right to retain her children if they are still suckling. In most cases, a mother maintains custody of daughters until a girl child arrives at puberty. In the case of male children, the boy should be allowed to remain with his mother up until age seven. When he reaches his seventh birthday, he is supposed to have the option to choose between his mother or father. Generally it is accepted that the father would have his sons at age seven. A son must go with his father at the age of puberty, regardless of the child’s wishes.

  Often, in the case of male children, fathers will not allow the mother to retain custody, no matter the age of the child. I have personally known women who have lost custody of their children at young ages, never again seeing those to whom they gave birth. Unfortunately, if a father seizes the initiative and takes his children, there is no authority that will force him to return them to their mother.

  I knew that if Saleem refused Reema visitation with her children, my sister would be forever banned from their presence. There was no court of law that would reverse the husband’s final decision about the destiny of his children.

  I moaned, thinking of the possibilities we would know if we had male support. If only the men of her family, our father and Ali, would stand behind Reema, her position in negotiating for her children would strengthen. Since our father and brother thought that a man should be allowed to do as he wished with the females in his family, they would be of no assistance to Reema.

  It was a serious moment.

  “Perhaps Saleem will come to his right mind,” Nura hopefully suggested.

  “Never try to straighten a dog’s tail. In vain you do,” Tahani muttered to no one in particular.

  After further discussion, my sisters and I decided that we were needed in Riyadh. We would leave our husbands in Monte Carlo with our children, and travel back to Saudi Arabia the following day.

  Later that evening, Kareem tried to lift my downcast spirit by reminding me that my sister had not died from her injuries, and where there was life, change might come. He said that a better day would soon be known, that in his opinion, Saleem was suffering from nothing more than a male crisis that would pass.

  Kareem became concerned when I promised him that Saleem would suffer for his attack on the gentle Reema.

  Trying to ease my murderous rage, he joked, “Sultana, I do not wish to see you made ready for the executioner’s sword! You must spare Saleem’s life.”

  My husband continued to speak, but I listened to his words without hearing, thinking how lamentable it was that so much ignorance should prevail in a land that is home to a great religion.

  Home

  “A girl possesses nothing but a veil and a tomb.”

  —Saudi Arabian proverb

  Our brother, Ali, met us at the King Khalid International Airport that is located twenty-two miles from Riyadh’s city center. Ali seemed preoccupied and curtly informed us that we would be taken directly to the private clinic to visit our sister Reema, for she was suffering a particularly bad day and had been asking for Nura since the early morning.

  The traffic was heavy, and the drive took more than an hour. Each of us was lost in her thoughts of Reema. At the beginning of the journey, the conversation was strained and sparse, with nothing important spoken.

  Ali, tiring of the silence, confided that he, himself, was involved in a family crisis. With a touch of annoyance in his voice, my faithless brother said that Reema’s unfortunate injury could not have occurred at a worse time, and that he had been greatly inconvenienced by the necessity of becoming involved in Saleem’s private family affair. In all earnestness, Ali wondered aloud what Reema had done to bring forth Saleem’s hostility.

  Ali was blaming Reema for Saleem’s unprovoked attack!

  Sara and Tahani looked quickly at Ali, and I detected in their evasive glances faint reprimands at his unfeeling comment.

  I could not restrain my tongue and said, “Ali, with each day, your ignorance grows while your intelligence shrinks!”

  I felt a keen urge to slap my brother, but not wanting to appear less than admirable in front of Nura and Tahani, I consoled myself with silent criticism. Ali was only a year older than I, but he looked no less than ten years my senior, with lines in his face and pouches under his eyes. In his youth, Ali had been handsome and vain about his looks. In middle age he had grown a bit stout, and his chin had doubled. Ali’s affluent, overindulgent lifestyle was clearly evident in his face and form. I was cheered to see his physical appeal decaying.

  My eldest sister’s face clouded, and in a voice filled with tenderness and concern, she asked Ali what crisis there was in his life.

  Out of ten sisters, only Nura truly loves Ali. The emotions of the remaining nine sisters for their only brother range from pity, contempt, and envy to open dislike. We do understand that Nura is protected from acute disapproval of her only brother by the division of many years, for Nura is the oldest child of our mother, and Ali is one year from the youngest. Nura was married with children when Ali was born, and was mercifully spared his spoiled, overbearing conduct. In addition, Nura inherited the kindly character of our mother and belonged to that minority who instinctively make apologies for those around them, while accepting the most feeble explanations for inexcusable deeds. Thus, Nura’s reaction to Ali’s insensitive statement differed from those of his other three sisters.

  Ali frowned slightly. He looked out of the automobile window and then said distantly, “I have divorced Nada.”

  Nura gasped. “Again?”

  Ali looked at Nura and nodded.

  “Ali! How could you? You promised Nada that never again would you divorce her!”

  Nada was Ali’s most beautiful and favored wife. He had married her seven years before, and together they had had three lovely daughters.

  Under Muslim law, a man’s freedom to divorce his wife is justified in the Koran. This system of the threat of divorce constantly looming over her security is most unsettling to women in my land. It is intolerable that many men stretch this flexible ruling to the utmost, demanding divorce for the most trivial causes, causing the continuous social degradation of their women.

  Women do not have the same options, since a divorce in a woman’s favor is given only after a thorough investigation into her life. More often than not, women will not be allowed to divorce, even when there is just cause. This female lack of freedom so enjoyed by males creates one-sided, often cruel methods of male control and power over their women. The words of divorce slip most easily off the tongue of any man who wishes to punish his wife. Simply by saying, “I divorce thee,” or “I dismiss thee,” he sends the woman into exile from her married home, often without her children.

  Ali, a man rarely in control of his tongue or his temper, often used divorce as a weapon against his wives.

  I knew that my brother had divorced each of his wives at least once, and Nada had been divorced twice. More times than not, once Ali’s anger receded, he would repent the divorce and retain the wife he had divorced the day or night before. Ali had this benefit, for men are not only given the option of divorcing their wives with the greatest of ease but are allowed to take back the divorce and resume their marriage as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Under Muslim law, a man is given this option twice. If he divorces his wife for a third time, the procedure becomes more complicated.

  In a fit of anger, Ali had divorced Nada for the third time, and according to our law, he could not resume marriage with her until she had married another ma
n and had then been divorced by him. Through his childlike conduct, Ali had finally and truly divorced himself from the only one of his wives for whom he felt true affection.

  I tried not to smile as I quoted the Koran, doing my best to remember every word.

  “You may divorce your wives twice; after that you must either retain them with kindness, or put them away with benefits. If then the husband divorce her a third time, it is not lawful for him to take her again, until she shall have married another husband.”

  I stuck my face into the face of my brother and asked, “Ali, who is Nada now going to wed?”

  Ali glared at me with bulging eyes, and answered coldly, “La! La! [no, no] Nada has no desire to wed another!”

  “Ha! Nada is famous within the female community for her beauty. Once it is known that she is free, many mothers and sisters will send their sons and brothers to ask for her. Wait and see!”

  Sara intervened, not wanting our lifelong, unending feud to lead to a fierce argument in a confined area. “Ali. What led to this divorce?”

  Ali was clearly embarrassed. He said that the matter of the divorce was private, but he did ask Sara and Nura if they would visit with Nada, to convince her that the words were spoken in haste, and as such, Ali should be given another opportunity to prove that he had no real desire to divorce her. If Nada chose to ignore the situation and did not notify the authorities, then Ali might be able to avoid an order to allow Nada to leave his home, thereby becoming eligible for another man to pursue.

  Nura and Sara agreed to speak with Nada.

  The car began to slow down, and Ali peered through the dark blue curtains and then pointed at the black assortment of veils, abaayas, and shaylas that were spread over the seat. “Hurry. Prepare yourselves. We are there,” he commanded.

  It was a struggle for the four of us to cover ourselves in the black garb of decency within the small space of the automobile. Ali had met our private airplane on the tarmac, so we had not bothered with our required outer coverings until the last moment.

 

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