by Jean Sasson
Just then Maha came running from the women’s garden. “Mother, Amani she says she’ll kill herself before she lets you take away the birds!”
I slapped my hands together.
“I think she means it, too,” Maha added melodramatically. “She claims she will garrote herself with her red leather belt!”
I screamed.
With a worried look, Kareem headed for the women’s garden. Maha and I followed him without a word. So did Tony, Frank, and Jerry, at a discreet distance.
Amani was standing guard in front of the lines of birdcages. A determined look was etched on her face, and her eyes glowered. This meant trouble.
Kareem was furious but he spoke cautiously. “Amani, I have just received a disturbing telephone call from Cousin Faddel. He told me an unbelievable story. He says that you, Amani, stole his birds. Is this true, Daughter?”
Amani moved her lips into a smile, but the look in her eyes negated it. “I did save some birds from a terrible death, Father.”
Kareem said calmly. “You know you must return those birds, Daughter. They do not belong to you.”
My eyes were fixed pleadingly on Amani, hoping she would consent.
Amani’s phony smile disappeared. She thought for a moment before tilting her head in defiance. In a clear and sure voice, she quoted a verse of the Koran, “And they feed, for the love of God, the indigent, the orphan, and the captive.” (S. LXXVI.8) And added, in her own words, “The righteous Muslim will not starve any animal.”
I knew, as does every Muslim, that Islamic authorities agree that the word “captive” includes animals who are under subjection to man, and that such creatures must be properly fed, housed, and looked after by faithful Muslims.
“You will have to return the birds, Amani,” Kareem repeated sternly.
A strangled scream burst out of Amani. “There was no food or water in many of the cages!” Her hoarse voice lowered as she turned to stare into one of the cages nearest her. “When I looked into their sweet little faces, I knew that I must save them!” She gestured toward a bench behind her. “I was too late to save them all,” she said, her voice quivering. “I found more than two dozen dead birds.”
I looked at the bench, and was startled to see a large number of dead birds lying in a perfect row. Amani had placed a wreath of freshly picked flowers around the tiny bodies.
Tears began to form in her eyes. “I will give them a funeral later,” Amani promised.
The insensitive Maha laughed loudly, echoed by the three Filipino gardeners.
“Shut up, and leave this place,” Kareem commanded angrily.
Maha shrugged, and then turned away, but the sound of her amused laughter followed her as she walked down the garden path.
The three Filipinos took cover behind some bushes. I did not point out their presence to Kareem because they were three of my favorite servants, and I did not want to risk deflecting Kareem’s great anger toward Amani, onto them. The lives of our unmarried servants are so empty of family life that they tend to take great interest in our household dramas.
Amani was weeping in earnest now. “I will not return these birds!” she pledged, “If you force me to do so, I will throw myself into the Red Sea!”
I gasped, first the garrote, and now the sea! How would I ever protect my child from the force of her own emotions?
Kareem and I exchanged anxious looks. We both knew that our youngest child loved animals with an intensity that defied all reason.
Kareem’s voice sounded drained and tired. “Amani, sweetheart, I will buy you a thousand other birds.”
“No! No! I will not return these birds!” Amani flung her small body over one of the birdcages and began to screech.
Distraught at the sight of our child in such anguish, Kareem and I both ran to her side.
“Darling,” I cried, “you are going to make yourself sick. Hush, little one.” Amani’s sobs were coming from deep inside her body. I had heard of a female cousin who had cried so hysterically at the sight of her deceased mother that she had broken a blood vessel in her throat and had nearly joined her mother in the grave! I now had horrific visions of such a thing happening to my own daughter. Never had I seen Amani so tormented!
Kareem lovingly held his child in her arms. “All right, Amani. You can keep these birds. I will buy Faddel some more.”
This idea did not meet with Amani’s approval, either. She screamed, “No! Would you provide the murderer with new victims?”
Kareem held tight to his child. He and I exchanged a look of despair. He took her small face in his large hands as he pleaded, “Amani, if you will only stop crying, I promise you, I will think of something we can do.”
Amani’s wild cries slowly turned into pitiful whimpers. Kareem gathered his child in his arms and carried her into the palace and to her room. While Kareem comforted Amani, I searched her room and removed every item that could possibly be used to inflict self-injury. I also removed every sharp or pointed object from her bathroom. Amani did not seem to notice.
On the way back to Amani’s room, I ordered Maha to assist our female servants in making a sweep of our palace. Until this crisis passed, I wanted anything that could be used as a harmful weapon to be locked away.
Maha began to grumble that we were willing to save Faddel’s stupid birds but did not care that young girls were being held there against their will. It was true that I had forgotten all about Maha’s claim to have discovered a harem of distressed girls. I now assured my daughter, “Maha, give your father and me time to calm this situation. After that, I promise, I will check to see what is happening with those young women.”
When Maha made an ugly face and began to make fun of her sister, my patience snapped. “Hush, now! You know how Amani feels when it comes to animals. How would you feel if your sister slashed her throat or hanged herself?”
“I would prepare a feast and hold a great party,” Maha snarled.
I slapped Maha twice. Maha became contrite and hurried to do my bidding.
When I returned to Amani’s room, my wonderful husband was patiently making a list of Amani immediate demands for the care of the rescued birds. He obviously sensed, as did I, that Amani was dangerously close to a nervous collapse.
Kareem turned to me and held out the list. “Sultana, send one of the drivers to purchase twenty large birdcages, a variety of bird seed, and any bird treats and toys that the store might stock.”
“Yes, of course,” I murmured. As my eyes scanned the list, I did Kareem’s bidding. Within the hour, two of our drivers had returned from two pet shops in the city; both had cleaned out the stock in those stores of everything intended for the care of birds.
Kareem instructed all six of our gardeners to lay aside their normal tasks, and help move the birds from their small cages into the new, larger ones. Only after Amani inspected the birds and saw for herself that these creatures were properly fed, watered, and housed in large cages, did she agree to sleep.
I was still apprehensive, so I arranged for six servants to take turns watching over my child while she slept.
Maha, still angry over the events of the day, refused to join us for the evening meal. Kareem and I were too emotionally exhausted to care, and we sat silent as we ate our light meal of chicken kabobs over rice.
Faddel called Kareem on the telephone three times while we were eating, but Kareem refused to take his calls. Only after our meal did he telephone him back to assure him that he would visit Faddel the following day.
Kareem then informed the cook that we would take our coffee in the women’s gardens and together we walked outside, where we sat at a table under one of the trees. Although it was nearly dark, the lively sounds of fluttering birds chirping and splashing in bird baths created a noisy commotion that was difficult to ignore. But I listened with pleasure to the birds enjoying their new lives.
A look from Kareem led to my moving from my chair into his lap. I knew that Kareem’s thoughts were as mine
: if we returned those birds, Amani was fully capable of doing harm to herself. Yet, if we purchased new birds to replace the ones she had stolen, Amani would certainly discover our deception. On the other hand, Faddel was not the type to yield. What on earth were we going to do?
I whispered, “Do you have a plan, Kareem?”
Kareem sighed, but did not speak for a long moment. Finally, he said, “That Faddel is a greedy bastard. I have decided to deed him a piece of my prime property in Riyadh, if he will agree to forgo having birds of any kind in his ridiculous paradise. That should make Amani happy.”
“Prime real estate for a bunch of bedraggled songbirds! Oh, Allah. We will become a big joke!”
“No. Faddel will not speak of this. Not only is he greedy, he is a coward. I will make it clear that it would not be in his best interest to spread news of our private business.”
“He is an evil man,” I agreed, suddenly remembering what Maha had claimed to have found out. I was tempted to ask Kareem if he knew anything about Faddel’s private harem, but I quickly decided that my poor husband had already heard enough problems for one day.
As we sat under the trees, suddenly, at the same moment, every bird in the garden began to sing. Kareem and I sat quietly listening, overcome by the beauty of the sound.
Later, after enjoying our coffee, we retired to our quarters. The long day had finally come to an end, and for that I was most grateful. When I remembered my promise to Maha, however, I had difficulty getting to sleep. Today’s events had drained me of all energy. What would a new morning bring?
Chapter Seven
Heavenly Harem
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I found myself alone in bed. I called out Kareem’s name, but there was no response. My mind was so disordered that it took some minutes for the events of the previous day to come flooding back. Amani—and her birds! It was for this reason that Kareem had awakened so early. This bird business with Faddel would certainly be his first priority today.
I slipped on a simple cotton dress before leaving my suite. First, I paused at Maha’s door and listened. There was no sound, which was a good sign. If Maha were awake, earsplitting music would reverberate through the door. It was my wish that Maha would sleep through the noon hour. I needed time alone to work out an appropriate response to the alleged captive girls’ plight, and to prevent our household from plunging into yet another crisis that involved Faddel.
With a sigh, I pushed that unpleasant thought out of my mind as I walked toward Amani’s room. My youngest daughter was still sleeping. One of the six Filipino housemaids that I had assigned to watch over her was sitting by her bedside, and reassured me, “Ma’am, your daughter slept peacefully throughout the night.”
I retraced my steps back to my own quarters before ordering coffee and a light breakfast of yogurt, cheese, and flat bread from the kitchen. In contrast to yesterday’s dreadful upheavals, there was time for delicious idleness. I lazily stirred my coffee while sitting on our private terrace and enjoyed the spectacular view over the Red Sea which our Jeddah palace offered. It was a day fit for a God. The sky was cloudless and blue, and rays of the sun were warm, not hot, at this hour. Bands of sunlight penetrated deeply into the crystalline waters of the Red Sea. Watching the slow-moving waves lap softly against the shoreline, my body soon fell in rhythm with the sea. If only all days could be as peaceful as this.
Before I had finished my breakfast, Kareem returned.
He settled down in the chair beside me and began to pick at my food with his fingers.
In silence, I examined Kareem’s handsome face, stretching out the minutes of tranquility as long as possible.
“Tell me,” I finally said.
Kareem brought his eyebrows together and then wearily shook his head. “That bastard, Faddel, claimed to have developed a special affection for those damn birds.”
“He would not trade the birds for land?” I asked in disbelief.
Kareem’s eyebrows lifted. “Of course, he would, Sultana. But, he was deliberately difficult.”
“Tell me everything.”
“I do not wish to relive every detail, Sultana,” he said impatiently. “All you need to know is we now own cousin Faddel’s birds, or rather, Amani does. And I have Faddel’s assurances that songbirds will no longer be brought into his earthly paradise.” Kareem lowered his voice slightly. “I’m convinced the man is a lunatic. Can Faddel truly believe that he can outwit God by experiencing paradise without death?” Kareem shook his head back and forth in wonder, “A lunatic.”
I smiled gratefully at my husband. “At least Amani will be consoled. Not many fathers would go to such extremes for the happiness of their children.” I leaned toward my husband and playfully kissed his lips.
But Kareem’s expression hardened. “Sultana, those cousins have never been our friends, so I do not understand why you chose to visit them in the first place. But, please, for the benefit of all, from now on, stay away from that family.”
I tried to keep my emotions from showing in my face. I desperately wanted to tell Kareem about Maha’s shocking claim about a harem with girls kept against their will, and if true, my urgent need to help them. But, I could not speak, for this was not the time. I knew that my husband would consider the fate of the captive women outside the realm of our influence. He was certain to forbid my interference.
So when Kareem took my arm, looked deeply in my eyes, and said, “Stay away from Faddel and Khalidah. Do you understand, Sultana?”, I just nodded and muttered, “Wala yoldaghul moumenu min juhren marratayn,” which means: “The believer never gets a second snake bite from the same snake hole.”
Satisfied that he had made his point, Kareem stood up and put on his most serious face. “We must be wise when choosing our acquaintances, Sultana. Any association with such people as Faddel can only lead to unpleasant consequences.”
He paused, then said, “I am thinking of visiting Hanan and Mohammed. Would you like to come?”
“Thank you, but no. It’s best that I remain with our daughters this day. But, please, darling, will you take along the Eid gifts that I purchased for them?”
I cared deeply for Hanan, who was Kareem’s youngest sister, and her husband Mohammed. Actually, apart from Kareem’s mother, Noorah, I liked every member of my husband’s family, and I looked forward to our visits together with delight. As the years passed, I came to realize that I was fortunate indeed to be married into a family like Kareem’s.
Kareem left our palace, and after a bath, I went to inform Amani of her father’s good news. The poor girl was still in bed and in a deep sleep. The previous day had been so trying for her! Looking at Amani’s sleeping form, I was overcome with love for her, despite her sharp tongue. I kissed her lightly on the cheek before I left to find Maha.
With Amani’s crisis behind me, I now knew that I must pay attention to Maha’s story to maintain my daughter’s respect, and my own self-respect as a champion of women’s rights.
Maha was up and getting dressed. To my surprise, she was not listening to music. Her eyes met mine in the reflection of her vanity mirror. I could see that she was still angry about the previous day’s incident.
“What happened to those birds?” she asked in a surly tone.
Cautiously, I said, “Your father handled the problem. The birds now belong to Amani.”
Maha made an exasperated face. “How did Father manage that?”
“Your father made Faddel a rather generous offer,” I admitted.
Maha’s lip curled. “Well, I refuse to attend a bird funeral! I mean it, Mother!”
I gently placed my hand on Maha’s shoulder and spoke to her image in the mirror. “If that is your wish, Maha.”
She jerked her shoulder away from my touch.
I knew that an apology was in order. I sighed as I said, “Darling, I am sorry about yesterday. Truly, I am, but to hear you say such cruel and unfeeling things about your sister drove me mad. Believe me, should
real harm come to Amani, the last thing you would do is to feast and dance.” I paused for a moment before adding, “If a tragedy should really strike Amani, your heart would be forever burdened by your thoughtless words.”
After considering my words, Maha’s fury seemed to vanish. She smiled. “You are right, Mother.” She swiveled around on her vanity stool, and stared intently into my face. “Now, can we go and save those young women at Cousin Faddel’s palace?”
I sighed deeply. I, too, had once been aflame with the overwhelming desire to help every woman in need. Life had taught me that such desires often met with failure. I patted Maha’s cheek lovingly before sitting down on her bed.
“Darling, tell me about the young women. How did you learn about them?”
Maha laid aside her powder brush and she turned to look at me. Her voice started to race and she stumbled over words. “All right, Mother, I will tell you. Yesterday, after I came out of the bathroom at that evil palace, Layla was nowhere to be found. Since I did not know where the garden was located, I begin to walk around the grounds, looking for you. I searched everywhere, and soon became lost in that maze of pavilions! I found myself on the path leading to the horses, and thought that the gardens might be in that area.”
Pushing her vanity stool along the floor, Maha scooted toward me. She took my hands and squeezed them between her own. “Mother, Cousin Faddel does not own any horses! That sign led to another pavilion! And that pavilion is filled with beautiful young women!”
I had to think for a minute before it struck me. Stallions! I understood that the sign was Faddel’s idea of a joke—a joke at the expense of innocent young women, no doubt.
“Perhaps these women chose what they are doing?” I suggested tentatively. I know that the poverty in other countries often drives young girls, or their families, to agree to sell their bodies.
“No! No!” Maha vigorously shook her head back and forth. “Several of these young women threw themselves at my feet, and pleaded with me to save them!” Maha’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Some of them can be no more than twelve or thirteen years old!”