Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia

one
condemned; women are not allowed a voice in my land, not even women
of the Royal Family. With sorrow I told the nurse that not only
would the girl die as scheduled but her death would be hard and her
life and death would go unrecorded. With bitterness, I thought of
the truly guilty ones roaming free, without thought or care for the
tragic death they had wrought.
    Kareem arrived with a joyful face. He had
organized our return to the palace as carefully as a plan of war.
Police escorts eased our journey through the bustling traffic of
the growing city of Riyadh. Kareem told me to hush when I related
the incident at the hospital. He had no desire to hear such sadness
with his new son in his arms, traveling toward his destiny as a
prince in a land that soothed and nurtured such a one as he.
    My feelings for my husband suffered as I saw
that he cared little for the fate of a lowly girl. I gave a deep
sigh and felt lonely and afraid of what I and my future daughters
might face in the years to come.
     

Chapter Sixteen: Death of a King
    The year 1975 holds bittersweet memories for
me; it was a year of both glittering happiness and discouraging
sadness for my family and my country.
    Surrounded by those who loved him, Abdullah,
my adored son, celebrated his second birthday. A small circus from
France was brought over on our private planes to entertain. The
circus stayed for a week at the palace of Kareem’s father.
    Sara and Asad had survived their daring
courtship and were now happily married and awaiting their first
child. Asad, in great expectation of the child to be born, had
flown to Paris and purchased all the baby clothes in stock at three
large stores. Noorah, his disbelieving mother, told all who would
listen that Asad had lost his mind. Enveloped in such love, my
longsuffering sister, Sara, beamed with happiness at last.
    Ali was studying in the United States and was
no longer intimately involved in his sisters’ affairs. He gave
Father the fright of his life when he announced that he was in love
with an American working-class woman, but much to Father’s relief,
Ali was fickle and soon informed us that he preferred to have a
Saudi wife. We later discovered that the woman had struck Ali over
the head with a candlestick when he became belligerent and
demanding at her refusal to be obedient.
    We young, modern-thinking Saudi couples
embraced the subtle relaxation of the severe restrictions upon
women as the years of efforts by King Faisal and his wife Iffat for
women’s education and freedom proved successful. Along with our
education came a determination to change our country. A few women
no longer covered their faces, discarding their veils and bravely
staring down the religious men who dared to challenge them. They
still covered their hair and wore abaayas, but the bravery of these
few gave hope to us all. We royals would never be allowed such
freedom; it was the middle class that showed their strength.
    Schools for women were now opening without
public demonstrations of disapproval by the mutawas. We felt
certain that women’s education would eventually lead to our
equality. Unfortunately, the punishment of death for women among
the uneducated fundamentalists still occurred. One small step at a
time, we grimly reminded each other.
    Suddenly, over a six-month period, Kareem and
I became the owners of four new homes. Our new palace in Riyadh was
finally completed. Kareem decided his new son would grow more hardy
if he inhaled fresh sea breezes, so we purchased a new villa by the
seaside in Jeddah. My father owned a spacious apartment house in
London only four streets away from Harrods, and he offered the
property, at a grand bargain, to any of his children who might be
interested. Since my other sisters and their husbands already owned
apartments in London, and Sara and Asad were in the process of
purchasing an apartment in Venice, Kareem and I eagerly seized the
opportunity to have a home in that colorful city so loved by Arabs.
And finally, as a special three-year wedding anniversary gift for
presenting him with a precious son, Kareem bought me a lovely villa
in Cairo.
    Upon the occasion of Abdullah’s birth, the
family jeweler had flown to Riyadh from Paris to bring a selection
of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds that he had designed into seven
distinctive necklace, bracelet, and earring sets. Needless to say,
I felt richly rewarded for doing what I had wanted to do.
    Kareem and I spent as much time as