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

through a year of
difficulties. Yes, marriage proves restrictive and irritating. We
had enjoyed seven years of immense pleasures and suffered through
only one year of trouble and evolution. For that, thoughts of fresh
joys, a new uncomplicated woman perhaps, crept into my partner’s
dreams.
    Worst of all, he was a man who could
blackmail the one with whom he had borne children. Without shame,
he had dangled the sinister possibility of his second wife
determining the happiness of my precious children. That should
connect me with the reality of my male-dominated world.
    As a plan began to grow in my mind, I thought
of my husband with pity. His memory had dimmed of the fiery one he
had wed. Kareem would find it difficult to outwit me in the
possession of my children.
     

Chapter Nineteen: Escape
    Unlike most Saudi husbands, Kareem kept his
family’s passports and papers within easy reach of his wife.
Already I was a master at duplicating his signature. His personal
seal was stored on top of his desk in his home study. By the time I
had gathered my thoughts and returned to the house, Kareem was no
longer in evidence. So he was a coward too. I knew with certainty
that he would stay at his father’s palace for a night or two.
    A sudden thought of Noorah came to mind. I
seethed with anger as I imagined my mother-in-law’s pleasure at my
predicament. More than likely, she had already selected the second
wife for her eldest son. Until that moment I had not considered who
the new wife would be; perhaps she was a youthful royal cousin, for
we royals tend to wed royalty.
    I calmly packed a traveling case and emptied
our hidden safe of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Like most of
the royals, Kareem had plans for the possibility of revolutionary
fervor, which often spring to life unexpectedly in lands ruled by
monarchies. We had talked of his plan to buy our lives should the
populous weak ever overthrow the strong. I uttered a murderous
prayer for our Shiite minority in the Eastern Province to overthrow
our Sunni leaders; a vision of Kareem’s head skewered on a post
brought a smile to my grim countenance. After packing my wealth of
jewels in a small travel bag, I prepared my travel papers with
utmost ease. Finally I was ready.
    I could not trust any of my sisters, for they
might be tempted to divulge my plan to their husbands. And men
stick together; Kareem would be notified immediately.
    I called for my most trusted maid, for I
suspected she would be the first questioned by Kareem, and told her
I was going to Jeddah for a few days and to please advise my
husband of my plans, should he inquire.
    I telephoned my favorite of the family’s
pilots and advised him that we would be flying to Jeddah within the
hour; he was to meet me at the airport. I called the servants in
Jeddah and informed them that I would be visiting a friend in the
city; perhaps I would come by the villa for a visit. Should Kareem
call and request to speak to me, they should tell him that I was at
the home of a friend and would call him back at my first
opportunity.
    My deceitful actions were an attempt to keep
Kareem from my true travel plans as long as possible.
    As I was driven to the airport, I watched, in
wonder, at the mass of Thursday evening traffic in Riyadh. Our city
was filled with foreign workers, for we Saudis could not bring
ourselves to work at menial jobs. One day the underprivileged would
weary of our ill-treatment; our carcasses would make food for the
packs of wild dogs that roamed our cities.
    When the American pilot saw the black shadow
that was me walking in his direction, he grinned and waved. He had
taken me on many journeys, and was a warm reminder of the open and
friendly pilots who had flown my mother and me to Sara’s side so
many years before. The memory caused my heart to flutter and to
ache for the healing embrace of my mother.
    When I boarded the plane, I told the pilot
that our plans had changed; one of the children had become ill in
Dubai, and I had just received a telephone call from Kareem
advising me that l should go to our child rather than Jeddah. He,
Kareem, would follow tomorrow if it was a real emergency.
    I lied with the greatest of ease when I told
the pilot that we, of course, imagined that our youngest was simply
homesick and that my presence would soothe her feelings. I laughed
when I said that they had been away for three weeks, much too long
for the little one.
    Without questioning me further, the