Princess Sultana's Circle

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!”
    I cried out in anguish.
These girls were younger even than Amani!
    “ What did you tell
them?”
    “ I promised them that I
would come back, and soon! That I would bring my mother to them,
and that she would know what to do.”
    “ Oh, Maha.” I closed my
eyes and let my chin fall onto my chest. “If only life were so
simple.”
    With a sinking feeling, I
begin to recall the number of times that I, too, was as idealistic
and optimistic as my daughter. Now, as a woman of forty, I knew
that it was not a simple matter to come between men and their
sexual desires. It is the natural inclination of many men, and not
only in the Middle East, to seek out young girls or young women as
sexual conquests. And too often it seems to be of no concern to
them that their pleasure is taken from one who is too young, or
forced against her will.
    “ What a cruel and evil
world we live in,” I said dejectedly, as tears filled my
eyes.
    Maha looked at me with
trusting eyes. “What are you going to do, Mother? I promised
them!”
    I made a painful admission.
“I do not know, Maha. I do not know.”
    “ Perhaps Father can help,”
Maha said, with hope reflected in her innocent face. “Just as he
saved Amani’s birds!”
    I sat silently, fighting
the irresistible force of our reality. I recalled clearly a time in
the late 1980s when Cory Aquino, the President of the Philippines,
had made a diplomatic issue out of young Filipino girls being hired
to come as housemaids to Saudi Arabia, but when they arrived, being
forced to serve as sex slaves. Aquino had banned single Filipino
women from traveling to Saudi Arabia.
    Our own King Fahd had
become furious at this insulting restriction and reacted with a ban
of his own, saying that all Filipinos, both male and female, would
be forbidden from working in Saudi Arabia if President Aquino’s ban
was enforced.
    Aquino’s brave attempt to
protect her countrywomen was a failure, for the economy of her
country greatly depended upon Filipino people working in the oil
rich lands of the Middle East and sending their money back to
support their families.
    And so young Filipino women
hired as housemaids still serve our men as sex slaves, in addition
to their household duties.
    “ Mother?”
    I searched my mind for a
solution, but, once more, I had to admit, “I do not know what to
do.”
    “ If Father can free a bunch
of birds, why can’t he do the same for human beings?”
    “ Your father has gone for
the day.”
    “ Then, Mother, we shall go
there. We will bring those girls back here, and we will hire them
to work as our maids!” she said passionately.
    “ Maha, it is more
complicated than that.”
    Maha jumped to her feet
with pain and fury on her face. Her words were rash. “I will go
alone, then! Like Amani, I will free these girls by
myself!”
    Knowing that my daughter
had made up her mind, I realized I had no choice.
    “ All right, Maha. We will
go together.” I informed my Filipino maid, Letha, that we were
leaving, instructing her that the moment Amani awakened, she should
tell her that the birds now belonged to her. Then I accompanied
Maha back to “Paradise Palace,” not knowing what to
expect.
    Once we had arrived on
Faddel’s palace grounds, I told our driver, “We are meeting
Khalidah outside the palace.” I pointed to the “Stallions” sign.
“Please drop us off here, return to the gate, and await our
summons.” Both the driver and I carried cellular
telephones.
    A skeptical look