by Jean Sasson
I followed him.
These cries had also disturbed Nura and Sara, who along with their husbands, Ahmed and Asad, quickly joined Kareem and me. As we made our way through the labyrinth of the large camp, we saw several of our male employees also bolting from their tents to find the source of the commotion.
The cries slowly faded, but still, we followed the troubling sounds to one of the smaller tents housing our female servants. Just as we arrived, the cries diminished. No light came from within the tent, but loud American rock-and-roll music suddenly blared into our ears.
Relieved, Kareem muttered, “Some of the women have gotten into an argument over one thing or another.”
Ahmed nodded. “Now they are covering up with loud music.”
I felt less certain that all was well. I suggested, “Since we are here, we should make sure that everyone is all right.”
Sara agreed. “Yes.”
“And tell them to turn off that music.” Ahmed said with a tinge of annoyance. “They are disturbing the whole camp.”
While our husbands waited impatiently outside, my sisters and I cautiously entered the tent. The music abruptly ceased.
This tent, which housed ten or more maids, was divided into several private areas by partitions made of heavy fabric. As I parted these drapes, I held Kareem’s flashlight high, looking into the women’s faces. “Are you unwell?”
One of the women replied, “We are fine, Ma’am.”
“What has happened?”
Another answered, “There is no problem, here.”
“Hmmm.” I could tell from the women’s expressions and the tone of their voices that they had not been sleeping. Surely, these women had heard the loud cries that had traveled the distance to other tents! Yet, no one offered any information.
I whispered to my sisters. “They are hiding something.”
“Who is it that we heard screaming?” Nura demanded when we finally came upon Libby.
Libby’s eyes were wet with tears, but clearly, she was not the source of the screams we had heard. After hesitating, she looked into my face and whispered, “Come, Ma’am, I will show you.”
Libby was familiar with the interior of this tent and quickly led us through several partitioned areas before pointing at one particular section.
“In there, Ma’am,” she whispered before turning and rushing back to her bed.
This was all very strange. By now, our curiosity was even more aroused.
Nura yanked open the partition. I directed the flashlight into the area and was met by a shocking, terrible sight! Two men were assaulting a woman! A third man was watching! Sara screamed.
One man was covering the poor victim’s mouth in an effort to silence her cries. Upon seeing us, he now sat like one paralyzed. I recognized this man as Taher, the middle son of our sister, Tahani.
As if in a scene of slow motion, the second man who was on top of the naked woman gradually turned to face us. I gasped as I recognized Rashed, one of Ali’s many sons.
I glanced at the man sitting in the corner of the room, and saw none other than Shadi, Dunia’s favored son. The expression on his face was one of total surprise. He had not anticipated such an intrusion—and certainly not from his Aunties.
An enraged Nura shouted, “What is going on here?”
I cried out, “Kareem! Come! Quickly!”
Realizing that our husbands were near, my three nephews began to run from the scene, roughly shoving Nura and me aside, and knocking Sara to the ground. I struck one of the three with my flashlight, but was unsuccessful in slowing their frantic retreat.
Nura ran after them.
I cried out, “Kareem! Help us!”
Our husbands apprehended them as the three ran from the tent. We then heard the renewed shouts of our husbands and nephews.
The small area within the tent suddenly filled with the other female servants. As faint moans came from the woman who had been assaulted, the women gathered round her side. I pressed through the crowd of women to see who had been attacked. It was the same young woman whom I had seen earlier in the day with Shadi.
I cried out, “Our nephews have raped Dunia’s maid!”
Sara was suddenly beside me. She began to comfort the distraught girl. “Poor, poor dear.”
The poor girl had been stripped of her clothing. She lay naked and defenseless before us. Her face was a frightful mask of terror, and her delicate frame was racked with sobs. She was so small that she appeared to be more a child than a woman. I guessed her age to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years.
Libby came into the room and began to soothe her. “Veena, stop crying. You are safe, now.”
“Bring a pail of water and towels,” Sara ordered. “She has been seriously injured.”
For the first time I noticed that blood was streaming down the girl’s legs onto the Persian carpet.
My fury at this senseless brutality was hard to control. I had a strong desire to attack the attackers, and I stormed outside with that intent. Our loud cries and shouts had brought all members of our party from their tents. The voices of my sisters, their husbands and sons, along with those of our servants, now merged in a loud general uproar. I was pleased to see that Kareem kept a determined grip on Shadi’s arm. Asad was grimly holding onto Taher. Ahmed had placed both his arms around Rashed’s waist.
Nura tried in vain to speak above the clamor of voices.
Raising my voice as loudly as possible, I, too, tried to explain what had happened.
“A defenseless woman has been assaulted!” I cried out again and again.
Nobody seemed to hear me except Shadi. Our eyes met. The look he gave me was scornful which made me so furious that I seriously considered searching out a heavy stick to beat this nephew of mine!
Ahmed’s loud voice of authority finally quieted the crowd. “Quiet! Everyone!”
After glancing around at the faces in the crowd, Ahmed said, “The family will meet in my tent. Now.”
Pulling the reluctant Shadi along with him, Kareem walked away.
I hurried along behind him.
Tahani ran to my side. “Sultana, whatever has happened?”
I gazed sadly at this sister. Tahani was a wonderful mother, and I knew that she had raised her sons to respect women. Tahani would be devastated to learn of Taher’s participation in this terrible attack. I hugged her but said simply, “We will ask your son for an explanation, Tahani.”
Tahani’s eyes lowered in dread of what she was to learn.
Dunia, weeping a mother’s tears, was trailing along beside Shadi.
Ali was already quietly questioning his son, Rashed. My brother’s loud voice suddenly rose in irritation as he exclaimed, “We were awakened for such a thing?”
Ahmed reprimanded him, “Ali, please do not discuss this business in front of those who are in our employ.”
I glanced behind us. Our curious servants were following us from a short distance.
The moment we entered Ahmed’s tent, the clamor rose once again as everyone tried to talk at once. Only after Kareem, shouting angrily, reminded everyone that Ahmed was the eldest in our family, and as such, deserved to be heard, did the uproar subside.
Ahmed said, “I do not know what has happened, myself. All I know is that screams coming from the tent of the women awakened us. When our wives went inside to investigate, we heard more screams.”
With his free hand, Ahmed gestured toward Taher, Rashed, and Shadi.
“These young men came running from that tent, a place forbidden to them. Shouts from within called out for us to capture the intruders.”
He shrugged, “And, so we did. How could we know the intruders were our own nephews?”
He nodded in the direction where Nura was standing. “Nura will have to tell you what happened inside the tent.”
Nura motioned for me to come and stand beside her. With grim determination, I slowly walked across the room and linked arms with my sister. Ali gave me a mena
cing glare that I ignored.
Nura tried to explain. “Sultana, Sara, and I have witnessed a most horrifying sight.” She nodded toward her nephews, “These young men whom we all love, were raping a woman. We saw the attack with our own eyes.”
I stared at my nephews in utter contempt. Ali’s son, Rashed, was smirking! Dunia’s son, Shadi, appeared to be enraged. Of the three, only Taher looked ashamed. His face was red, and his chin was hanging against his chest.
Nura continued. “Not only that, but in their haste to run away, these nephews of ours pushed and shoved their own Aunties! Poor Sara was knocked to the ground.”
This was the first Asad had heard of this. Before I had the opportunity to tell him that Sara was unhurt, Asad roughly pushed Taher aside and ran from the tent to look for his wife. Poor Tahani burst into tears. Dunia collapsed against Haifa.
“Who was raped?” Haifa asked.
Nura shrugged, “I do not know this woman.”
I offered, “A woman by the name of Veena. She is one of Dunia’s maids, I believe.”
For the first time, Shadi spoke in his own defense. His voice was abrupt. “This woman does not work for my mother. She belongs to me.”
Dunia looked up. “Shadi is right. The woman is his.”
Shadi’s expelled breath was noisy. “I bought her when I was in Pakistan. She is mine to do with as I please.”
My stomach plummeted. From past knowledge of Ali and his sons, I knew that some of my nephews often traveled to Thailand, the Philippines, India, and Pakistan for the purpose of buying time with young prostitutes. But, this was the first time I had heard of any of these nephews actually purchasing a woman to bring her into our Kingdom as a sexual slave. Certainly, such a thing is not uncommon in Saudi Arabia, and I knew too well that a number of our cousins, such as Faddel, made a habit of such activities, but none of our own husbands or sons had yet descended into such moral decay. At least, not until tonight.
I stared at Shadi in utter loathing. So! My own nephew was a man who would stop at nothing to satisfy his lust!
At this new information, our husbands began to show a certain amount of discomfort.
Kareem released his grip on Shadi.
Ahmed dropped his arm from Rashed’s waist.
Instantly, I knew what our men were thinking. Had Taher, Rashed, and Shadi entered the women’s tent, which was strictly forbidden to them, and attacked one of our female servants, then they would have seen cause to punish the young men. But now that they had learned that Shadi owned the woman who was being attacked, the situation was suddenly viewed in a different manner, no matter how offensive the attack had been. In their eyes, what had happened to Veena was a personal matter between a man and his woman, and they had no right to interfere!
Seeing the indignant look on my face, Ahmed said, “Shadi, the three of you were wrong to shove your Aunties! Each of you will apologize.”
Shadi’s thick lips were tight from anger.
“Yes,” Dunia said, “I cannot believe that a son of mine would shove my own sisters!”
I turned back to stare in contempt at Dunia. My sister was obviously relieved that our men were now focusing their attention on her son’s manners, rather than on his criminal conduct.
“Of course, I apologize.” Shadi said in a sullen tone.
Ali nudged his son.
“And, I apologize, also.” Rashed said with a strained smile.
Although too embarrassed to look into our faces, Taher too mumbled an apology.
At that moment, Sara and Asad came into the tent, and Sara reassured us that she was unhurt.
“Now, apologize once more,” Ali encouraged, “Your Auntie Sara was nearly injured by your brash act.”
All three young men quickly made their individual apologies to Sara.
Sara ignored them, and searched the crowd until she saw my face. She said, “Veena has lost too much blood, Sultana. I believe that she needs urgent medical attention.”
I held my hand over my mouth, momentarily speechless at the image that arose in my mind.
No one spoke until Shadi finally said, “She is my responsibility. I will take her back into the city.”
I gasped. Unless someone acted, Veena’s enslavement would be sanctioned if our family now allowed Shadi to take her away. The subject would be forever closed. Poor Veena would be used as a sexual toy for Shadi and his friends as long as she was young and attractive. Once they were tired of her, she would become a house servant.
I knew that I could not let this unfortunate girl remain in the clutches of my cruel nephew. Someone had to take up this helpless woman’s cause! Looking around at the faces of my family, I realized that it was up to me. I would have to save this woman!
“No!” I shouted, shocking everyone. “You will do no such thing, Shadi! Kareem and I will take her to a doctor!”
Kareem’s reply disappointed me. “Sultana, this is not our business,” he said sternly.
But the tone of my voice silenced Kareem’s objections. “It is our business! I do not care how much money Shadi paid for Veena, Kareem. No woman should be the property of any man against her will, and he certainly has no right to rape and abuse her!”
I looked at Sara before turning back to face our men. “Never again will I stand by while a woman is being abused.” I squared my shoulders in determination. “If Shadi tries to take this woman away, he will have to kill me first!”
Sara stepped forward and seized my hand. “Shadi will have to kill me, also.”
Dunia cried out. “Oh! Allah! Help us!”
Nura pulled me close to her. “Sultana and Sara are right. We cannot allow a situation that shames Allah, Himself.”
Together, Tahani and Haifa walked over to embrace me.
Haifa said, “I stand with my sisters.”
Tahani’s eyes were wet with tears as she stared at her son, Taher. “Our sons have committed an evil act. I, too, will join Sultana’s circle.”
A fierce-looking Ali stared at our husbands, as he spoke contemptuously. “You cannot control your women?”
Kareem appeared stricken, but said nothing. Not knowing what to do, Ahmed chose to do nothing.
Only Asad spoke up. “Our wives are right. We must not support such evil. If our sons need sexual companions, there are many women who will willingly participate. There is no need for our sons to ever take a woman by force.”
The changing situation did not sweeten Shadi’s temper. He shouted, “You are interfering in my business! This woman belongs to me, and there is nothing you can do about it!”
Dunia, who had recovered by now, stood up and rushed to Shadi’s side. Standing arm-in-arm with her son, she looked at my sisters and me.
“You are not thinking clearly, sisters. For their health, our sons must have women. Otherwise, there will be a build-up of their body fluids, and this will lead to grave illnesses.”
Nura wearily shook her head at such ignorance. “You speak nonsense, Dunia.”
Dunia persisted. “Remember that this woman was purchased from her own father. He received more money than he could ever hope to earn in more than five years! He was pleased to sell his daughter! Pleased, I tell you! My son did nothing wrong!”
I was so disgusted that I could not even look at Dunia, my own sister.
Ali began to speak, “Dunia is right. Without available women to have sex, our unmarried sons will sicken.”
Asad raised his voice, “Are we men animals, then, Ali?”
Ali then foolishly tried to put the blame on Allah! “Asad,” he said, “Great Allah, Himself, made us the way we are.”
At this Ahmed finally burst out, “Oh, shut-up, Ali. You speak as though all men are weak and helpless fools.”
Ali’s face grew bright red but the force of Ahmed’s words silenced him.
I exchanged a quick look of satisfaction with Sara and began to walk toward the exit of the tent.
A battle of wills had begun, and I knew that if I did not prev
ail, that the life of yet another woman would be destroyed.
I challenged Shadi one last time.
“I am going to Veena, Shadi. If you want her badly enough to kill me, then she is yours.”
“And, me, too.” Sara declared without a moment of hesitation.
“And, me.” Tahani said in a low voice.
“I am coming, too, Sultana.” Haifa called out.
Nura’s voice was loud and clear. “Shadi, your Aunties will form a circle of protection around Veena. I advise you not to try to cross it.”
“Sultana’s circle of safety,” Tahani said suddenly in a fierce tone.
Apart from Dunia, all my sisters joined me as I left the tent.
Apart from Asad, who quickly followed Sara, our men were left alone, standing in shock.
Epilogue
On that same evening that my sisters and I circled protectively around Veena, our husbands finally moved to support us. Veena was transported to a private medical clinic in Riyadh where her internal injuries were treated. We discovered that the poor Veena had lost several pints of blood during the gruesome attack. It turned out she was only fourteen years old. Later, after she was deemed medically fit for release from the clinic, my sisters and I learned the details of Veena’s pitiful life.
She was born in the slums of Lahore, Pakistan. The family lived in a flimsy shack built from scrap lumber, sheets of metal, and cardboard that Veena’s parents had gathered from one of Lahore’s many city dumps. Her father was a cobbler; her mother, a street beggar.
Veena’s childhood had been brutish. She had never been to school, but instead, from the time she could walk, she had been a beggar like her mother.
Other children were born to Veena’s parents until the family eventually swelled to twelve. Rarely was there enough food for everyone. Veena could not recall a single instance of eating food until her stomach was full.
In Pakistan, as in Saudi Arabia, there is no value placed on women’s lives. Too often, poor families sacrifice their daughters for the general good of the family. And, that is what happened with Veena.
Veena was always a small, pretty child, and when she reached puberty, her attractiveness was noted by a number of people on the streets in their slum neighborhood. Several women known to the family began to tell stories of other pretty young girls who had brought a high price from wealthy brothel keepers who were always looking for new virgins.
