Princess Sultana's Circle (15 page)

“
Your families must protest
to their embassies. That is your best chance for
release.”

Sobbing voices began to
clamor in objection.

One of the younger girls,
who disclosed that she was from Thailand, wailed, “But, Ma’am, my
own parents sold me to this man.” Her sobbing voice drifted off.
“They will not help me…”

“
That is my story too,”
said another girl, shivering in her skimpy outfit. “I was taken
from my small village in the North to Bangkok. My brother collected
many American dollars for me.”

Another frightened girl
said, “I believed that I had been hired to work as a maid! But, it
was all a lie!”

“
And, I? I was employed as
a seamstress in a factory. My days were spent sewing; my nights
were spent serving many men. I was sold to three different men
before being purchased by Master Faddel.”

Trying to collect my
bewildered thoughts, I exchanged a glance with Maha. If the
families of these young girls had actually sold them into slavery,
how could I possibly help them?

“
Let me think,” I said
nervously. “I need to think.”

A delicate young beauty,
her eyes tear-filled, lightly touched my arm. “You must take us
with you! If you only knew my story, you would not leave me here,
not for another moment!”

Looking into the sad eyes
of that young woman, my heart broke. Although I was fearful of
wasting time, I listened quietly.

Encouraged by my silence,
the young woman said, “I am from a large family in Laos. My family
was starving, so when two men from Bangkok offered money to take me
with them, my parents had no choice. I was chained together with
three other girls from my village, and then we were taken to
Bangkok. We were unloaded at a large warehouse. Then we were forced
to stand naked on a platform before a room filled with men. We were
sold at auction. The other two girls were purchased by a brothel
owner, but I was bought by a man representing Arabs. And, that is
how I came to be here, Ma’am.” Her voice grew low in a pitiful
plea. “Please do not leave me.”

This story stunned me into
silence. Women were being sold at auctions, to the highest
bidders?

Omar interrupted, “Why not
take these girls with you today, Mistress? Leave them at their
embassies. They can take shelter there, I believe.”

What Omar said was true. I
recalled a London television news report of maltreated Filipino
maids in neighboring Kuwait who had taken refuge in just such a
manner. Although the Kuwaiti government had denied their stories of
mistreatment, and forced these young women to live in limbo for
many months, eventually they had been given their freedom to return
to their home countries.

I smiled once again at
Omar. I had hoped he would not be a foe, but I had never dreamed
that he would be such an ally!

Soft voices mingled
together in a demand for freedom. “Yes! Yes! Take us
today!”

A small, pretty girl with
Arabic features inched closer to me. “Please, help us, Ma’am. Our
master is a cruel man. He and four of his six sons come to us every
day. Oftentimes, he brings many other bad men with him.”

“
Our life here is too
horrible,” another girl said as she looked beseechingly into my
face. “You can not imagine what we endure, Ma’am.”

I took a deep breath.
Should I try to save these girls, no matter the consequences? One
look at Maha’s face answered my question. Yes, I should! Yes, I
would! But, first, I must form a plan. I looked at the girls around
me. Many were scantily dressed. I could not take them on the
streets of conservative Saudi Arabia in such attire. Angry,
rock-throwing crowds would gather, which would ensure failure. “Do
you have cloaks to cover your bodies?”

Several of the girls
exchanged looks. One said, “There are none here that we know
of.”

“
Use the sheets from the
beds,” Omar suggested, giving me a sly, knowing look. “There are
ample beds to provide many covers.”

I glanced at opened doors
surrounding the harem. Most led into small cubicles that held
beds.

While the girls ran from
room to room collecting sheets and bed covers, some of the smallest
girls gathered around me. I was astonished to see that two of these
girls were mere children! One was no more than eight or nine years
old!

I held these children
tightly, fighting back rage and tears. How could any mother sell
her own daughter? It was utterly unthinkable.

My head was spinning. I
knew that I could not transport all twenty-five girls in one
automobile. Despite the risk to this secret mission, I must call
home and arrange for several other drivers to meet me at Faddel’s
palace.

I motioned to my daughter,
“Maha, take these children and find covers for them.” When Maha
took the children from my arms, I retrieved my cellular phone from
my bag. My chance to make that call never came.

The room erupted in chaos
when Faddel, Khalidah, and three large men walked into the room. I
felt a deadly chill in my veins as I looked into Faddel’s cold
eyes.

“
When we heard the uproar,
we had no idea that we had such a distinguished guest,” Faddel said
with a smirk as he pulled the telephone from my frozen fingers.
“Sultana, you are not welcome here. Leave this place, at
once.”

I looked past Faddel to
Khalidah. The last time I had seen Khalidah she had fainted. She
looked deadly calm, now.

“
Surely, Khalidah, you do
not approve of this.”

Khalidah looked at me with
contempt. “It is not for you, Sultana, to say what goes on in
another man’s home.”

When the young women
realized what was happening, a chorus of screams rang throughout
the room. Faddel made a quick motion with his hand. The three burly
men accompanying him began to push the young women into rooms and
lock them away.

“
Maha!” I shouted as I
looked around wildly. “Come here, now!” The idea that my daughter
might be locked in with these poor women brought me to the verge of
hysterics.

I grabbed Maha’s hands as
soon as I found her. Once she was safely by my side, I began to
plead with Khalidah, hoping she would support the cause of women,
her sisters.

“
Khalidah, you must know
that these young girls are being raped repeatedly—by your husband,
sons, and other men!” I paused, “And surely, as a wife and mother,
this cannot be to your liking!”

On the surface, Khalidah
was stunningly beautiful, but her words today proved to me that she
was ugly inside. Worse, she was emotionally and spiritually
dead.

She appeared to be unmoved
by my words. “Sultana, this business concerns men,
only.”

“
If you truly believe that,
Khalidah, then you are nothing more than a reed in the wind, with
no mind of your own.”

Khalidah’s face reddened,
but she did not respond to my challenge.

I had heard the rumor some
years before that Khalidah’s attraction to Faddel’s enormous wealth
was the cause for her blind obedience and loyalty. I longed to
shout at Khalidah, to remind her of the wise proverb, that “she who
marries a gorilla for money, when the money goes, the gorilla
remains a gorilla.” Life is indeed strange, and the day might come
when Khalidah found herself with a destitute Faddel whose
wickedness would prove more permanent than his wealth.

But I said nothing, aware
that such words would not further the cause of freedom for these
young women.

Faddel had the effrontery
to try to justify his evil deeds. “Although it is no business of
yours, Sultana, every woman here was sold by her parents. They
received what they were after, as did I. These transactions were
legitimate. I have done nothing wrong.”

“
Legally, perhaps not,
Faddel. Morally, most certainly.”

Faddel shrugged.

Stung by the knowledge I
was not going to succeed in freeing these young women, I
intentionally insulted my cousin. “Faddel, is it so terribly
difficult for you to find sexual companions who don’t have to be
chained, first?”

Maha turned to him in
scorn, “You are a wicked beast! You are!”

Faddel chuckled when he
retorted, “Sultana, I believe that you and your daughters are
conspiring to blacken my reputation.”

Maha grabbed me by the
waist. “Mother! Surely we cannot leave them here!”

My heart sank as I looked
into Maha’s face. “Yes, Daughter, we must. There is nothing more
that we can do here.” I pulled her along, “Come.”

Khalidah turned her back
and left the room.

Faddel’s deceptively soft
voice spoke menacing words as he guided Maha and me out of that
place. “You know, Sultana, if you were anyone else, I would have
you killed.”

Walking beside that
depraved man, I felt greater hatred than I had ever felt for any
person, even my brother Ali. How I longed to threaten Faddel with a
million curses. But I knew that the law of Saudi Arabia had no
provisions to help those girls. There was nothing that I could do,
and I knew it. Most hurtful of all, Faddel knew it, too.

As we walked away, I heard
the heartbroken cries of the young girls, calling out from behind
locked doors. It was more than I could bear! I could not imagine
how this was affecting Maha.

Dismal thoughts flooded my
thinking. Oh, Allah! What a land! What a people! We are so wealthy
that we give no thought to exchanging expensive real estate for a
nest of motley birds that will satisfy the crazy whims of our
children. Yet, we are so morally corrupt that young women are
routinely held captive as sex slaves, and incredibly, there are no
legal means available for decent people to free these women. I felt
hot with shame for my country and my countrymen.

Faddel summoned our driver.
He was careful to wait by our side until he saw us off. When our
automobile appeared, Faddel opened the door, returned my cellular
telephone, and bade us an ironic farewell. “You must come again,
Sultana.” He chuckled, “But, please, come to the main house
instead.”

Sometimes the defeats in
life seem beyond human endurance. I could not speak, and I could
not think until I was free of Faddel’s loathsome
presence.

Maha began to weep. I was
too heartsick to offer comforting words, and just gently stroked
her shoulder.

As we reached the first
turn in the driveway, the eunuch Omar stepped in front of our
automobile. Our driver slammed on the brakes. Flashing his
toothless smile, Omar tapped on the window.

“
Open the window!” I
ordered.

“
Mistress, might I come
with you?” Omar asked in his high feminine voice.

“
With me? I thought you
were a part of Faddel’s family,”

“
I said I was allowed to
live here, Madam; I did not say I was welcomed.” He added, “I have
not been truly welcome since Faddel’s father died, over fifteen
years ago.”

“
Well…” I glanced in the
front mirror and saw that the driver was looking at me in alarm. I
turned back to Omar. “Were you bought as a slave by Faddel’s
family?”

“
Slaves were freed many
years ago.”

That was true. In 1962 the
American President, John F. Kennedy personally appealed to Faisal,
who was then Prime Minister, to abolish slavery in Saudi Arabia.
Our government honored President Kennedy’s request and purchased
freedom for every slave in the country for a price of nearly 5,000
Saudi Riyals ($1,500) per head. Many of these freed slaves had
remained in their ex-owners’ households. Even though Omar had
chosen to remain with the family who once owned him, he was his own
master.

“
Please,
Mistress.”

I quickly considered this
unusual request. Perhaps Faddel would punish Omar for failing to
report my arrival at his harem. I now knew him to be perfectly
capable of any heinous act.

Reluctantly, I said, “Well,
get in. Come with us.”

Once the little man was
settled, I asked, “What makes you want to live with my
family?”

Omar studied me carefully
for a moment before answering, “Well,” he finally said, “I have
lived for many years in this land. When I was eight years old, I
was stolen from my family in Sudan and sold to a wealthy Turk. That
same year, my owner traveled to Makkah for the Haj.” Omar chuckled,
“He was a fat fool who ate too much grease and sugar, and he
dropped dead while circling that black rock at the big mosque. I
was taken away by the authorities before being presented as a gift
to Faddel’s grandfather, who was owed some favor or another by the
authorities.

“
I am now eighty-eight
years old. So for eighty years, I have lived among your people.” He
sat silent for a long moment before saying, “It used to be that
Arabs from this country had a little humanity in their hearts. But
I have not personally witnessed a single act of kindness in more
years than I can remember.” He took a deep breath, “I promised
myself some years ago that the next kind person I met, I would
serve.” Omar looked at me and smiled gaily.