Girls of Riyadh

“You’re going to apologize to Kari for what you did to her and for the garbage you said to her. These stupid things you do aren’t going to work with someone like me. Got that? If your family didn’t know how to raise you, well, then I’ll have to do it myself!”

“You’re not going to tell me what to do! I will never apologize to that Filipino! And for what? And who should do the apologizing?”

Rashid grabbed her arm and yanked. “Look, lady! You’re the one who is going and you’re the one who is apologizing. And after that you are getting on the first airplane out of here and you are going back to your family and I don’t want to see your face here ever again. I’m not a man that a woman like you is going to order around!”

“Yeah, right! So I’m the one who wasn’t raised properly! And what about you, mister? Cheating on me with that Asian housemaid!”

The slap landed on her right cheek, and the sound of it echoed in her head.

“That ‘maid’ is as good as you, and she’s worth your whole family, too, do you understand? At least her father didn’t come kissing up to my father so he could marry his daughter to a man who he knew loved someone in America and had been living with her for seven years! This housemaid loved me and stood next to me and gave me a place to live when I wasn’t getting a penny from home, when my family refused to let us get married and cut off my money for three years! She didn’t run after me because of money and my family’s reputation! The one you hate so much is more honest and more honorable than you are and more than your family is, much, much more!”

After the painful slap, Gamrah’s mind stopped taking anything in. Everything Rashid said after that, all the insults, were just a continuation of that never-ending slap. Without realizing what she was saying and that the timing was all wrong to confess such a thing (is it ever okay to use children as human shields during marital wars?), she said, amid her tears, touching the spot on her cheek with one hand and putting the other on her belly, “I’m pregnant.”

Gamrah’s voice started to fade as the scene grew more tense, while Rashid’s voice got louder. Rashid had become a mass of anger, his eyes glowing like a pair of bright-red coals. His voice boomed out:

“What? Pregnant? You are pregnant! How did that happen? Who gave you permission to get pregnant? You mean you’re not taking the pills? Didn’t we agree there would be no pregnancy until I finish my PhD and we go back to Saudi? You figured you could twist my arm with these filthy tricks!”

“Me? I’m the one with dirty tricks? Am I the one who wanted to keep an innocent wife dangling for two years, having her work for you as a servant until you get your diploma, and then planning to throw her out like trash? Was it me who married a good girl from a good family while I was playing around with a cheap whore?”

The second slap came and she fell to the floor, sobbing painfully. Rashid left the apartment to run into the arms of the “unworthy one,” leaving Gamrah cursing and slapping her cheeks and spitting at him, in a state of hysteria, close to madness.

14.

To: seerehwenfadha7et@yahoogroups.com

From: “seerehwenfadha7et”

Date: May 14, 2004

Subject: Of Michelle and of Faisal I Will Tell You

Love is a matter of the heart, and a person has no control over it. Human hearts lie between two fingers—the fingers of Allah the merciful—and He tilts them as He wills. If love were not so very precious and fine, then so many people, ever since the time of the prophets, would not have ventured there. The Prophet—may the blessings and peace of God be upon him—stressed that the flame of love can only be quenched by marriage. For love which is bound by the reins of chastity and piety gives no cause for shame. But if the marriage does not occur, then patience with the bitterness of disappointment is the only solution.