Widowed in Saudi Arabia, Part 4

This is Part 4 of a 4-part series. Click here for Part 1.


I t’s not easy being married to someone from a totally different country, culture, and religion. And it’s certainly not easy to leave your family behind and move to your spouse's homeland, uproot your whole life, forget about the religion you were raised with, and give up the many freedoms you have taken for granted to come to a country like Saudi Arabia, where a woman literally become the property of her husband. Until my own son was 14, the idea of moving to Saudi Arabia never really crossed my mind. Then suddenly, after 30 years in the states, my husband expressed his desire to move back to the country where he was born and grew up. If my son had been a girl, I would have never agreed to come. And the fact that he was already a teenager and would be a man in a few years was a factor in my decision to come here also. If things didn’t work out here in Saudi Arabia for us, then I figured we would be able to leave when my son came of age, although my husband has always assured me that we are free to leave here at any time if things get too unbearable for us. You see, females in Saudi Arabia are always the wards of a man here, whether it be her father, or her husband, or even her own son, as in Asima’s case.

Just recently Asima was referred to a Saudi lawyer by another British friend. The lawyer kindly offered his services free of charge and he represented them in court, which finally named Faris, at 20, the legal guardian over his sister Jannah. He is also the legal guardian of his mother Asima, since they are related by blood. Once Faris turns 21, he will be his own man, no longer needing a legal guardian of his own – formerly his grandfather, now his uncle – which means that once Asima has their affairs in order and sells their home, they will finally be able to leave Saudi Arabia. Once the house is sold, the proceeds will have to be divided up according to Islamic law.

I have the utmost respect and admiration for Asima. I’m actually in awe of how she has managed to hold her family together and survived here despite the odds and the obstacles she has had to face. Getting virtually no help from her husband’s family, as well overcoming the power struggle they have imposed on her over the years, has only made her stronger. Asima is a survivor. Yet she doesn’t see herself as brave and feels that she has only done what any other mother in her same position would have done to protect her children, although that’s not entirely true. Other women who have been widowed or divorced here have chosen to leave Saudi Arabia, most having to leave their children behind because of the laws here that favor the man - no surprise in this male-dominated society. Asima credits the support of a few close friends and the loyalty of her Pakistani driver with helping her make it through these past eight tumultuous years. Before he dies, her husband Abdul had asked the driver to stay on and watch over his family after he was gone, and the driver has done so, even though he's past retirement age. He tells her that he will only retire and return to his home once she is free from this place with her children.

Asima has no regrets about marrying her husband. She has two awesome children and fond memories of her all too fleeting years spent with Abdul. But there are times when she thinks about how many years of her life she has lost for loving him and staying. However as far as her kids are concerned, nothing has been too high of a price to pay to stay in their lives as she has done. And when I asked her what advice she might offer to Saudi wives before coming to the KSA, she had this to say: “I wish I could just say ‘Don’t Come!’ But life isn’t that black and white. We always believe the worst won’t happen to us. We are with the person we love and who loves us, and that’s all that matters at the time. I would certainly advise all women to make a contract before marriage and be prepared just in case, both legally and financially. Also, have all legal documents kept safely with her, the house in her name, separate bank accounts, and dual citizenship for herself and the children.”

By the way, you may have guessed that Asima is not her real name. It was a name we chose for her because of its Arabic meaning, which is “protector.” Her sole aim all these years has been to protect her children, and she has done a remarkable and admirable job of doing just that. She hopes that by letting her story be known, it might help at least one woman make the right decision in her life and be protected. Asima knows that there are good Saudi men (she had one!) and good Saudi families. Unfortunately her Saudi family has been unkind and cruel to her and her children, a fate they will hopefully not have to endure much longer. She can see the light at the end of the tunnel now, and it has been a very long tunnel. Telling her story has been very difficult for her; it’s been like reliving the pain of the last eight years again. But she has hope for the future, and she’s confident now that there IS a future for her and her children out there.

So let Asima’s story serve as a warning for any woman marrying a Saudi man and considering a move to Saudi Arabia. We all want our happy ending, but Saudi Arabia may be a difficult place to find it.

Asima continues to live in Saudi Arabia for now and still has her ups and downs, good days and bad. The end of her story has not yet been written because it has not yet played out. She still has hurdles ahead of her. There will be another chapter down the road, maybe even two, before all is said and done, and I will bring it to you at that time. Please keep her and her children in your prayers in the meantime.

And thank you, Asima, for sharing your important story with us.

UPDATE: Follow THIS LINK for a final update to Asima's story.