Widowed in Saudi Arabia - Update

Several years ago in 2009, I brought you the true cautionary tale of a British woman who was widowed in Saudi Arabia.  In the four part series, I detailed the struggles of the woman and her children when her Saudi husband passed away and how her husband's family trapped the woman and her children in Saudi Arabia for ten long years.  

(To read the original four part series, here are the links:  Part One; Part Two; Part Three; and Part Four.)

By late 2010, the family managed to finally escape from the country and I wrote a minor update at that time which focused on the country's male guardianship system.  The seven years since then haven’t been easy for the family, but they have been rebuilding their lives day by day.  I am pleased to now bring you the latest update on this family and their will to survive.  So here, once again, is "Asima," in her own words ...

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How are you an​​d the kids doing? Have they been able to adapt to their new lives?

I’ve been free from Saudi now  for 7 years,  It certainly has been eye opening,  I guess when you’re in the  situation I was in, where you think you will never see freedom again, you cling onto  there being ‘light at the end of the tunnel’. However that’s far from the truth and it’s the beginning of another chapter. It has been hard adjusting. If we had stayed in Saudi, my son would have had a future but my daughter wouldn’t have.  Now the roles are reversed - my daughter has a future, as she was 13 when we escaped from Saudi Arabia, so going to school outside the kingdom has given her an entrance to society, but my son has struggled.

​W​as the adjustment to freedom overwhelming?​ 

Extremely!!! The adjustment was hard.  After 21 years in Saudi (all my adult life), it took me at least 2 years to learn how to be independent again. The children went through numerous rounds of therapy, which my daughter still needs. I have only just begun my own therapy, as I wanted my children sorted first. It showed me that there are very little resources in the West, for the trauma women in my situation go through. I hope in the future, once my book is published, to start a charity to help women. It’s very hard to return to a society that you grew up in as a child but coming from a society that is the total opposite. Even though you look part of that society, you feel you no longer belong. It’s like being caught in 2 worlds. I hope one day to make contacts to start a charity for women with people who understand both cultures and can help women and their kids fit back into society.

What were the biggest challenges you faced?​

When I reached the west I was penniless, with 3 suitcases and my children. We were blessed to find a family lawyer whose services were pro bono, who advised us to change our identities and cut ties to our past lives. This was unbelievably hard to have to deny 21 years of your life, 21 years that shaped you as a person, 21 years of memories and friends.  I guess it was hardest on my son to lose his family name- it was like losing his father all over again.  Next was trying to become financially viable and find a home. I was still unable to sell my home back in Saudi, because of my husband’s family.  However I was blessed with a very close Saudi friend who I gave power of attorney and after a year won the rights to sell my home. The family took their financial share, denying my children their inheritance - funny because their claim to the courts was that they didn’t want us to sell the house as they wanted to protect the kid’s inheritance.

Are you working and doing better financially?

I am working, part time, all the experience I gained in Saudi was worth nothing in the west as the west puts more weight into certification, rather than physical experience. I had to begin back at the bottom and take an apprenticeship course with 18 year old students – but it got my foot in the door of employment. It has been hard the past 7 years trying to be a single mom on part time salary and trying to begin life again.  I certainly would advise any one in my circumstances back in Saudi to make sure they get certification for any work experience they have in Saudi.

What was the biggest surprise​/change to you about the outside world?

Most surprising to me has been how society is more about working to survive, and how closed minded many people are about other cultures. I am blessed that both my children were brought up in a society where your religion and race mean nothing. People couldn’t accept that even though I was British that I didn’t know how things worked.  They saw the same girl that left 21 years ago, but whilst I was physically the same, mentally I was a totally different person - and that’s been a hard barrier to overcome.

How is your social life?

My social life has been in fits and starts.  I was blessed to reconnect with old friends, but truthfully the past 7 years have been about rebuilding our lives, trying to repair the damage to my children and myself from the  trauma  of what happened with my husband’s family. I have found it hard to trust people as a few close friends back in Saudi informed my husband’s family of our planned escape, putting mine and my children’s lives in danger. I do prefer the social life I had in Saudi; it was more active and opened my eyes to the difference between cultures and religions. Socially it was more authentic in Saudi.

​Any exciting news you'd like to share?​

My daughter was accepted into University and is studying creative writing, taking after her mom. She aims to become a university lecturer once she graduates. She has already been published in a book of short stories and poetry.  It’s nice to see her grow.

I will become 50 in a few months and after 7 hard years struggling; I’m finally starting to achieve a sense of peace, through my therapy.

I have been working hard on publishing my book. I nearly was accepted by a publishing company to publish my book but the deal fell through, because of the actions of my then agent. I have chosen now to go independently, though it’s getting my story out there to the masses. I feel it’s a story that needs to be told, to help other women when making this giant leap into a world unknown. We are blessed now that the internet has opened doors for women to access information about Saudi Arabia, compared to when I went there back in 1990.  

But it’s still extremely hard to be a person of two cultures. We seriously need to help others escaping to settle back, but it’s finding  therapy and networking with others that have been through the  experience and trauma and help from people who understand  both cultures, we need to set up workshops  to help women and their children to integrate into society, to learn how to function in a totally different society. Most importantly to heal again and become a functioning well rounded family.

Is there anything you miss about Saudi Arabia?

I miss so much from Saudi.  It is my adopted home and it has been good to me and my children. Unfortunately there were numerous people (not the country) that caused my situation. Like every country in the world there is good and bad. Unfortunately however, in Saudi when the bad happens, women are left to fend alone and in many cases don’t succeed in reaching freedom with their children.

I miss the simple life.

I miss the authenticity of the people there, how expats joined together as extended families. How people always extended their hands to help others.

I miss Al Baik – lol.

I do still consider Saudi my home.

What do you think of all the changes going on here in KSA?

I’m sad I’m not part of the changes happening but feel an extreme sense of pride. When I first arrived in Saudi Arabia back in 1990, we were told that was the year women would drive.  21 years later still women weren’t granted that, but I’m proud the Prince has allowed women the freedoms that are their right.  It’s amazing to see the changes taking place for women, especially as they have been denied those rights for so long. Women are half the population and a society cannot function when only half its population is active.

I do fear however that Saudi will lose its identity.  I learnt moving back to the West that we have no culture, no identity - we all blend in as one.  Saudi is blessed that it still has its culture, its history, and it should hold onto those. It’s a new beginning for Saudi and I hope they handle the changes gradually.

I am hoping my Book – ‘Shifting Sands’ will open the door between East and West, to give women the tools to be prepared if the worse befalls them. Being married to a Saudi has many pitfalls but also many blessings. I feel communication between the two cultures would prevent a lot of situations arising.  But more importantly, I feel women need support and information, so they will never suffer as my children and I did. It’s a scar that will never full erase, so I hope from our trauma and experience it will help some other mother and her children to find freedom.

Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.

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You can follow Asima's blog about her memories of her life in Saudi Arabia called "Shifting Sands" by clicking HERE.

My Favorite Photo from 2015

I was challenged to choose my favorite photo from last year and write a blog post about it when I came across a website called Social Print Studio and saw some of their favorite photos from 2015.   Social Print Studio is a San Franscisco-based company that creates really cool metal prints and photo books.

I take well over a thousand photos each month - some months I take 3000-5000 photos if I have visited somewhere special - so picking a favorite wasn't an easy task at all.  But I like this epic photo that I chose as my favorite so much that it also graces my photo blog as its header.

My favorite photo from 2015 is one that my husband actually took of me with several young Saudi women at the huge IECHE Education Fair that was held in Saudi Arabia's capital city of Riyadh in April 2015.  This annual fair is attended by thousands of Saudi students and their parents who are searching for the right institution of higher education for their child's chosen field.  The CPVPV (Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, a.k.a. Saudi Arabia's religious police) even has a large booth at the event, trying to recruit new trainees.  The event is open to all and is free.  Hundreds of universities and technical schools from all over the world are represented, trying to attract students to their programs.  It is quite an impressive event.

Because of my ready smile, rosy complexion and light hair, I am frequently asked by total strangers here in Saudi Arabia to pose for photos with them.  These young ladies approached me at our booth and asked me if I would mind having my picture taken with them.  Of course I obliged!

Even though the quality of this photo could be a little better, what I love about this photo is that it dispels the notion that Saudi women are oppressed or unapproachable and it shows how really normal they are.

They just dress differently - that's all!

I love how you can actually see their eyes smiling even though you can't see their smiles underneath their veils.

I love that the one young woman is taking a selfie of us - such a typical and normal thing that most people do around the world now, yet it's something that outsiders may not ever imagine Saudi women would do because of the unfortunate misconceptions about them.

I love that these veiled women were as interested in me as I was in them.

I love that they all hugged me afterwards before they went on their way, leaving me with a warm fuzzy feeling that many people may never experience because their hearts and minds are not open to it.

I chose this photo because I love the feelings I get when I see it and how it gives me hope that one day we can all live together in peace and understanding and that we can accept and appreciate one another, differences and all.

Pink Ribbon Earns KSA Place in History

Women in Saudi Arabia made history last night, shattering the existing Guinness Book of World Records in the formation of the largest human pink ribbon chain emphasizing global awareness in the battle against breast cancer.

I don't know if the rest of the world actually realizes or appreciates what a seemingly impossible feat this really was to achieve in such a deeply cultured, strictly religious, and male-dominated society like Saudi Arabia where women are hidden behind black drapes when out in public. KSA has a reputation for being known as a place where women should not be seen or heard from, where women must have a legal male guardian all their lives, and where the rights of women are seen by the rest of the world as being limited, antiquated, and oppressed.


Logistically speaking, the odds were against us. Since females are prohibited from driving here in the "Magic Kingdom," what that means is that every single woman who participated in the event - except those who may have been close enough to walk to the site - was driven to the venue by a man.


Organizing and pulling off a stunt like this was a daunting task in a country where mass gatherings are discouraged and where men and women mingling together in public places is strictly forbidden. There were no men allowed inside the Ministry of Education Sports Stadium, which had never before been used to host an event for women. In fact I was told by an event organizer that the management of the stadium had initially refused to open the stadium for women. A call from higher powers quickly corrected that issue and the management was on board. Other male protesters in law enforcement and city government who voiced their objections were also quashed, and their objections turned into offers of assistance and support.


I also learned that the religious authorities were in a tizzy (no surprise here) over the fact that women would be gathering together like this en masse. However, at every turn the objectors were overruled. The event's organizers had gone through all the proper channels, followed protocol, received approvals and official documents from every required governmental agency, and had the full support of the government to proceed with this monumental occasion. In fact, if it weren't for the major clout backing this event, women in Saudi Arabia would likely have never been able to pull it off. The clout I'm speaking of responsible for the conception and implementation of this ground-breaking event was Princess Reema bint Bandar bin Sultan and the Zahra Breast Cancer Association of which she is a founding member.


I had the honor and privilege of meeting Princess Reema at the event last night and was taken aback when she thanked me for the post I had written announcing this event and told me she reads my blog! I awkwardly apologized for sometimes complaining about things here in KSA and lamely joked with her that there wasn't much else for me to do here. She was very gracious, charming and regal, while at the same time being so very normal and approachable - exactly the way I imagine a princess should be.

We arrived at the stadium shortly after 5pm, when the gates were opened. There was already quite a large crowd of women, with more and more arriving with every passing minute. Once inside the gate, there was a table where we had to obtain ticket stubs in order to then go to another table to get our pink hooded ponchos which were provided free of charge to all attendees. Because of the enormous crowd of women, this process took at least half an hour. There were also a variety of booths for sponsors, including Zahra Breast Cancer Association, Al Bidayah Breastfeeding Resource and Women's Awareness Center, and Avon. Free bottled water was also available.


For weeks beforehand, the old stadium was readied for the event. The bathrooms were renovated and the hole-in-the-ground toilets were replaced with regular seated toilets. I'm guessing that there are only men's toilets at the facility since women had historically never been allowed to attend any events held there before this because of this society's strict gender segregation policies. The grassy field was watered and tended to and was perfectly manicured. I can't recall ever seeing that much grass in one place here in Saudi Arabia since I've been here! The VIP section in the center was furnished with nice padded chairs for special guests (including me!), and there were beautiful large throne-like chairs where the princesses in attendance were seated.

The daytime temperature had reached an irritable and stifling 100F (37C) and the humidity was a muggy 70%. Needless to say, that stadium was packed with a lot of uncomfortable sweaty women who were anxious and excited to come together for a common cause despite the weather conditions. Every single woman had to be counted by the Guinness representative before she was allowed to do the Avon Walk for the Cure on the track around the grassy field, which had been carefully marked into the pattern shaped into the large breast cancer awareness ribbon. I was part of the first group of 100 to be counted and to begin the journey around the track. As we passed the grandstands where thousands of women were seated, waiting for their turns to be counted, the women began cheering and waving and singing the Saudi national anthem. Excitement was in the air - it was phenomenal and very uplifting.


Estimates were that there were about 6000 women total in attendance, however some were unable to stay the entire time due to transportation issues. The crowd was made up of not just Saudi women, but included expats from many countries around the world including the USA, England, Europe, and many Asian and African countries. I met young women from at least two local international schools who were tranported there by the busfuls. I also met women who had flown in from Riyadh just for this event and others who had driven from Mecca and Taif. Even in the sweltering heat and in the midst of only females, some of the women who came still felt compelled to wear their face veils because of all the cameras around.

There were also hundreds of volunteers who assisted in so many ways to make the event a success. It took well over an hour for the ribbon formation to take shape and be filled in. Those of us who were first on the field began to sit on the grass. We were already all hot, sticky, and sweaty anyway, so it wasn't like we were concerned about getting a little grass, insects, or dirt on us at that point! And actually sitting on the grass made me cool down a little bit. Slowly the sea of women dressed in pink ponchos united for a cause became the symbol for Breast Cancer Awareness. The exact official count has not yet been released by Guinness, however it is clear that Saudi Arabia exceeded the German record of 3640 participants set in 2007.


The heat, the humidity, the crowds, the pushing, the waiting, the standing, the discomfort, the sweating - was it all worth it? YES!!!

This was an historic achievement in so many ways for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I think it shows that Saudi Arabia wants to be an active and integral part of the modern global community. I also feel that it indicates that Saudi Arabia doesn't want to be perceived as that strange and oppressive country that many people around the world fear or criticize because it has always been such a mystery. I think this event also shows that the royal family and many people of Saudi Arabia want the country to progress and are not afraid of change if it's for the good of the country. I hope I'm right!

At any rate, I am proud to say that I was there; I was part of it.



Arab News article "Saudi Pink Ribbon Breaks Guinness Record."

Saudi Gazette article "Kingdom Breaks World Record."

Click here for the Guinness Website article and awesome photos about another breast cancer awareness record that was broken on October 1st.

Zain Commercial: Window of Hope

Zain is a well-known mobile phone company here in Saudi Arabia, even though they are a relatively new company here, launching their operations within the Kingdom in August of 2008. This is the second outstanding television commercial they have produced that I am sharing with you on my blog (here is the link to the first Zain commercial I previously posted).

Whatever firm Zain hired to produce these exceptional commercials for them was a brilliant and inspirational move on their part. The one-minute commercial below is a tribute to the people of Gaza. It shows the deplorable conditions they are forced to live in, the war-torn rubble their children must play in, and the resilience, strength, and hope the people of Gaza continue to have despite their circumstances. The accompanying music is a shortened version of the beautiful and haunting song "Wonderful Life." Seeing these poor smiling children amidst their depressing and devastated surroundings while singing "It's a wonderful, wonderful life" is very moving.


Zain has partnered with UNRWA (United Nations Relief & Works Agency) in this worthwhile fund-raising campaign to provide relief aid for Palestinian refugees. Zain customers can make contributions by simply texting a message. Taken from their website: "The campaign’s main highlight was a 'reality' TVC that was shot in Bourj el-Barajneh, Lebanon, capturing true life moments of Palestinians living in the area. By allowing the camera to transmit reality, and by using actual Palestinian refugees as cast, Zain is hoping to open the world’s eyes to the cruel conditions endured by the Palestinians, and to give the refugee population a better future."

To view more of Zain's wonderful television commercials, here is the link to their website page listing them.

A New Chapter

The oppressive heat of Jeddah’s concrete jungle is something I did not miss this past summer during my trip to the states. I spent the whole time in the cool and invigorating Pacific Northwest, surrounded by tall evergreens, wild deer and raccoon, and the beautiful waters of the Puget Sound.

I busied myself with physical activities and chores, many of them performed outdoors – activities I am not accustomed to doing in Saudi Arabia because of the suffocating soaring temperatures and because women here just don’t do outside work.

But my main goal this summer though was to get Adam/Captain Kabob settled in to my brother’s home nestled in the forest - he would be staying on to finish his last two years of high school there with them. Several of my friends’ children here in Saudi Arabia have been sent out of the country for high school to boarding schools in Europe or sent to live with family elsewhere around the world, so it’s not that uncommon for “half and half children” to do this. As much as the International Schools here in KSA try to make the high school experience mimic that of back home, for us the issues of transportation, living arrangements, family expectations, and cultural pressures always seemed to impede Adam’s ability to fully immerse himself into the typical Western high school experience here.

Since our move to KSA in the fall of 2007, my husband’s strict parenting style had tightened even more, and I often found myself stuck in the middle of an ongoing battleground between a hard-headed father and his stubborn son. Trying to magically turn a 14-year-old American boy into a typical Saudi teenager was just not possible in Captain Kabob's case, and it took my husband three years to be convinced of that. Before we moved here, my son and I had never set foot in Saudi Arabia, so all Adam had ever known was of his life in the United States. I thought the move would be a great opportunity to expose him to his father’s heritage, language, family, and culture – and it was.

But the reality of the stark differences in our new lives here proved too much for a teenage American boy to handle. Now I’m not saying that life in the US is better than life here in KSA – it boils down to a matter of familiarity. I’m often surprised at the number of people who ask me which is better: life in KSA or life in the US? There are good and not-so-good things about both, but it’s like comparing apples and oranges. It’s really what you are used to that seems to become your preference. In some ways life is easier here in KSA, and in other ways, it is much more difficult - especially for Western women who are not used to the restrictions placed on women here - and also for free-spirited teenagers who are anxious to spread their wings.

The truth is that I was actually scared stiff for Captain Kabob – he was depressed and would often tell me how he hated his life here in KSA. I was afraid that he would make some stupid misguided decision here in this unforgiving place, as hot-headed foolish teenage boys often do worldwide, that might affect him the rest of his life. What we see as normal socializing in the West is considered a "crime" here in this strict Islamic society. Being alone in the company of someone of the opposite sex who is not related to you is a punishable offense here in Saudi Arabia. And contrary to what one might think - considering the stiff penalties for drug and alcohol possession in this country - these temptations are readily available here. As much as I constantly reminded Adam of the dangers, pitfalls, and consequences of these types of things, I still worried constantly that he might make that one stupid decision that could cost him his future. And my concerns only intensified after Captain Kabob was mugged and physically and emotionally hurt in an incident that happened when he foolishly got into a vehicle he mistook for a cab.

So as soon as my husband came to the realization shortly after his heart surgery back in March that it would be better for his own health if he and Adam weren’t living under the same roof, I made plans for Captain Kabob to leave here. My wonderful family has welcomed him with loving arms and he is now attending high school in Washington State. Every chance he gets, he tells me that he now loves his life.

Adam is happy once again, and that is all that really matters. He got his learners permit to drive and took a driver’s ed course this summer with his cousin. There was no way I wanted him driving in Jeddah, where there are no rules, pure testosterone on the road, and every time we get into the car, I feel our lives are at risk. I’m happy to report that he is extremely cautious when behind the wheel and takes driving very seriously. He is making new friends and keeping in touch with his old friends in Saudi Arabia and in Florida. He’s gone to the movies and attended a couple of concerts, things he wasn’t able to do here in KSA because there are none. And I was actually pleasantly surprised the other day when Captain Kabob told me that he missed Saudi Arabia a bit - but that's likely that he just misses me and his dad and his friends.

With Skype, Facebook, and my handy MagicJack, I’m finding that staying in close contact with Adam is easy. He is growing up and spreading his wings. At this point, because of all he’s been through these past three years, I think his maturity level exceeds that of most of his peers. That shy pubescent boy who first set foot in Saudi Arabia as an awkward teen has blossomed into a confident, responsible, and level-headed young man who is perfectly capable of making good choices. I know it's natural for parents to always worry about their kids and I know I always will, but it is a relief not to feel that added dread that my son might have made a reckless misstep here in ultra-conservative Saudi Arabia. Adam became a man here in Saudi Arabia, and I know that the experience will shape his life in many good ways in the years to come.

So, it is a new chapter in our lives for both Captain Kabob and me. Only time will tell if the actual distance between us now and the increased loneliness will prove too much for me, but so far I am coping well, as my husband and I readjust to life as empty-nesters. Then again, I’ve just been back here in the "Magic Kingdom" for two weeks, and I’m taking it one day at a time.

To read more about Captain Kabob, please read an interview he gave to my friend Carol on her blog, American Bedu, that was published in October of 2009.

Carol's Cats

I have written before about my friend and fellow blogger Carol, known as American Bedu. She and her Saudi husband were both diagnosed with cancer and traveled to the USA to receive medical treatment. Carol's beloved husband Abdullah lost his fight with leukemia in February 2010. Carol continues to remain in the states and is still aggressively battling breast cancer.

Carol's blog, American Bedu, is one of the most widely read and helpful sources of information about Saudi Arabia that there is. She is a former US diplomat who has lived and traveled around the world. She has faithfully and tirelessly continued posting during her health crisis and has faced this challenge with grace and dignity.

I know I don't have to tell you how expensive health care is in the USA. Her insurance through her husband's policy was abruptly ended shortly after his death. So on top of her fight for her life, Carol is also facing financial difficulties.

She is a cat lover and terribly misses her two cats, which she was forced to leave behind in Saudi Arabia. Carol is now trying to bring her beloved cats to North Carolina. Can you help by making a donation to help her reach her modest goal? If you can, you will be helping to bring back some much needed comfort and familiarity into the life of my friend whose life has been turned upside down these last few years by the tragedy of illness and the loss of her dear husband.

Please click here to read more about Carol and learn how you can easily make a PayPal donation for her cause.

UPDATE: The goal has been reached and Carol will be reunited with her cats soon!

Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Acouple of weeks ago, one of the religious leaders here in Saudi Arabia declared a fatwa (a religious ruling) which demands the death penalty for people in the Kingdom who condone or promote gender mixing within the country. In particular, Sheikh Abdul-Rahman al-Barrak, 77, denounced men and women working together because it would encourage "sight of what is forbidden, and forbidden talk between men and women." With the opening last fall of KAUST (the innovative King Abdullah University of Sciences and Technology), where the progressive King's vision came to fruition in a place where highly educated men and women work and attend classes together, it appears as though this Sheikh is taking aim at the King himself. Not a very smart thing to do. Especially in view of the fact that last October the King took the action of promptly firing a top Islamic cleric after he spouted off against the mixing of the sexes at KAUST.

The Sheikh's website, albarrak.islamlight.net, has been blocked from viewing now within the country. But allegedly, using modern technology to his advantage, he merely opened up under another website.

There has been a backlash of objections from many people here who want to see progress and change in this ultra-conservative religious country, with fellow blogger Ahmed al-Omran of SaudiJeans calling the Sheikh a "caveman" and Saudi female blogger Eman al-Nafjan of SaudiWoman condemning Al-Barrak as "the last living member of the traditional, misogynist eighties rat pack of sheikhdom" and aptly branding his type of barbaric thinking as "Gender Apartheid."


However, about thirty other conservative clerics rushed to Al-Barrak's defense by signing a petition upholding their support of his ruling in favor of strict gender segregation.

The greatest fear among these religious scholars is that mixing of the sexes socially here in Saudi Arabia, in the work force, or in education will result in rampant fornication and other immoral behavior. Here are a couple of more quotes from Al-Barrak taken from this Reuters article: "Whoever allows this mixing ... allows forbidden things, and whoever allows them is an infidel, and this means defection from Islam ... Either he retracts or he must be killed ... because he disavows and does not observe the Sharia ... Anyone who accepts that his daughter, sister or wife works with men or attends mixed-gender schooling cares little about his honour, and this is a type of pimping."    Really? This guy is actually calling Saudi men who allow their female relatives to work or attend school side by side with other unrelated men PIMPS!!!

For those of you who read my blog regularly, you know that one of the things that I really dislike about living here is the gender segregation. Going to a family function, or a wedding, or some other kind of party where there are only women allowed or where I am separated from my husband and my son upon arrival is not my idea of fun. It's okay once in a while, but time after time after time, it gets really old for me. I admit it - I enjoy being in the company of BOTH men and women! And the fact that people here cannot be trusted on their own to conduct themselves with the utmost of decorum and virtue - despite all the morality that is drilled into them from birth - so much so that there is a need for religious police to enforce strict moral codes and punish those who do not adhere to the rules - is just beyond my comprehension.

Muslims in other parts of the world seem to successfully incorporate living and working amongst the opposite sex without much trouble or fanfare. Why can't it be that simple here in Saudi Arabia? It's more than just religion at play here - it is deeply engrained in the culture, and there is a long way to go to bring this country into the 21st century with regard to its social limitations on both men and women (but mostly on women). The people here have been brainwashed by so many lop-sided images about the decadent and immoral West that there is a mentality of great fear for change or opening up this society to more freedom. My take on the whole situation is that the social restrictions placed on the people here are extremely insulting to the Saudis and make the assumption that the Saudi people simply cannot control their animalistic urges and conduct themselves accordingly. The Saudi people are better than that. All they need is a chance to prove it.

Western Wife, Saudi Husband

As a result of my last post “Dear Susie…” another Western woman married to a Saudi has given me permission to share her recent emails to me with you. I found it distressing to know that after close to two decades in the Kingdom, she is still not happy living in KSA, and yet at the same time I found it comforting to know that I am not alone in feeling this way. Here is what she has to say…

Iwas so naive when I made the decision to follow my husband here. I had no idea of how life would be for me as a woman, how dependent I would be on my husband, how I wouldn't be able to leave the country without my husband's permission, etc., etc. And my husband did not volunteer any information either. I think he knew I would be hesitant to move to Saudi if I knew too much. My parents have always let me make my own decisions, and I appreciate their trust and confidence in me. But boy oh boy, do I wish they had put up more of a stink with regard to me going off to Saudi Arabia. Back in 1993, there wasn't a lot of info out there about foreign women married to Saudis. I wished I had had access to all that is available now. My eldest daughter has asked me on more than one occasion, "How could you move to a country you knew nothing about?" I tell her it was because I was young, fearless and looking for an adventure. I believe my faith is what has pulled me through all of these years, and perhaps, I'm a lot stronger than I give myself credit for.

I came here, too, with the bare minimum. I gave up so much, and I put my all into building a life here. But the small things that have bothered me over the years have built up into a mountain; and I'm feeling smothered and simply worn out. I'm just taking it one day at a time. Life here isn't intolerable (most days), but I'm itching to find out if there is a possibility it could be better elsewhere.

I may feel happier if my husband would take the children’s and my security a lot more seriously should something happen to him. We don't even own our own home! I do not have Saudi citizenship; but we have filed all the necessary paperwork and my file is pending in Riyadh. I will never leave KSA without having that first. I, too, think I would be happier if we had a driver. But my husband does not want to get one, which is kind of funny because he is absolutely miserable taking us everywhere we need to go. I want to help out, but I can't. I'm tired of having to schedule my outings around his mood or his schedule. Things got a little better when our eldest son got his license, but he's away at college now; and our second son, who can drive, will be leaving at the end of the school year for college as well. I just want to do some things for myself. I'm tired of feeling like a child.

My husband has no interest in living elsewhere. It wouldn't be practical anyway. He can be a much better breadwinner for the family here in his own country than anywhere else. He has no desire to even visit the US anymore. The last time he was there was more than 10 years ago. He does not write, call, email, or do anything to keep in touch with my family which, needless to say, isn't sitting right with me. They are so good to him. My father sends him a birthday package every year, and my husband doesn't even thank him via phone or email. I don't know if he thinks he doesn't have to keep in touch because they aren't Muslim; but I know that their lives just aren't that important to him.

I've tried working (teaching English), but I just didn't like it that much. Besides, juggling a job and family responsibilities was a bit stressful for me. I don't have a maid because that's another thing that my husband doesn't feel is necessary. As long as I'm not working, I don't mind.

Like you, I think spending more time with my family in the States would make me happier. The norm for me has been a trip home in the summer every other year. My husband says he can't afford it more often. We are a one-income family, and I understand. The total time I've spent with my family over the past 17 years comes to 18 months - yes, 1.5 years out of 17. That's not much is it? I've missed out on so much over the years. I'm not even very close to my niece and nephews because of the distance. I thought I would get less homesick the longer I was away, but the total opposite has happened. I went home this past summer, and it was the best visit ever. I reconnected with long-lost high school friends, traveled out West with my parents, visited relation, and just felt so refreshed and alive while there. Every time I step on a plane heading out of Saudi Arabia, I have passive thoughts of not returning; but I always do. And when I get back, it never fails . . . I always feel down. I eventually get over it; but this last time it took a while.

There are a lot of things going on with me. I'm literally caught in between a rock and a hard place. I'm not going to make a rash decision about my future. I'm taking my time . . . trying to think things through carefully. I am definitely going through a midlife crisis. In early 2009, I had a stark awakening. I decided that I deserve to be happy and fulfilled after 21 years of marriage. I have repressed my needs and wants for so long, that they have come out in a fury of rage and anger. My husband is shocked. He's worried he's going to lose me. I just want to climb up on one of the mountains around here and yell out: WHAT ABOUT ME?

All I want to do is think about myself for a change; and because of that everyone thinks I'm being mean and ungrateful. Ahhh, the word "ungrateful" . . . women are so ungrateful, aren't they? I've been told that most of the inhabitants of the hell fire will be women because they are ungrateful to their husbands. But where do you draw the line between being ungrateful and just finally getting fed up with being taken advantage of? When a woman is too complacent, she gets walked all over and her sacrifices are never appreciated. I do not feel like I've achieved much over the past 17 years; and I'm very disappointed in my husband's level of success, especially career-wise. I'm full of anger . . . I'm angry at myself, my husband, my in-laws, the children, my Creator, and especially the Saudi society.

I'm angry at the Saudi society for not providing me opportunities to further my education or work in my field of specialty, for not allowing me to drive, for making me severely dependent on my husband, for making me lose my self-confidence, for placing such high expectations upon me that I now deal with severe anxiety. Do I have the right to blame anyone but myself for my unhappiness? Why can't I just make peace with what Allah has bestowed upon me? My older kids always tell me: "Mom, you just have to make peace with the way things are." Is it because I feel like I've been used and taken advantage of for so long that I don't know what to believe? I truly feel my humble and complacent personality has led me to where I am at the moment. If I had stood up for my needs and wants over the years perhaps my current situation would be better.

So, what I'm getting at is . . . If I'm so unhappy, shouldn't I remove and/or distance myself from the things I feel are making me unhappy? Why do I feel so guilty for wanting to pack up and leave . . . for wanting to try and see if I could find happiness once again? All I know is that I need to resolve the above-issues soon or I'm never going to feel good about myself or others.

I ask myself, "What would I do if I left?" And I can't answer the question. I feel like I'm not capable of finding a job, finding new love, or continuing my education. I have a total lack of self-esteem. It's so frustrating to want to try to start over again but at the same time you don't have the confidence. I blame my husband for my current state because he has not been able to fulfill my needs nor convince me that life in Saudi Arabia is the best for me. Somewhere, somehow . . . I've lost track of how to do and experience the things that make me happy. I know I need to work on my own happiness because if I could be happy and have more self-respect perhaps my marriage would be stronger. I do want to create the happy-go-lucky, light hearted version of myself that my husband first fell in love with.

I've put little thought into what I want out of life and more thought into taking care of others. I've spent most of my days taking care of the children, cooking, cleaning and putting the needs of my family before me. I have no outside interests, no career and nothing to fulfill dreams I have. I also feel guilty for wanting to leave this place, as many Muslims would die for the opportunity to live here. I've been told that I have to be thankful and that living in Saudi Arabia is a blessing no matter how difficult it may be. So I'm torn. It just seems so complicated, especially with children in the picture. We have five, ranging from 20 down to 6.

I just can't believe I'm talking about leaving. I never thought it would come to this. For the longest time, I hid my discontentment from our children, but they know now. I would feel incredible guilt for leaving, but it may be the best for all concerned because my unhappiness is just making everyone else miserable. My family back home doesn't know how unhappy I am. I've sugar-coated everything, and they believe I'm content with life here. Maybe I shouldn't have done that, but I don't want them to worry. I think that if I were to approach them about my desire to come home, they would be supportive of me until I could get my feet on the ground.

I have made some small changes over the past year. They may not seem significant to others; but they are making me feel a little better. One, I started taking care of myself better. I joined a gym and started exercising. I've continued to exercise and watch my diet; and I've lost 17 pounds over the past year. It's really lifted my spirits. I've also stopped running around like a chicken with its head cut off, thinking that I have to have everything perfect for my husband and children and that I have to be at their beck and call. I do things when I feel like doing them, how I like doing them, and I have accepted that it won't be the end of the world if they don't get done. When the kids are off to school and DH is at work, I use my mornings however I please. I've just recently started reading novels again and writing poetry. I have a few good friends that I try to see more often.

My new year’s resolution is to find peace of mind. I pray that all of the women in our situation will find happiness and peace of mind.

Can You Help?

I 've become friends with a fellow blogger - an American woman who has lived in the Middle East for over two decades - who needs financial help right now. She goes by the name of Cool Red and I have been fortunate to be a fan of her blog for a couple of years now. Her words have made me cry at times, and other times she has had me rolling on the floor laughing. She's an excellent writer and she has had plenty of material in her life's experiences.


Cool Red's life has not been easy in the Middle East. She is now divorced from her abusive husband. Consequently she has really struggled financially to make ends meet. Now she and her children want to move back to America. Back to her home, to be reunited with her family. Two of her kids are already in America. Three are with her here in the Gulf. She needs money to purchase four airline tickets. Can you help with a donation? If enough people would just show her a little compassion and generosity during this holy month of Ramadan, we could help make this happen.

Please, if there is any way you can make a contribution, please do! You can read Cool Red's post "It's Over People...The Fat Lady Has Sung" to learn more about her plight. And she has an easy PayPal link on the top right of her blog - all you have to do is click on where it says DONATE.

Thank you for your help!

UPDATE: 3SEP09 - Cool Red has been experiencing some problems with ehr blog, but it is up and running again. She is almost to her goal!!! Just a few more contributions and she'll be on her way home.

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.

Still She Smiles

We first saw her at Burger King. She was sitting alone at a table in the family section, with no family in sight. We sat down at the table right next to her. We smiled at each other and she chomped a tiny mouthful of her giant Whopper sandwich which was almost too big for her to hold, much less bite. We watched her as she nonchalantly sat there, flirting with us with her twinkling chocolate brown eyes. But no family member ever came to be with her or to fetch her. And she didn't appear scared or concerned at all. She actually seemed quite confident and at ease. When the service manager from behind the counter brought our order to the table, he walked by the little girl and said something kind to her in Arabic which made her smile yet again. As he put our food down on the table, he told us that she was his most loyal and regular customer. She always comes to the restaurant. She comes to eat there every single day, he told us. Another random customer will usually buy her a sandwich, and then the manager himself throws in the fries and a drink for her.

Her name is Sahba, which in Arabic means "friend." She is six years old and cute as a button. Sahba is a refugee from Afghanistan. Like most six-year-olds, she has an eager and ready smile, missing a tooth or two. But unlike most other kids her age, she works every day to help support her family. Next to her on the table were four cartons of mint gum. Each carton has twenty packs of gum in it. She sells a carton for 10 riyals ($2.50 US). She told my husband that she works until about midnight and then she walks for an hour or so to meet up with her parents to go home. Did you get that? AT MIDNIGHT SHE STOPS SELLING GUM AND WALKS BY HERSELF FOR AN HOUR TO GO HOME, AND SHE IS ONLY SIX YEARS OLD. She does this every day. The district she told us she lives in is several miles away from the Burger King we were at, in this busy city of about four million people. There is no school for this little girl. There is no playtime. There may be no dolls or other toys waiting for her at her "home." Selling gum is her life for now. Yet she smiles.

Sahba finished her burger and my husband called her over to our table. He teased her, jokingly bargaining with her over the price of a carton of her gum. And she gave it right back to him, with a smile. She seemingly has the savvy of an experienced business woman. She had more maturity than any six-year-old I have ever seen. At her tender age, she already possessed street smarts. Sahba happily obliged when I asked to take her picture and posed for me, flashing her heart-melting smile. She was so pleased when I showed her the images of her sweet little face on the screen of the camera. Another big smile. She wore an open abaya over an ill-fitting shiny purple dress. I noticed that one of her cheeks had a little cut on it and her arms had several little cuts as well. She picked up the remaining three cartons of gum, said goodbye to us, and walked out the restaurant door into the night.

My son Adam and I looked at each other. Clearly Sahba had touched our hearts. At the same time we both blurted out, “I wish we could take her home with us!” But she is not a stray cat or an abandoned puppy. She is not an orphan. She is a little six year old girl who helps to support her displaced family. We couldn’t stop talking or thinking about her as we finished our meal. Several minutes later the restaurant door opened, and there she was again. She approached our table and boldly used one of the oldest pick-up lines in the book on my infatuated husband. In Arabic she asked, “Would you like to buy me a drink?” Hubby smiled at her and I noticed that his eyes even teared up a little bit. He got up and gently put his hand on the back of her shoulder to guide her as they walked up to the counter together where he bought her a drink. It was undeniable that she was a favorite of the grinning Burger King employees, who all seemed to stop what they were doing to look over fondly at the sight of precious little Sahba, beaming as though they were all her doting uncles. Hubby asked the little child if she wanted some dessert too, but she politely declined. His reward was her pretty little gapped tooth smile.

And then she was gone again. We got into our car and as we were driving away, we saw her on the sidewalk at the edge of the busy plaza holding her cartons of gum, looking for a sale. I wondered how she managed to keep smiling and spreading her sunshine every day like she did, and I knew then that I wouldn't ever be able to forget about this charming little girl. I realized that she still had three more hours left to work, when most kids her age were already tucked into bed for the night. And to think, she’s just six years old… and still she smiles.