Princess Sultana's Circle

have always drawn my life as I wished to see it,
Sara. But, now, I know that I have lived a useless life. Mother has
told me so.”
    Sara studied my face
carefully, then said, “Your life has not been useless, Sultana. You
have protected your children. You have made Kareem a happy man.
And, you have undergone great personal danger to alert the world to
our women’s plight.”
    “ Not enough…not enough…” I
muttered tearfully. “Mother keeps telling me that I should do
more.”
    Sara sat without speaking
for a long time. At length, after long moments of quiet reflection,
she said, “Sultana, few of us do enough. I finally know that,
now.”
    I looked with new interest
at Sara. Had she been dreaming of Mother, too?
    “ What do you mean?” I
asked.
    Sara sighed deeply, before
retrieving a much-folded piece of paper from the pocket of the
jacket she was wearing over her dress.
    Her words were slow and
soft, “It is so easy to be a coward in Saudi Arabia. There is so
much to lose.”
    Sara looked so empty and
sad. Whatever was she speaking about?
    “ Sultana, I now realize
that I should have moved the very earth to help Munira. Together,
with our other sisters, we could have succeeded in helping that
poor girl to escape to another country.”
    I gasped. Had something
happened to Munira? Was she dead?
    Sara handed me the paper in
her hands. “I just found this last evening.” Sara’s voice lowered,
“I am broken-hearted with remorse.”
    I opened up the paper and
saw that small, precise handwriting filled the page.
    Sara explained, “Some weeks
ago, I lent Munira one of my books. The day Munira returned the
book, I was packing for this trip. Thinking that I might reread
this book while on this trip, I packed it with my luggage. I could
not sleep last night, so I opened the pages of the book, and this
is what I discovered.”
    Sara’s eyes were red, and
wet with tears.
    She flicked her finger on
the page, “Read what Munira has to say, Sultana.”
    Convinced that I was about
to read a suicide note, my hands began to shake so much that I
could barely focus my eyes on the moving page.
    Sara helped me to hold the
page firm.
    What Munira had written was
a poem.
     
    Buried Alive
    I have lived and known what it is to smile
    I have lived the life of a young girl with hopeful
promise
    I have lived the life of a young girl who felt the warmth of
womanhood
    I have lived the feeling of longing for the love of a good
man
    I have lived the life of a women whose promise was cut
short
    I have lived the life of one whose dreams were
dashed
    I have lived knowing tremendous fear for every man
    I have lived through the fears raised by the specter of an
evil coupling
    I have lived to see the devil in the guise of a man, ruling my
every action
    I have lived as a beggar to this man, pleading with him to
leave me alone
    I have lived to witness my husband have the pleasure of being
a man
    I have lived to be ravished by the man to whom I was
given
    I have lived only to endure nightly rapes
    I have lived to be buried while still alive
    I have lived to wonder why those who claim to love me, helped
to bury me
    I have lived through all of these things, and I am not yet
twenty-five years old
     
    We were both speechless
with unbearable pain; my sister and I could only stare at the
other.
    Without saying a single
word to Sara, I knew that no matter the consequences, I must now do
more to bring change to the lives of women, who, like Munira, were
in danger of being buried before they were dead.
    I returned with my sister
to the camp, knowing that my life was now forever changed. There
was no turning back.
     

Chapter
Eighteen
    “ Sultana’s
Circle”
    I once read that for every
gift that Allah grants His children, He also attaches an equal
challenge. I believe this to be true, for I have never heard about,
or even read about, a single human life that encompasses only
perfection and happiness. Certainly my own character is riddled
with imperfections, and because of these flaws, I have faced many
sorrows in my own life.
    Although I have been the
beneficiary of numerous blessings, I have also been presented with
many obstacles. In choosing my parents, God linked a cruel father
with a loving mother. He gave me wonderful years with my Mother,
and then took her from me when I was still of a tender age. He
granted me the lofty status of Princess in a royal Kingdom, yet
that elevated status would be of little value in a land
traditionally