Girls of Riyadh: article and extract

Driven to attraction

By Roula Khalaf

Financial Times April 14 2006

I will write about my friends,
the story of each of them,
I see in it, I see myself,
a tragedy like my own tragedy,
I will write about my friends,
about the prison that sucks the years of the prisoners,
about the time devoured by the columns of magazines,
about doors that don’t open,
about desires slaughtered at birth,
about the huge prison cell,
and about its black walls,
and about the thousands of female martyrs,
buried without names,
in the cemetery of tradition.

From a poem by Nizar Kabbani, cited in The Girls of Riyadh

It is possible for most adolescents in the world not only to think, dream or anguish about their first date but also to have one, probably followed by a second, maybe a few more. In Saudi Arabia you can do the dreaming and worrying, but you may very well end up with no more than one date, especially if you are a girl, and you are likely to have little more than a walk-on part in it.
Marriages are for the most part arranged, and it is not unusual for a couple to meet for the first time after their parents agree to the union. So much in Saudi social life seems to be built around the idea that girls and boys should not meet, even to prepare themselves for marriage. There are no cinemas or concerts or parties to go to. Single young men, thought to be disruptive, aren’t allowed to go to the mall on Thursday, “family night”, the busiest night of the week, and they must eat in separate sections at restaurants. So they sit in their cars outside, blocking traffic. The Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, religious policemen who wear long beards and refuse to look at a woman’s face, keep an eye on them and intervene if the mall’s security guards let them slip in. The young men sit and wait for a glimpse of a woman entering or leaving. They are unlikely to see any more than her eyes, the rest of her shape and form dispossessed, hidden beneath a robe. If they get so much as a look, one of the men may write his phone number on a piece of paper and throw it out the window, hoping she will have the courage to pick it up. Some stick their phone numbers on their car windshields in the hope of getting a call.
Determination and technology, however, have made life a little easier for young Saudis. Satellite television bombards them with images of the way other people live. Mobile telephones and internet chat rooms have made it less painful to get to know each other, once families have signed off on wedding plans. A common way to flirt is to turn on the wireless bluetooth facility on your mobile phone, allowing messages to be sent to other bluetooth-enabled phones within reach, even when the number is not known.
Into this clash of centuries comes a novel that captures it all. Written as a series of e-mails, The Girls of Riyadh records the trials and tribulations of four high-society city girls. They wear expensive designer clothes, sprinkle their speech with American jargon, make references to Sex and the City, and sometimes drink champagne. But under it all they continue to live in their Saudi world, smothered by the severe interpretation of Islam that prevails, where their most natural feelings are denied expression. Though the lifestyles of Sadeem, Gamrah, Mashael (nicknamed Michelle) and Lamees are more elite and far more liberal than many other Saudis, their experience is the experience of Saudi youth.
The Girls of Riyadh is written by Rajaa al-Sanie, a 25-year-old dental student who comes from a family of professionals, has lived most of her life in Riyadh and attended King Saud University. A kind of Arab Bridget Jones’s Diary, the novel is popular across the Arab world and a bestseller at book fairs all over the Middle East. Published in Beirut last September, it was officially banned from distribution in Saudi Arabia until last month, a prohibition that created even more excitement. In Saudi Arabia itself, tens of thousands of copies have been circulating - from the internet or the black market. It is being read by men as much as women, its impact has been debated in newspapers and on television, and Rajaa has become a celebrity.
In an exchange of e-mails with me, Rajaa insists that The Girls of Riyadh is not based on her own life or that of her friends, but rather on stories that she’s heard. “I hate to disappoint you, but I have not found true love,” she says. She started writing it six years ago as a hobby, and she plans to write more novels as she continues her postgraduate dental studies in the US.
In the book, three of the girls have relationships that go badly wrong, frustrated by conservative families and conservative men. The girls meet (sometimes bringing a boyfriend) in the house of Um Nuwayyer, a friendly neighbour who shares their secrets and advises them. Um Nuwayyer’s son is gay. Her husband left her to live with his second wife, after beating up his son. Homosexuality is only one of the taboos the author confronts in her book. Another is the hostility that even the least conservative of Sunni Wahabi society feels towards the minority Shia Muslims. Lamees refuses to heed her sister’s advice and becomes friendly with Ali, a Shia. But the affair ends when the religious police find them together in a cafe. “Poor Ali. He was a nice guy and, frankly, if he weren’t a Shia, she would have loved him,” says the narrator, who is portrayed as a friend of the four girls.
Perhaps more shocking, is that Rajaa dares to show that Saudi girls are keen to meet boys, despite the oppressive social barriers. “At the entrance to the mall, the girls followed a group of boys, who stood hesitant before the security guards. The defeated boys dispersed, except one, who walked towards Michelle. It seemed to him that she and Lamees were brave girls looking for adventure. He asked if he could go in with them as a member of the family in exchange for 1,000 riyals. Michelle was shocked by his defiance but quickly agreed.”
Funny and tragic, silly and serious, the book is written in a mix of colloquial and classical Arabic. Some readers have dismissed it as cheap melodrama. Others say it is a revealing study of one of the world’s most secretive societies.

Rajaa did not intend it to be a social or political message. “I hate it when people think I was trying to deliver a message. In the Arab world, most writings are tarnished with motives or political messages that turn them into propaganda and I hate for my book to be categorised as such. I leave it to the reader to come to his own conclusions.” Maybe so. But many Saudis saw in the book a passionate cry for an end to religious interference in people’s lives. “The book also exposed society,” a Saudi man and fan of Rajaa told me. “It says you can’t stop people from loving, that telephones and the internet have facilitated this, that parents might leave girls at the doors of university but they might get picked up by boys.”
Rajaa says she did not expect her book, which will be published in English later this year, to cause such a furious reaction. Yet she starts every chapter with a fictionalised account of the responses to her weekly mail, some conveying gentle praise, others spitting outrage. But as Abdelaziz al-Qassim, a young reformist expert in Sharia law, tells me, the most surprising thing about the book is that it provoked a debate, instead of a vicious religious backlash. True, Rajaa was vilified by conservatives writing in internet chat rooms but there was no official condemnation of her work. “She put the behaviour of the girls of Riyadh on the table - and it just went by,” says al-Qassim. “Four years ago there would have been a huge scandal and she could have been sent to jail.”
In some way The Girls of Riyadh reflects the changing times. It is part of the struggle between the religious forces that have taken Saudi Arabia into cultural xenophobia, and the more liberal voices who have wanted to liberate society in recent years. Until the attacks of September 11 2001, the al-Saud royal family had given clerics virtually a free hand in controlling Saudi society, while its own members went about governing the kingdom and living their own, often ostentatious lives. But having discovered that this policy had created young fanatics, the government has been trying, slowly and sometimes grudgingly, to curtail the powers of the clergy.
The succession in August last year of King Abdullah who, even at 82, seems to want more relaxed social rules, has reinforced this trend. His labour minister and close adviser Ghazi al-Gosaibi, himself a poet with several books banned in Saudi Arabia, endorsed Rajaa’s book with a comment printed on the back cover: “This book deserves to be read - I expect a lot from this novelist.” Islamists were furious that a figure so close to the king could hold such views. One prominent activist, Mohsen al-Awaji, used al-Gosaibi’s support for the book as part of a scathing attack on the minister in an article published on the internet. Al-Awaji was harshly punished and briefly thrown in jail, an over-reaction it is difficult not to feel disappointed by.
The government is steering social relaxation -it wants to sponsor more cultural events, and more books are now allowed in, including some that discuss religious beliefs other than Wahabism. But cinemas and concerts are still banned and if you’re a woman you still aren’t allowed to drive a car (which means that if you’ve got one, you have to be alone in it with a man, usually a foreigner, called your driver).
Even if Rajaa insists it is not her intention to change all that, she can claim to have made a small contribution to young Saudis’ war of liberation. “Everyone is amazed that I dare to write this, and blames me for breaking taboos that we are not used to discussing in our society with such frankness,” writes the narrator in The Girls of Riyadh. “But doesn’t everything have a beginning? I may find a few believers in my cause today and I may not, but I doubt that I will find many opponents half a century from now.”


Extract from the novel:

The Girls of Riyadh

By Rajaa al-Sanie

The man thinks he has reached his goal when the woman surrenders to him, while the woman thinks she will never reach her goal unless the man appreciates what she has given him.
Honore de Balzac

Sadeem’s legs could barely carry her as she nervously entered the living room with her father where Waleed Al-Shary was waiting. She refrained from extending her arm to him to shake hands, remembering that Gamrah’s mother had warned her not ever to shake Rashid’s hand when he came to see her during the elro’yah elshariya. Waleed stood up respectfully to greet them, then sat down again after she and her father were seated. Her father then started asking him questions that seemed random to her and which she found difficult to concentrate on. After a few minutes, her father left the room, allowing Sadeem and Waleed to talk freely and get to know each other.
Sadeem noticed Waleed’s interest in her appearance from the way he looked at her the minute she walked in. Although she hadn’t raised her head for long, she had seen him looking at her body and it made her so self-conscious she had almost stumbled. Little by little, and with Waleed’s help, Sadeem managed to overcome her nervousness and shyness.
He asked her about her studies at college, her plans for the future, her hobbies.
He asked: “What about you? Don’t you want to tell me anything? Or ask me something?”
After thinking a while, she replied: “I want to tell you that I wear glasses.” He laughed, and she laughed along with him.
Then he tried to provoke her: “By the way, Sadeem, my job demands a lot of travelling abroad.” Sadeem raised an eyebrow, as if challenged, and then answered: “That’s not a problem. I love to travel!”
He admired her wit and cheeky answers, and she bowed her head after her face blushed fiercely. She felt she would have to learn to control her tongue or else the groom would run away! She was saved by the return of her father a few minutes later which gave her the opportunity to excuse herself and leave. She gave Waleed a big smile on her way out; he returned it with an even bigger one. She left the room with a heart full of butterflies.
She thought Waleed was a very handsome man, although he wasn’t her favourite type. She preferred tanned skin; Waleed’s complexion was fair with a pinkish hue. His light moustache with the goatee and the silver wire frames of his small spectacles added to the attraction.
After Sadeem left the room, Waleed asked her father for permission to phone her so that they could get to know each other better before announcing their marriage. Her father agreed and gave Waleed her mobile number.
Waleed called late that night. Sadeem hesitated before answering. He began by saying how much he admired her. He would talk a little, and then remain silent for a short while, as if expecting her to respond. She told him she was happy to meet him, but said no more. Then he told her that she had bewitched him and he couldn’t wait till Eid Al Fitr to marry her.
After that, Waleed called her dozens of times a day, the first being the minute he woke up, the last a long conversation before bed, sometimes stretching through to the dawn. He even phoned and woke her so that she could listen to a song he had requested for her on the radio. And every day he asked her to go to various shops and choose something, such as a watch or perfume or glasses, for him to buy later so that everything he wore would be to her liking.
The other girls began to envy Sadeem. Especially Gamrah, who always felt sorry for herself when Sadeem told her how much she loved Waleed, and how he adored her in return. Gamrah started making up stories about how happy she was with Rashid, what Rashid did and what Rashid bought for her.
Soon the marriage of Waleed and Sadeem became official. Sadeem’s aunt cried during the milkah as she thought of her sister - Sadeem’s mother - who died when Sadeem was still a young girl. She also cried secretly for her son, Tariq, whom she had hoped would marry Sadeem.
During the official proceedings Sadeem had asked to be allowed to sign the marriage book, but the families insisted she stamp it with her fingerprint. “My girl, just stamp your print,” her aunt told her. “The sheikh says she shouldn’t sign. Only men sign.”
Afterwards, Sadeem’s father threw a grand banquet. Waleed came the following evening to meet his bride whom he hadn’t seen since the elro’yah elshariya. For her milkah gift, he bought her the latest mobile phone.
During the next few weeks, Waleed’s visits became more frequent, most of them made with her father’s knowledge, though a few were without. He usually came after isha prayer and would not leave before 2am. At weekends his visits would last till dawn. Every couple of weeks or so he would invite her out for dinner at a classy restaurant. On other evenings he would bring along dishes or desserts that she loved. They spent their time talking and laughing, or watching a movie he had borrowed from one of his friends or she from one of hers.
Then things began to develop and one night she tasted her first kiss. Waleed was used to kissing her cheeks when saying hello or goodbye. But one night his parting was hotter than before. Maybe the movie they watched together helped create the right atmosphere for him to plant a long kiss on her virgin lips.
At about this time Sadeem started preparing for the wedding, browsing the shops with Um Nuwayyer, or Michelle, or Lamees. Even Waleed would accompany her at times, especially when she was shopping for evening gowns.
The wedding date was set for the summer vacation. Sadeem had asked for this because she feared that if it had been during Al Hajj vacation it would have interfered with her studies for her final exams. She had always wanted to get good grades. Her decision upset Waleed, who was anxious to have the wedding as soon as possible, so she decided to make it up to him. One night she wore the transparent black gown he had bought for her (at the time she refused to try it on in front of him), and invited him over without the knowledge of her father, who was out camping with friends in the desert.
Not the red roses scattered on the sofa, nor the candles here and there, nor even the soft music coming from the hidden stereo were able to catch Waleed’s attention as much as the black gown that revealed more of her body than it concealed. And since Sadeem had vowed to please her Waleed that night, she allowed him to go over the line with her to erase any grudges he might still hold about the wedding being delayed. She did not try to stop him as she always had whenever he went beyond the limits she had set since the early milkah days. But now she was convinced that he wouldn’t be completely satisfied unless she presented him with more of her “femininity”, and she wouldn’t mind that at all. Anything to please Waleed, her love. For his sake she would exceed all limits.
Waleed left after fajer athan as always, but this time he seemed distressed and troubled. She thought he must have been feeling as nervous as she was after what had happened. She waited for his usual call when he reached his house, especially since she needed to talk to him and feel his tenderness after a night like this, but he didn’t call. Sadeem didn’t allow herself to call him and waited till the next day, but he didn’t call then either. As difficult as it was for her, she decided to give him a few days to calm down before calling him.
Three days passed, but not a word. Sadeem decided to drop her resolve and called, only to find his mobile phone was switched off. She tried calling again throughout the week at different times, desperate to reach him, but his phone remained switched off, and his room number was always engaged. What’s going on? She wondered. Has something bad happened to him? Is he still angry, even after all her efforts to please him? What about all she gave him that night? Did she make a mistake by surrendering herself to him before the wedding? Oh no! Had Waleed gone mad? Could that possibly be the reason behind him avoiding her since that day? But why? Wasn’t he officially her husband from the milkah? Or does getting married mean the ballroom, the guests, the singer and dinner? What is marriage? And did she deserve to be punished for what she did? Wasn’t he the one who started? Wasn’t he the stronger side? Why did he force her to commit the sin then walk out on her? Which one of them was the sinner? And was what happened a sin to start with? Was he testing her? And if she did fail that test, would that imply that she didn’t deserve him? He must’ve thought she was an easy girl. What stupidity! Isn’t she his wife, and does he not have a right to her? Didn’t she stamp her fingerprint that day in the huge book beside his signature? Weren’t there agreements, witnesses and an announcement? Or did all that mean nothing and she wasn’t legally his wife without the wedding party?
No one had ever told her any of these things before. Is Waleed going to make her pay for her ignorance? If only her mother were alive, she would’ve warned her and directed her, then none of this would have happened. Besides, she had heard a lot of stories about girls who had done what she did with Waleed and more during the milkah period and before the wedding! She even knew about cases where the brides had had babies just seven months after the wedding! And only the people who follow such details notice them, so where had she gone wrong?
Who would help her draw the thin line between what she should and shouldn’t do? And is that line the same in our religion as it is in the mind of a young Nadji man? Waleed would always blame her whenever she tried warding him off by saying that she was his wife according to the religion of God and his prophet, but her aunt and Um Nuwayyer always warned her about getting carried away with him because she was only his fiancee! So whom should she believe? Who would explain to her the Saudi man’s psychology so that she would be able to understand? Did Waleed think she was an “experienced” woman?!! Would he have preferred it if she prevented him? She hadn’t done more than respond to him in the same way she saw couples on TV do or would hear from her married or experienced friends, and he did the rest! So what’s her fault if all she did was play along and naturally knew how to deal with him under the circumstances? It did not require rocket science! So what is all this catastrophic stupidity and idiotic thinking that is taking over Waleed’s mind?
She phoned his mother but was told that she was sleeping. She left her name with the housemaid and asked her to inform her mistress she had called, but there was no response. Should she tell her family? Should she tell her father what happened that bloody night? How will she tell him? And what would she say? And if she managed to keep it a secret, would she be able to do so till the wedding? But what would people say then? The groom bailed out?! No! Waleed couldn’t stoop to such cruelty! He must be in a coma in hospital somewhere. Him being in a hospital was a thousand times more bearable than him avoiding her!
Sadeem was afloat in her confusion, waiting for a word or a visit from Waleed, dreaming he would come to her, begging forgiveness. But he didn’t come and he didn’t call. Her father asked her what was wrong but she refused to answer.
And then the answer came from Waleed: divorce papers! Sadeem’s father tried all he could to find out what lay behind this miserable surprise, but she collapsed in his arms and exploded into tears without confessing anything. He angrily went to Waleed’s father, who said he was surprised and did not know what had happened. All that Waleed had said was that he had developed some uneasiness towards his bride so he preferred calling everything off now rather than waiting until the wedding party.
Sadeem kept her secret and licked her wounds silently until the next shock came: she had failed her exams in more than half of her subjects.

Edited extract from “The Girls of Riyadh” by Rajaa al-Sanie.

GLOSSARY
Nadji: a person from Najd, the central region of Saudi Arabia known for being very conservative
Elro’yah elshariya: Men are allowed to see women only once before marriage to decide whether they want to marry them
Eid Al Fitr: The holiday that falls at the end of Ramadan
Milkah: The signing of official marriage documents
Milkah period: The time between the official marriage-signing and the wedding. According to Islamic and Saudi state law, the couple are officially husband and wife, but tradition forbids them practising their rights until after the wedding
Sheikh: Religious official
Al Hajj: A pilgrimage to Mecca during the month of Dhu’l Hijja
Athan: The call to prayer
Fajer athan: The first of the five prayers, paired with dawn
Isha: The last of the five prayers, paired with nightfall