Growing Up Bin Laden - Jean P. Sasson [53]
Of course, I know now that my father initiated a quarrel with the royal family. Although they calmly and wisely attempted to defuse the squabble, my stubborn father rebuffed their appeals for rational dialogue, magnifying his complaints until a small sore finally festered into an ulcerated boil. His attacks became so unreasonable that the royal family finally threw up their hands in exasperation. Prince Naif, the minister of the interior, informed my father that he was forbidden to leave the kingdom. In Saudi Arabia, such a government action is generally the first step to losing one’s freedom. Was prison in my father’s future?
My father’s elder brothers struggled to bring him to a place of peace, reminding him of the loyalty our family owed the royal family, but my father was immovable, refusing to modify his activities.
Tension filled our household. Every aspect of our personal lives revolved around our father. When he became disgruntled, his displeasure trickled down through the family circle to every wife and every child. In the midst of the crisis, my father unexpectedly ordered my mother to take Abdul Rahman and her two young daughters and travel to Syria for a long holiday with her parents and siblings there.
Except for Abdul Rahman, all the sons of my father remained in Jeddah. Then one day my father simply disappeared without telling us anything. We were informed by one of his employees that Sheik Osama had left the kingdom for some business. My brothers and I wondered how he had accomplished the impossible. Remembering his powerful boat Shafiq al-Madani, I hoped that my father had not made a daring escape without me.
I was relieved to learn that was not the case. My father had convinced one of the princes to allow him to leave the kingdom in order to attend to some important business in Pakistan, giving that kindly prince his word that he would be back in the kingdom before he was missed.
We waited for my father’s return, but we waited in vain. When my mother returned from Syria, the family was further informed that our father was never coming back and we were leaving as well. From now on, we would be living in Africa.
I looked around at our home. I cared little about personal items and could think of nothing beyond my favorite horses stabled at the ranch. What would happen to the beautiful mare Baydah? Or to our favorite stallions, Lazaz, a chestnut Arabian with a white blaze, and Adham, who was also white with a black mane and tail? Adham was my father’s special horse, a warrior horse fit for a king.
I was soon given the heartbreaking news that Baydah would be left behind, because there were Saudi laws forbidding Arabian mares to leave the country. My only consolation came from hearing that we would be allowed to take Lazaz and Adham. There was no law restricting the export of stallions.
Yet had I known what the future held for those two beloved horses, I would have done anything necessary to keep them safe in the sands of the kingdom.
PART II
Our Life in Khartoum
Chapter 10
To Africa
NAJWA BIN LADEN
I believe that God decides all things. My faith sustained me even as I was boarding the Saudia commercial flight leaving Saudi Arabia, a country that I had grown to love with the same intensity as I loved Syria, the land of my birth.
My steadfast devotion to God was linked with my confidence in my husband. I trusted my husband too, too much. My mind had always confirmed to my heart that all of his ideas and plans were for the benefit of his wives and children. After all, for the past seventeen years Osama had made each and every important decision for his family. There was no reason for me to be wary of anything my husband told me or chose for me.
My unquestioning trust meant that I was a consoling influence, which I am certain was reflected on my face. Ever since I was a child, I have been incapable of feigning an emotion I do not feel. My serene manner shaped