Story Six: B.J. from Saudi Arabia

I’m a girl from Saudi Arabia. I live with my four sisters and with our father (the so-called father or what he is supposed to be) after he hit my mother and kicked her out of the house and now she’s not divorced and living with her parents. We meet her at the market or in a restaurant according to the dictator’s orders, my father.

That man, whom I knew as a father since the day I was born, hates women and girls. He curses them and casts his ultimate anger on them, whether they were close or far from him. That father has beaten my mother up many times over endless problems which I witnessed since the day I was born and it was all over absolutely trivial matters.

He has beaten me up very badly in Ramadan because one day I went to the pharmacy next door without asking for his permission. Even though it was during day time and I was completely covered and my face was covered too! He started beating me hard with my own shoes and hit me many times with his forehead. Even when I tried to argue he hits me. One time he hit me very badly because I argued and I was good at it. He doesn’t want anyone to be better than him or gain wisdom and courage. He treats us the girls as if we know nothing and we don’t have brains. He always told us, ever since we were little, that we were useless and that we can never be good at anything and won’t understand anything.

He once hit me so hard with an empty water gallon that I almost lost my eye. He then accused me of being mentally ill and took me to psychiatrists. He claimed that I wasn’t normal because I talk back. He gave me drugs for mental illnesses for about a year. I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia knowing that he convinced the doctors to do so, he convinced them to take his side as they have no morals. They fear no God and don’t do proper diagnosis and that’s the case with many psychiatrists in Jeddah. They seriously need to be scandalized and their façade must be uncovered to show who they really are. I turn to God, may Allah punish them. They take money, on the expense of the oppressed and the weak, and give false diagnosis.

He almost had me electrically shocked, but I begged him, the doctor and everyone in the hospital to let me out before they did that. In fact, one of the doctors told me that I was healthy and I had no mental illness whatsoever and that he didn’t agree with this unjust and untrue diagnosis. My so-called father still thinks I’m ill, he’s giving me Sericol drug by force and if I refuse to take it, he beats me really hard and sticks his finger in my mouth to make sure I swallow the pill.

He beats me up and I don’t need him!

For all of that, I’m with the uprising of women in the Arab world. I support this uprising which I believe must be intellectual and cultural, and not swaying from faith and religion or leaving the veil. An uprising where the prevailing and controlling patriarchal rules are replaced by new rules, where there are penalties with fine or prison for each man who abuses a woman violently, mentally or psychologically. An uprising in order to change the prevailing thought in a society that considers that a woman is weak and can’t think for herself, that she’s just a tool for a man’s pleasure and satisfaction.


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Story One: Abir from Lebanon
Story Six: B.J. from Saudi Arabia