In a telephonic conversation, Monera explains how she wants to have a decent job. Yet her brother, who is her legal guardian, refuses to give her an approval document that private and public employers ask for before employing a woman.

I ask her if she is married to which she replies that she is a struggling widow with five young children. Her eldest son left school to find a job and financially help her in looking after the family. His monthly income, however, doesn’t even cover household expenses for a week. Monera then says that she doesn’t want her other children leaving their schools just to earn money. Rather, she would like to see them becoming educated and gaining degrees like her nephews and nieces, who study at private schools with annual fees no less than SR20,000.

Monera’s brother feels totally at odds with her working as a maid or a shop assistant and says such professions would bring disgrace to her extended family. This is especially the case because her brothers and sisters are well-known in their community. However, Monera explains to me that all she wants is some money to meet her basic household expenses.

When I tell her that perhaps I should get her story published in a newspaper, she kindly asks me not to. All she wants is for readers to gain a general overview of what she and other women in similar situations experience in the Kingdom.

It may come as a surprise to many, but yes in Saudi Arabia there are widows and divorcees living in despicable conditions in the shadow of merciless dominant menfolk. Monera bitterly asks: “Isn’t it my right to go out and look for a job to feed my children instead of sitting at home waiting for a miracle or begging for money?”

Monera then painfully began asking whether her children had a right to survive, a right to an education and a right to live decent lives like other people. Or should they be denied basic things just because they’re orphans and their uncles and cousins are too classy to see their aunt work as a servant. In fact, Monera says that her relatives aren’t even concerned whether her children sleep on empty or full stomachs.

Monera tells me how she fears becoming weak and that she is scared that her desperate situation may lead her down the wrong path. She is after all human and if nobody helps her then she fears losing control over herself and her dignity. Soon she begins to describe details of her daily struggle to survive and asks me to help her in telling people about her plight. She tells me that she’s even willing to work as a security guard just to live and asks me to tell people and the authorities that she and others like her are not living like humans but they are constantly struggling without any help or appreciation.

Monera then explains to me that most women journalists tend not to know much about the situation of people like her and think that divorcees and widows own fancy cars, have chauffeurs and maids, and villas fitted with large swimming pools.

Even simple trips to the hospital with a sick child in the middle of the night can be a terrifying experience, Monera explains. Especially when the driver looks at her with an evil look. Her daughter says she doesn’t want to go to school because her uniform is worn out; her son has become solemn and sad as he works all day everyday making Monera worry about his health.

Monera says she isn’t after people’s sympathy; she just wants people to stop shutting doors of opportunities in her face and allow her to walk, live and survive like a normal person.