DAMMAM, 24 July — The death of Prince Ahmad ibn Salman cuts short a life defined by compassion and humility. He took more pride in being a human being than in having blue blood, once quoting Millard Fuller: “It is not your blue blood, your pedigree or your college degree: It’s what you do with your life that counts.”
Based in the Eastern Province, I was fortunate enough to work with him on many occasions and to slowly come to know the man he was.
He was a shrewd businessman on board meetings, a no-nonsense person in business negotiations, a caring chairman to his staff, and a visionary when it came to planning and execution.
But the single quality that surpassed all these others and made him unique was his ability to maintain, at all times and in all circumstances, the personal touch.
During the final days of the Gulf War, when the allied forces had begun their attack on Iraq, at the Arab News office in Alkhobar we were getting restless to enter Kuwait.
One evening, Prince Ahmad just walked in: no protocols, no high security. He asked each of the team members what we needed to address the job in hand.
The photographers wanted state-of-the art lens for their cameras. There was a request for a TV so that we could follow the news. An American journalist working temporarily for Arab News as an intern wanted an extension to his visit visa.
The list went on. Prince Ahmad himself made a list.
Prince Ahmad turned to me and said: “You did not ask for anything.”
I told him that we were keen to enter Kuwait and for that we required a special automobile equipped with phone and fax, as Kuwait at that time was devoid of communications. His first concern was our welfare, and he shot back at Arab News Editor in Chief Khaled Al-Maeena: “Would it not be dangerous to enter occupied Kuwait?”
When the editor in chief assured him that, though possibly dangerous, it was a professional requirement, Prince Ahmad made all the necessary calls and in an hour a brand new van — equipped with phone, fax, TV, video and fridge — was ready for us. He instructed all of us not to take undue risk to our lives. “You guys are more precious to me than a scoop on the war,” he declared.
On another occasion, when I worked with Prince Ahmad was during the launch of his Nabati Edible Oil Company, I saw a different prince: shrewd businessman who did not overlook the minutest detail of the new venture.
Abdul Latif Al-Khwaja, the then general manager of Nabati, once commented: “He is a thorough professional and could be a nightmare to a non-professional management.”
On the launch day at King Abdul Aziz Seaport, he saw me and came toward me and unexpectedly began talking about Arab News.
These were the days when Arab News was passing through a rough patch. Two editors in chief had left the paper, and there was a lack of leadership.
In the middle of the conversation he said: “Don’t worry, I have found a new editor in chief and things will return to normal.”
In other words, the chairman was reassuring his staff about the future of his paper. I was just a senior reporter, but to Prince Ahmad titles and status were unimportant: the paper was his family.
Prince Ahmad was so young when he died. His death was terribly premature. But I am sure he would be the first to agree that it is not the length of one’s life that matters, but what one does with it.
In his 43 years Prince Ahmad did so much, for so many people, and in so many defining ways; and he always strove to help others to live better lives.
