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Part 7...The End!

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9 pm Riyadh time saw the arrival of the driver, cash in hand, and within another ten minutes, I was accompanying the Indian hotel manager in the back seat of a Taxi, to a part of town that would not usually be visited by tourists!

The first little trip ended up at an Indian restaurant, where the “contact” arrived and simply told us to follow him. Another trip down alleys and side streets and we were ushered into a room, where I was asked for my money. Once they could see that I had the cash, I was then taken through into an adjoining office that actually was part of a genuine travel agency. My tickets were waiting for me! I was to catch the 3 pm flight from Riyadh to Dubai on Saudi Air, and then catch an interlinking flight on Air Kenya to Nairobi, and hopefully from there on to Johannesburg.

Tickets safely in my wallet, I went back to the hotel and literally collapsed in relief back in my room, where I hurriedly packed my cases and tried to get some sleep as I could finally look forward to the new day with some joy in my heart.

Of course this was real life and not a fairy story, and it was not going to let me off easily...

The next morning dawned with the wailing of morning prayers shattering my dreams, hopefully for the last time.

Seven o’clock saw me loaded up in the school bus, with my luggage, and a wonderful farewell from the hotel. Seven thirty saw me back in the office with a group of men who had never smiled in their lives, and whose sadistic temperaments were about to deliver one last blow to my joy.

The 7:30 meeting made one thing very clear, and that was the fact that I was not “home free” by any means.

I was told to sit in the “staff room” and await further orders.

8 am, 9 am 10 am and finally a summons to the office once again.

I will never forget the chill of walking into that room to be greeted by the ice cold stony eyes of Khalaf sitting behind the desk of the headmaster, staring at me with complete and utter hatred. The story was not yet over...

We sat and stared at each other for possibly five minutes before he said a word. When he did speak, he spoke in Arabic and gestured towards the Head...obviously talking about me. Suddenly, the man who had oiled his way through my life on earlier meetings could not speak a word of English and an interpreter was required.

I would be lying if I said exactly how long the rampage continued, but when it was finally translated into English for me, I was told that I was nothing but a fly sitting on a piece of Camel dung in his eyes and that I would never be forgiven for the shame that I had tried to bring upon his beloved school. I was then told to write him a letter of apology and read it to him on my knees, and beg for his forgiveness.

With shaking hand, I wrote, what is the most grovelling and self depreciating letter I have ever had to compose in my life, and then, slowly, on my knees, I read it to him, begging for his forgiveness.

I was dismissed with the flick of a finger.

At that point I was taken out to the bus that was parked with my luggage all packed away and driven to the air port.

They are definitely sadists, as I was then driven in silence for 35 minutes, and then taken to the International Departures...still without a Passport...that was finally to make an appearance only when I was convinced that I was to stay in Saudi for the third request by the airport official, the passport was produced from within the folds of a cloak, and I was free to go...

Home Free At Last!

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  1. Stokstert's Avatar
    Thanks Fazda for the detailed horror story in a short span of your life. There is definitely nothing like home and I hope by letting us read it, you are relieved of some of the pain you endured.


  2. Fazda's Avatar
    Thanks Klaus. I certainly started writing the story in an attempt to "get it off my chest".

    Glad you enjoyed the read!
  3. Oscar2's Avatar, what an experience.
    You have a good way with words, keep on writing.
  4. Fazda's Avatar
    Thanks very much