Worthless Men

Sometimes women love worthless men. Men who lie to them. Men who break promises to them. Men who put them in mortal danger, like you did to me. Men who don't have the fortitude to make things right.

Shaikh Khalifa put my life in danger, in grave danger, sending a goon to bribe the guard at Rainbow Flats, a goon who tried to break into the apartment Major Johnson had told me to rent, not telling me that most of those apartments were rented to whores.

Ali's father, the aging Salim with pearls and wisdom, with whom I sat in the court complex many days listening to history and stories related to my doctoral thesis, listened as I told him about that goon, what the goon had said to me as he tried to break down the apartment door, how frightened I was that your private secretary had suggested I stay in a place of such ill repute and danger. 

Ali's father, an important man during Belgrave's years, not only listened to my fears, but having his own daughters, knowing how vulnerable I was, he cared enough about my well-being to take action, to try and protect me from the Al Khalifas. He asked Ali to help me get out of Rainbow Flats into safety in an empty apartment across from Ali's. It was natural to take comfort in safety and to trust.

Salim was not a worthless man. He saw a young woman working on a worthy goal, a scholar, being harassed by a man who'd twice run her out of London. Do you remember when Shaikh Khalifa did that? Twice. Does it surprise you to know that he'd put me in danger in order to get me off the island and away from you one more time?

Khalid said to me in my last moments leaving your old office at the BDF, walking through his office to return to Adliya and get out of Bahrain before Ali found out that I'd named him as the father of my unborn child, when I didn't even know if it was true but needed to escape from both of you, "It's fine if you want to blame me for Hamad's decisions to end support for your studies at SOAS, and for anything else that you think I did rather than he did."

So I blamed Shaikh Khalifa because of my history with him. I always wanted to find you blameless, but now, knowing how little you care for the lives of others, I've begun to wonder if it was you who sent the goon to Rainbow Flats. After all, it was your private secretary who sent me there, wasn't it?

Worthless men. They may have power, fame, worldly unearned wealth, but they're worthless when one gets to the heart of them.

#Bahrain #ShaikhKhalifaBinSalmanAlKhalifa, #PrimeMinisterShaikhKhalifa #HamadBinIsaAlKhalifa #KingHamad #SOAS #BDF #Manama #Adliya #AliBinSalimAlArrayed #AttorneyAliSalimAlArrayed #MrSalimAlArrayedRIP #RainbowFlats #London #KhalidBinAhmadAlKhalifa #ChiefOfProtocol #MajorJohnson

 

Time for the getaway

Make sure you do full safety check on the choppers every time, if you're still using them. 

Nasser is about to make his move after you lose face from the embarassing failure you've been set up to sponsor, namely the so-called Manama Workshop for part one of Israel and Kushner's No-Peace-For-Palestine Plan later this month.

Sure, a few of you old geezers will get together and kiss Bonesaw's flabby fingers and Mo Zayed's wizened cheeks.

Maybe you'll see your former protege from Morocco or maybe not. I've read press reports saying his attendence will be had and others saying nope. Maybe you'll see the usurper from Jordan who doesn't have half the intellect as the man who'd been intended for the post but at least the usurper has a Palestinian wife instead of an American bitch such as his father chose for his final wife. 

I've read that financial pressure has been applied coercively to the both of those leaders with low cash flow. 

We'll see, eh? Will they all shun you for hosting an overtly anti-Palestinian state (which none of them expected to happen in their lifetime) or show up to overtly support you and put themselves at risk of popular discontent at the groveling to Israel?

Moving to Geneva very soon would be your safe bet. Or maybe Costa Rica. You could abdicate, though, make it a fairer fight between the boys and safer for you. Seriously.

Hindsight

Hindsight becomes even more clear with age, but photos and diaries plus education and interest provide not only clarity, but understanding, an important aid in writing a memoir.

It doesn't surprise me at my age to discover documentation appearing to show that various intelligence agencies, both British and American, had an interest in our relationship from the onset when we were teenagers of 15 and 16 to the last meeting at your office in the Ministry of Defense over 15 years later.

It did surprise me to identify some of those involved over 50 years after the fact, and I'm not referring to your uncles, whose sources you were well aware of.

Home Videos

          I just found out something that I did not know, or if I did, that I'd long forgotten. It's so exciting. I will try to figure out how to make a CD out of it and send you a copy, for Old Times' sake, if you want one. You won't have to share it with anyone else. It's between the two of us, and as you could recall from context, we were still innocent teenagers. You were 16 that January. I was 17.

Even though I don't like you at all anymore, I cannot resist looking back at the photos and diaries and such, especially since I've been writing these letters to you as well as working on The Project. They bring those warm feelings rather than the others described over the years in this format. I like reverie. I look at the earliest photos and can still sink into love again. It's ridiculous, I know, but it is the nature of star-crossed love. Even broken promises, betrayal and abandonment cannot change it. Old photos.

Remember just before you went back to England for spring term in 1966 and we were at my family's house and we were having fun behind the long curtain between the living room and dining room? Mother filmed us that day! I knew that she'd used her video camera sometimes, including at the horse races and the stables, and that she'd made photos and home movies of what I think could now be considered all "The Players." I don't really give a hoot about those, but I'm happy about the one that is you and me in Manama. Perhaps it will take the pain of Now away for a moment. A home movie!