But it was only for a few weeks. It was her holiday after all. And Abdul was nice enough. He had a t.v. for her and brought her special food, and was polite and courteous towards her. She suspected nothing. Then, three days after her arrival, he introduced her to his youngest son, Abdullah, a sickly 14-year-old boy, and said:
"This is your husband."
"What do you mean, 'this is my husband?' "
"This is your husband. You are married."
Zana didn't understand. She refused to accept it - she objected, she fought, she denied. To no avail. Her father had arranged everything in England, and Abdul had paid for her marriage to his son.
Her father had sold her for $2500.
She was alone and abandoned on a remote mountaintop in a strange country with not a soul to help her.
On the very night of this atrocious announcement, Abdul locked her in her room - with Abdullah - to consummate the "marriage". Abdullah slept alone; Zana spent a sleepless night in shock curled up in a corner. The following night, forced to submit or be tied down, Zana was raped for the first time. The ritual would continue night after night, and any time she refused, Abdul beat her viciously the next morning. A high-spirited girl, Zana fought back, but he easily overpowered her. He promised that as soon as she fell pregnant she could return to Birmingham. It was the first of many lies.
Realising the awful fate awaiting her little sister, Zana desperately wrote a letter home :
"To my dear Mother,Please don't let Nadia come to Yemen. They say I'm married. I don't know what's going to happen now. I'm scared. I need help. I'm begging you, please don't let Nadia come, I beg you Mummy darling. Help me. Most of all do not let Nadia come."