The Gilded Cage
664 Words
The Manpower Agency was a low-slung building sitting between a mechanic's shop and a busy market stall. The scent of ozone and exhaust fumes outside gave way to a sweltering humidity inside, thick with the smell of cheap disinfectant and stale coffee. The waiting room was packed. Dozens of women sat on low plastic benches, their eyes wide with a fragile mix of terror and hope, clutching battered folders to their chests.
Ekim took a number and sat. She kept her eyes forward, avoiding the gaze of the other women. She didn't want to hear their stories; she was struggling enough to survive her own. Every time the heavy door to the inner office swung open, a gust of conditioned air escaped, carrying the sharp voice of the head agent, Mr. Benson.
Finally, her number was called.
Mr. Benson was a short, rotund man with a gleaming forehead and a smile that seemed perpetually plastered in place. His office was surprisingly luxurious compared to the waiting room, furnished with imitation leather chairs and a polished mahogany desk. Behind him, a massive map of the world was pinned, with Saudi Arabia glowing like a gold mine.
"Ah, Ekim! Welcome, welcome," he boomed, standing up to pump her hand with sweaty enthusiasm. "Sit! We have been waiting for you." He gestured grandly to the chair. "I’ve reviewed your file. Firstborn, yes? Reliable. Excellent. We have the perfect placement for you in Riyadh."
"Riyadh," Ekim repeated, her voice steady but her hands trembling beneath the desk.
"Yes, the capital! A shining city," Benson continued, sliding a slick, glossy brochure across the table. It showed skyscrapers made of glass that mirrored the sky, and women in beautiful abayas smiling gracefully. "A very prestigious, modern family. Palace living, really. You will be a domestic helper, yes, but think of the opportunities!"
Ekim looked at the polished smile in the picture. The agent’s tone was smooth, like the silk of the shirt he wore. "My son," Ekim said softly. "Asah. The salary... the contract said—"
Benson waved a hand dismissively, cutting her off. "Forget the numbers on the outside list. For you, because you are reliable, I negotiated a special rate. Double." He tapped a line of fine print in a contract he began sliding towards her. "And the benefits! Your own private room. A smartphone with free Wi-Fi so you can video-call Alice and the children every night. And, because the family is so modern, one full day off a week, every Sunday, to explore the city with the other girls. It’s practically a cultural exchange."
A flicker of hope ignited in Ekim’s chest. A smartphone? Her own room? The agent made it sound not like exile, but adventure. Maybe she wouldn't have to be a ghost after all. She imagined Asah's face on a brightly lit screen.
Benson handed her a slick silver pen. "Just sign here, here, and here. We handle the visa, the flight... everything."
Ekim picked up the pen. Her father's face flashed in her mind, his voice reminding her that if something sounds too good to be true, it is. But then she thought of Racy’s empty exams, Josh’s worn-out shoes, and Alice coughing in the smoke of the wash-yard.
"My passport," she whispered. "The other women outside were saying that when they get there—"
"Standard procedure," Benson lied smoothly, his eyes narrowing slightly but his smile remaining fixed. "The agency holds it until you clear customs in Riyadh. Then, the family keeps it in a safety deposit box for 'insurance.' It’s for your own protection, Ekim. You wouldn't want to lose your papers in a foreign land. They are your golden key home."
Ekim stared at the Arabic script in the passport he was holding. It looked like an elegant cage. She took a deep breath, and, ignoring the small voice of caution, she pressed the pen to the paper, signing away the next two years of her life.
- Writer
