My name is Saa’da Muhammad Al-Zahrani. I turned 50 last year. I have eight children, four girls and four boys.

If I could change anything in my life, it would have been the first mistake I made with my husband, the father of my children. I should have taken what was left of my dignity after the first betrayal, and asked for a divorce. But I was afraid of asking for a divorce.

I was born in one of the villages of Al-Baha. I grew up there until I was three years old. There was no electricity, no [clean] water. I suffered from severe anaemia and excessive thinness, so my sister took me and said, “OK, leave her with me,” since my sister was newly married and she had a daughter. She said, “she can play with my daughter.” So my sister took me and I lived there until I was 10 years old.

One of my strongest memories - that will never be erased from my mind - is when [my sister’s] husband was upset. She would give me her eldest daughter and put her on my back to carry her, and she would say go, “Go downstairs and buy samosas, or go for a walk in the neighbourhood”. Going down from the house I would hear her screaming and crying. They were memories that will never be erased from my mind.

When I was six years old, my family from the village in Zahran