The Handmaid’s Tale Is Real — And It’s Happening in Saudi Arabia
While the world applauds Saudi Arabia’s rebrand, hundreds of women remain trapped in secret prisons. This is the dystopia Margaret Atwood warned us about.
A young woman in a black abaya stands trembling on a second-floor window ledge in northwest Saudi Arabia. Below her, a group of men gathers with a crane to bring her down.
She isn’t trying to escape a fire. She’s trying to escape Dar al-Reaya — one of Saudi Arabia’s secretive “care homes” for women. A place so traumatic, so dehumanizing, that for many the only imagined exit is through death.
This isn’t a dystopian novel. This is real life.
Gilead Exists. It’s Just Wearing a Niqab.
In The Handmaid’s Tale, women’s bodies are controlled by the state. Their identities erased. Their roles dictated. Rebellion is met with punishment. Escape, almost impossible.
Saudi Arabia’s Dar al-Reaya system is the real-world equivalent—where girls and women are locked away for “disobedience,” “absenteeism,” or merely speaking out. The punishment? Isolation, religious reprogramming, beatings, virginity tests, sedatives, and sometimes public lashings.
“It’s like hell,” said one woman who later fled into exile. “I tried to end my life when I found out I was going to be taken there. I thought, ‘I can’t survive it.’”
Others didn’t survive.
Activists report multiple suicide attempts—and some confirmed deaths—from women locked away, stripped of all contact with the outside world, held indefinitely until their male guardian signs for their release.
When Home Is More Dangerous Than Prison
Most girls are not there for committing crimes. They’re there because they ran from crime—domestic violence, incest, beatings, or forced marriages—and were punished for exposing the shame of the family.
If a woman is raped, she may be jailed. If she flees an abuser, she is detained. If she speaks about it online, she brings “dishonor” and is locked away for “rehabilitation.”
“My father used it as a threat if I didn’t obey his sexual abuse,” said Sarah Al-Yahia, now an activist in exile. “Girls face a horrifying dilemma: stay in an abusive home or go to a torture prison.”
It’s not a care home. It’s a warehouse for unwanted women.
Dehumanization by Design
On arrival, girls are strip-searched, subjected to virginity tests, and often drugged to keep them compliant. Names are erased. Individuality disappears. Obedience becomes survival.
If you miss a prayer — lashes.
If you are caught speaking privately with another girl — lashes.
If guards suspect you’re gay — lashes, and public humiliation.
“The guards gather and watch when the girls are being flogged,” said one survivor. “Some of them laugh.”
Others are married off to older men — often ex-convicts — as their only path out.
This is gender-based incarceration under the banner of “moral reform.”
The Saudi State’s Dirty Secret
Activists like Sarah Al-Yahia and Maryam Aldossari — now living in exile — have risked everything to speak the truth.
Inside Dar al-Reaya, women are stripped of more than freedom. They are stripped of identity.
“They call each other by numbers, not names,” one former detainee said. “If a girl shares her family name, she gets lashes. If she doesn’t pray, she gets lashes. If she is caught alone with another girl, they accuse her of being a lesbian — and she gets lashes.”
Women are flogged for not praying, subjected to virginity tests upon arrival, and often offered in marriage to older men — sometimes convicted criminals — just to escape confinement.
“If you are sexually abused or get pregnant by your brother or father, you are the one sent to Dar al-Reaya,” one survivor told The Guardian. “To protect the family’s reputation.”
Let that sink in.
This isn’t rehabilitation. It’s repression dressed up as reform.
Saudi Arabia’s Feminist Facade
Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman wants you to believe Saudi Arabia has changed. Women can drive now. They can go to concerts. There are even female influencers promoting luxury brands from Riyadh.
But those are the headlines. Behind them is a regime that still uses male guardianship as a form of lifelong ownership—and Dar al-Reaya as its enforcement mechanism.
“Every girl growing up in Saudi knows about Dar al-Reaya and how awful it is,” one exile explained. “It’s the fear that keeps you in line.”
Amina’s Story: The “Care” That Broke Her
Amina, age 25, fled her home in Buraydah after her father beat her. She thought a government-run care home would protect her.
Instead, she was mocked by the staff:
“They told me, ‘Other girls are chained at home. Be thankful your situation isn’t that bad.’”
They summoned her father the next day. Instead of holding him accountable, they asked both to write a list of conditions. Amina begged not to be beaten or forced into marriage. Her father’s list? That she obey him, never leave the house without permission, and always be accompanied by a male guardian.
She signed it — out of fear.
Once home, the beatings resumed. She eventually fled the country, alone and terrified.
“I remember thinking my life didn’t matter. Like even if something terrible happened to me, no one would care.”
Fear Starts Young
The regime doesn’t wait until adulthood to start the indoctrination.
At age 16, Shams remembers a woman visiting her school—a former inmate of Dar al-Reaya. She told the class she was jailed for having a relationship with a boy.
“She told us, if a woman has sex she becomes ‘cheap.’ If you’re a man, you’re always a man. But if you’re a woman, and you ‘make yourself cheap,’ you’ll be cheap forever.”
That’s the message every girl receives. Don’t step out of line. Don’t speak. Don’t exist on your own terms.
The Global Lie
Saudi authorities claim these are “specialized care facilities” where women are free to leave at any time. They categorically deny reports of abuse, confinement, or coercion.
But the stories tell the truth.
Women cannot leave without their guardian’s permission. Some are trapped for years. Speaking publicly about these facilities is nearly impossible from inside the country. Even offering shelter to a woman accused of “absenteeism” is a crime.
“They make the victims feel ashamed,” says Fawzia al-Otaibi, another activist forced into exile. “No one dares tweet or speak about these places. No one will ask about you when you go there.”
What The Handmaid’s Tale Warned Us About
Atwood’s Gilead was fiction, but prophetic:
Women’s bodies as state property
Men as gatekeepers of worth
Rebellion punished as heresy
Freedom only through submission, marriage, or death
In Saudi Arabia, it’s not a parable. It’s policy.
And while the world cheers the Kingdom’s glitzy events, Formula 1 races, and new megacities, it remains silent about the women suffering behind closed doors.
What You Can Do
Share this article and amplify survivor voices. Silence is complicity.
Pressure FIFA, tourism boards, and governments to demand real reform—not PR stunts.
Support shelters and exiled activists fighting to protect women at risk.
Follow groups like ALQST and Human Rights Watch for verified updates and campaigns.
A Silence Louder Than Screams
The most terrifying thing about Dar al-Reaya isn’t that it exists.
It’s that the world knows it exists — and pretends not to see.
“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum,” wrote Margaret Atwood.
“Don’t let the bastards grind you down.”
For the women of Saudi Arabia, that fight is not fiction.
It’s every. single. day.