Islamic Princess Maryam (2): The Open Confession. Marketa Korinkova Islam Hijab Muslim Allah Dubai Emirates Abu Dhabi UAE Fashion Model Celebrity VIP Elite Amwaj Jewellery Al Dhaheri Ali Sons Ruwaya

It’s late evening and Dubai, the key city of United Arab Emirates, ruled by His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, impressing the world with endless glamour, luxury and style, shines with millions of lights. The tallest skycraper of the world, Burj Khalifa (828m), stands proudly, touching the sky, and on its 102nd floor, there is a residential suite, where a young woman lives, watching the fascinating game of colourful lights under her windows.

Her name was once Marketa Korinkova, and she was a highly reputated Czech fashion model. Beautiful, tall, well built, with brown hair and brown eyes, well educated, hard working and modest, still young, only 27 years old, the girl pursued her dreams, until reaching Dubai, where many human dreams can be fulfilled. But for Marketa, this visit has much wider consequences: she accepted Islam here, and later changed the world, called by Allah for so called Da’wah, the Islamic missionary activity, so thousands of people all over the world could discover the immense beauty and wide advantages of Islam, able to liberate them from unhappiness and oppression.

From this reason, she accepted a new Islamic first name, Maryam, the same as the mother of Prophet Isa (Jesus), peace be upon him, once wore. This name, suggested by Imam of the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque at Abu Dhabi, and the rest of local Muslim community, where Marketa Korinkova converted to Islam, predestined her most important mission: to relay desirable relief for all people in need, lost and wandering, disappointed and depressed, left by their beloved ones, feeling isolated in the world, feeling, that they are losing life, they failed with their education, job, career… and tomorrow seems the most dark.

But the truth is different: by choosing Allah as your most trustworthy guide, by submitting to His will, all doors of the world become widely open.

They call her “The Islamic Princess” and “The Mother of All Czech Muslims”, but Marketa Korinkova remains modest, concentrated on her demanding task. During the evenings, she lives here, high in the skycraper, and she can pereive herself as successful: but Allah wants her to do more, than to enjoy luxury and worldly pleasures.

That’s the reason, why this large flat, with integrated swimming pool, is furnished unexpectedly modestly, even with strict minimalism in mind. But what catches your attention immediately, is a praying carpet, directed towards Kaaba, Mecca, Saudi Arabia, where the spiritual centre of Earth is located, and all Muslims around the world, 2 billions of them, face this direction (Qibla) during their five obligatory daily prayers (salaat).

When Marketa Korinkova feels, that it was enough of enjoying the seducing view from a large window, rather a glass wall, she sits on a large couch, she puts her long slim legs, hidden in a luxurious abaya, under her body, like she does during prayers, and with her shining hair and neck covered by hijab, she starts narrating, how she got here, and how she got to Islam, and her mission.

“It’s not easy to be a Western girl nowadays,” she opens with a sigh, maybe remembering the time, when she also struggled with career. “The competition is fierce, thousands of young women everywhere, all beautiful, educated, fresh, hungry, determined to make success, with practice at multinational compaines, provable track of employment and study visits abroad, with perfect knowledge of languages.

I am not sure, whether it’s right for the present women at the West, I mean, this obsession with career, to be somebody, like men, copying male behavior… no wonder, that low natality is slowly eradicating whole nations, once mighty and powerful, so you need to replace your manpower with immigrants, but it has consequences… anyway, we deserve it, the West, it was our selfishness and obsession which caused all the latest wars and humanitarian crises.

When I was accepted to study at famous Charles University in Prague, for a study programme ‘Marketing Communication and Public Relations’, I felt, that this is the beginning of something, that I can conquer the whole world. You see, the Public Relations is a way, how the secret levers are pushed in the society: and to be close to the sources of power, in the middle of things, is always beneficial and advantageous.

So I started building my social network, I mean, making connections, so crucially important nowadays. I participated in all possible events at school, conventions, discussion panels, press conferences… but the biggest opportunities were in the fashion modeling branch.

I never perceived myself as somehow excessively beautiful, but my vicinity persuaded me, that I am qualified for this kind of job, so I tried it, why not. And it was good: every student needs not only money, but to be somewhere, to belong somewhere, to get experience, necessary for the future career, and also friends, who can inspire you, what to do with life.

No, I hadn’t become a super model, but still, it gave me much. During all that shoots of photos, campaigns and commercials, you could meet very important people. Of course, that many of them were only eternally promising, in order to seduce you into bed, others were simply liars and fraudsters, like everywhere. So you learned, how to be careful, and how to recognize different kinds of people, being able to estimate correctly, whether he or she can be an asset, good for your career and opportunities, or a nuisance, loss of time, or even a threat for your personal brand.

During these days, I met with a businessman, who was originating from Israel. He got some very good modeling jobs for me, so I filed him as a beneficial person, who can be trusted, as he never made any advancements towards me, he behaved decently and profesionally, always, even introducing me to his alleged wife, during a VIP party at Prague, some opening of a new gallery, or what it was.

Only today, I realize, that this all was too good to be true…”

Now, Marketa’s narration needs an explanation.

There are basically two ways, how a citizen can become an asset of an Intelligence service: either he or she simply applies for a job, is thoroughly screened and tested, and then accepted, or rejected. But these operatives, who come to the Secret Service headquarters on their own, never make it too far in the Intelligence structures, serving only as pawns, without any chance of expecting a big spy career. The reason is simple: they could be moles, and Intelligence services are like women: if you come to them, they perceive you as weak, empty and desperate, and it means dangerous, prone to be bribed or extorted by adversaries.

The other choice is much more interesting for both sides: the Intelligence service gains interest in a person, either domestic or foreign, and if The Company feels, that this particular individual could be an asset for their operations, certain kind of careful, complicated and complex “coursthip” begins.

But don’t imagine, that two roughly looking men come to you, they show their IDs and say, that they offer you a special job for the country: in order to keep the secret service hidden in shadows, the things are arranged using front organizations, and shell corporations. It’s not in the interest of The Company to be seen openly: some scandals could easily occur, damaging the good name, reputation, and mostly, revealing their clandestine operations.

Yet more sensitive, even hot things become, if an operative of a foreign country tries to get an asset abroad. This could mean a serious international incident, damaging the whole state, even starting a war, not speaking about commiting a very serious criminal offence, so very subtle manners have to be used: like offering a modeling jobs for a promising woman, building her trust, and then, slowly switching to, let’s say, another and more important tasks for the interests of a foreign power.

“I know, it’s so big irony, that in the end, the Israelis created me, an Islamic asset,” Marketa Korinkova can’t resist to smile. “But I was young, dumb and hungry, like thousands of other girls, who succumb to all possible temptations, and I wanted to believe, that the ultimate chance I was waiting for, will be true one day.

Then, this man came. He offered me a desirable stability of income, a very unique situation in the fashion modeling industry, where nothing is certain, you live from month to month. Today, I know, that this was his strategy, how to attract me towards him more, to become dependent on him in certain way, on the warmth of money he could provide me.

And his Israeli origin was even impressive for me, as our country, before the Communists came to the rule in large, in 1948, had very good relationships with Israel, we even supplied them with airplanes and weapons, as I heard, and this weapons helped them to win their war for independence in 1948, so they will be always somehow grateful towards us.

I remember, that one day, it was summer, he invited me for a lunch, that he has another good work opportunity for me, and ‘maybe I should hear about it’, which really attracted my interest. It was during the day, nothing romantic, purely business, but in pleasant company, at pleasant place,  a fancy restaurant at famous ‘The Yellow Spa’, on a left bank of Vltava river… everybody likes this kind of business negotiations, when someone comes and express their interest in you. Everybody likes this feeling of admiration, appreciation, being needed by others.”

Of course, that every Intelligence service knows the optimal recruitment processes well, and they use the custom-made, fully psychologically advanced approach to each “client”, so Marketa Korinkova was no exception. Using the man, an expierenced but inconspicuous asset, they were slowly building relationship with her, but later, another phase had to come: persuasion.

Usually, the secret service uses some basic and proven means to persuade people: money, admiration, extortion, promises of opportunities abroad, appeals to their patriotism… even something like raising compassion, particularly when negotiating with women.

“So, we were sitting at this restaurant, a good place, almost empty, doing some small talk at first, he was never that kind of person, who is always in hurry and the telephone rings all the time, and he or she is telling you: ‘I want to make business with you, but in five minutes I have to be somewhere else, so we will finish other time’, but when the moment for dessert came, my contact really changed the topic of conversation. He surprised me, when told me, that his grandfather was fighting in that 1948 Israeli war for independence, and he was a fighter pilot, flying airplanes, made in the Czech Republic, at Avia factory.”

It was Avia S-199, a post war version of German Messerschmitt Bf-109, compiled from the parts, left here by Germans, when they ceased their occupation of Czech Republic, but equipped with less effective engines: the supply of original DB-605 was destroyed during a massive explosion several weeks after the Second World War ended, at a warehouse of trophy weapons and machinery, located at Krasne Brezno, a district of Usti nad Labem, north Bohemia (once a good city quarter, but today an excluded neighbourhood in full urban decay), and the reason was never sufficiently explained.

There were rumors of a sabotage, accident, Werwolf guerilla attack, or even a false flag operation of the Czechs themselves, to provoke violent riots against German civilians, to force the Russians and Americans to allow expulsion of German nationals from the Czech historical lands, called ‘Sudetenland’, to get rid of so called ‘fifth column’ from the renewed state: and the mass exodus really happened, in 1946.

“He told me, that his grandfather visited Czech Republic, to train here, to improve his combat performance: the Arab-Israeli war was approaching. Although he experienced no love adventure here, as you would imagine perhaps, he met a mechanic, around 20 years old, who serviced the planes at the Kbely military airport, and they became friends.

When it was a time for leaving back into Israel, this new Czech friend expressed his envy, that the Israelis go to war, they will experience it, and he can’t join them: he was kind of an adventurer maybe.

Well, it ended the way, that the mechanic somehow got into Israel with the other airmen, and fought in the war alongside them, as a foreign volunteer, and such war friendships, forged at moments, when you can die instantly, those really last: even if the mechanic never returned back home, he died near Cairo, during an aerial attack on an Arabic armored column, when his engine failed, and he was too low to bail out… he landed safely, but although his Israeli comrades tried to provide air cover for him, so he could escape, the Arabs caught him eventually, tortured him and killed him, as a revenge for destroying their tanks.

After narrating this war tale, my Israeli contact told me quite festively: ‘I feel as a matter of personal debt of my family towards your country, to repay you somehow. You are a fine young woman, who helped me with my business, you are my media face and people like it, so although I originally hired someone else for the job, Alexandra Pianka, there is something I could offer you: a slight career advancement, moving to Dubai.’

In that moment, I froze, thinking: ‘Girl, it’s here!’

That opportunity I was waiting for so long, plus the desirable option, to get out of my country, where the sky is almost always grey and depressing, people are always negative and angry, the Prague city center is nice, but too small and boring through time, as the real Prague is only several VIP places like ‘Café-Café’, and then, plenty of lies of the tabloid media, fake cheap ‘celeberities’ and boredom…

And then I imagined Dubai, oh, all that endless sea, sun, desert, money, gold, silk, skycrapers, culture… I knew, that this is it! This is my place! And now, I can go there, not like some poor tourist, shocked by prices, but as a fashion modeling asset, becoming a proud local, an expat!

My heart was full of gratitude… in that moment, I would kiss the man! But then he started to explaining the details for me, and something inside me warned: ‘Be careful!’

But how could you listen to such pessimistic thoughts, if you are so close to have your dreams fulfilled? Would you listen? Would you let go a chance you were breathing for? How many of such chances you will meet in life?

I know today, how foolish it was. But once you are a girl, you do mistakes: selecting bad men, bad relationships, which hurt you. And it reminds me, that this chance was also a perfect way out of such relationship I just had… I simply breathed deeply, looked into dark eyes of the Israeli man, and I told him: ‘Tell me more. Please.’

And he did…”


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Islamic Princess Maryam: Marketa Korinkova
Marketa Korinkova Maryam Islam Muslim Allah Fashion Model Dubai UAE Czech MM8

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Alan Svejk

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