TERROR chief Osama bin Laden’s son spoke of his happiness at marrying an eccentric Cheshire gran. Omar bin Laden, 27, issued a statement confirming he had re-tied the knot with Jane Felix-Browne, 52 (ex-biker). She has been married five times before. Jeddah scrap metal dealer Omar, the fourth son of al-Qaeda’s fugitive leader, hit back at critics in his homeland. The Saudi insisted his bride, who had a Jewish great-grandfather, was a Muslim of partly Kuwaiti descent.
See my prior post, The bizarre world of Jane Felix-Browne, Mrs Bin Laden, Omar not Osama, or was he the first ? Jane Felix-Browne's bizarre world from Biker Babe to Bin-Laden Babe, "Satans Slaves" to "Son of Satan", in London. Attention Islamic Suicide Bombers, Omar bin-Laden Married to a former Biker & Omar Bakri's Daughter is a Stripper, The Girls of al-Qaeda, Bombs Away.
Zania has changed her name several times. She was born Paula Joy Hanson, changed her name to Zaina Mohamad al Sabah during her arabic incarnation and the name Jane Felix-Browne has resurfaced throughout her adult life.
Omar bin Laden life in the Syrian strip clubs with his wife Zaina, a British grandmother nearly twice his age who had 5 previous husbands, one a Hells Angels biker.
ROLLINGSTONE INTERVIEW....It is after midnight when Osama bin Laden's fourth-born son, Omar, leads me into a nightclub (strip joint) called Les Caves de Boys in the center of Damascus. Marked only by a small neon sign on a side street in an upscale quarter of the city, the basement bar is dark and secluded, enveloped by an air of exclusivity. Omar brushes past the two heavyset Syrian thugs at the door and picks a booth in the back.
A dozen or so wealthy Arab men are drinking whiskey and watching Russian strippers put on a show. By Western standards, the performances are tame, a succession of scantily clad women in burlesque costumes — Little Bo Peep, pigtailed schoolgirl, pole-climbing gymnast. But as Omar sips a 7 Up, he follows their every move with boyish wonder. Russian women, he tells me, are the most beautiful in the world. "It is as if their bodies are shaped with plastic, like dolls," he says.
As a teenager in the mountains of Tora Bora, Omar had been his father's chosen successor, the favored son meant to lead Al Qaeda and carry on global jihad. Then, in 2001, a few months before Osama bin Laden was to become the world's most wanted man, Omar abandoned his father's compound in Afghanistan. He left behind almost certain death for this: the world, Les Caves de Boys, life.
Now, as a dancer joins a drunken man in the booth next to us, Omar reflects on his own connection to the strippers onstage. "I have talked to these women before," he says. "I tell them my name. Sometimes they don't believe I am a bin Laden. Sometimes they get mad. They have to dance like this because their country is poor. It was my father who made Russia poor, in the war in Afghanistan. He ruined their economy. He is doing the same thing to America right now."
Omar smiles. It's a knowing and ironic look, the age of terrorism turned into a cosmic joke: Can you believe how f...... up things are?
Past two in the morning, a statuesque dancer emerges for the grand finale. Dressed in a red rhinestone bra and panties, with a black shimmy belt and an ostrich-feather crown, she gyrates her hips as Omar watches, mesmerized.
"Thank God my father doesn't run the world," Omar says, grinning. Omar bears a striking resemblance to his father: He has the long, broad nose, the pronounced brow, the dark, brooding eyes. Sitting in the hotel bistro at the Four Seasons in Damascus the morning after our visit to Les Caves, Omar attracts sly glances from the bellhops and waitresses. Shorter and more muscular than his father, he wears his jet-black hair rock-star long and pulled back in a ponytail, his goatee neatly trimmed. He is dressed in black — leather jacket, Versace T-shirt, designer jeans — and, in perhaps the final insult to the aesthetics of jihad, shiny silver sneakers. With the finishing touch of dark sunglasses, the Matrix-like outfit gives Omar the appearance of a celebrity trying to deflect notice — at the same time as he attracts attention with a flamboyant disguise.
"People recognize me a lot of times in Saudi Arabia," he says. "They say I should be proud of my father. There are millions who agree with my father. By many people, he is respected, idolized. I could face reprisals because you can't speak against your father in the Muslim world. Many people say I should not talk. But my father would never harm me."
Sitting next to Omar drinking a virgin piña colada is his wife, Zaina, a British grandmother nearly twice his age. Short, light-skinned, with striking blue eyes, she wears an ankle-length black coat that looks like a costume from The Lord of the Rings. Zaina acts as Omar's conduit to the Western world, serving as his publicist, dresser and interpreter, hovering over his every word and rushing to deflect anything she considers damaging or inflammatory. Since they met four years ago, the unlikely couple have become tabloid fodder in England. "We are bigger than Prince Charles and Lady Diana," Omar says, shaking his head. He made headlines for a few days in 2008 when he went on television and declared that his father should "find another way" — an appearance designed to promote a horse race he had proposed from Cairo to Morocco, an event Omar said would help promote world peace. He had lofty goals for himself: He hoped to become a goodwill ambassador for the United Nations, like Audrey Hepburn or Angelina Jolie.
It didn't help that Zaina struck many in the British press as an attention-hungry harpy, a scheming wanna-be who was using Omar and his infamous father as a chance to become rich and famous. "To anyone who wants to give me £10 million, I will give my full life story," she told the London Daily Mail. "My story is worth it because I am married to the son of Osama bin Laden." No one took up the offer, but the details of her colorful past soon made the papers: her five previous marriages, including one to a Hells Angel, her adoption of the title "Lady," the spider-web tattoo across her back.
Since returning to Saudi Arabia shortly before the attacks of 2001, Omar has struggled to make a living, an injustice that cuts him to the quick. He had assumed that he would slide effortlessly into the life of private jets and luxurious homes enjoyed by his wealthy Saudi relatives, but instead, he was forced to work for the family as a real estate agent, on commission. "Saudi families are afraid to be around me," he says. "That was why I couldn't marry one of my cousins or a Saudi girl from my class. I got refused seven times, from people at the same level as my family." He managed to amass several hundred thousand dollars by starting a scrap-metal business (Jeddah), but for a bin Laden accustomed to vast wealth, such a sum was a pittance. Haunted by his father's misdeeds and unable to make a name for himself, he plunged into a deep depression.
Today, Omar prides himself on his ability to show his teeth when he laughs. His sense of humor, such as it is, tends to run to the dark side: At one point, he offers up a "funny story" about a slutty female dog that ends with her jealous mate tearing apart his rivals. With any luck, Omar hopes to write comedy one day. "Why not?" he asks. "I love Jim Carrey. He is brilliant man. Comedy for me is about adult with children mentality, and children with adult mentality. Jim Carrey is adult, but he doesn't take it seriously. He doesn't have to be respectable man."
Forbidden to watch movies or television, he improvised. When Omar caught the bus to school in Khartoum, he had one of his friends recite entire scenes from Rambo line by line while he imagined what the onscreen action might look like.
"Tell him the story about meeting Sylvester Stallone," Zaina says. "I met Rambo in Rome," Omar says with a smile. He had traveled to the city with Zaina in 2008, to appear on an Italian television show. "He lied about us," Zaina says.
"Until I met him, he was one of my heroes. I thought he would be a friendly man. But he doesn't care about anyone around." We were staying at one of the best hotels in Rome," Zaina says. "The owner asked if I would like to meet him. I said sure, just to say hello. But he wouldn't look at me. He wouldn't answer when I tried to introduce myself. The owner of the hotel was embarrassed. Later, in a British newspaper, he said that I was son of Hitler."
"He said he was disgusted to be in the same room with bin Laden," Zaina says. "It was unbelievable." more from this source.................
Bill Warner Director of CSPI..Covert Surveillance by Private Investigators at WBI Inc.