Hamsa al-Sonosi’s new red Range Rover has been sitting in her driveway for two months, its engine only started for brief, furtive trips around the block. Just after midnight on Saturday, both Sonosi and her car will no longer have to hide.

A goal she had aspired to for most of her life – to drive herself wherever she pleased – will become a reality for Sonosi, as well as for a selected minority of other women in Saudi Arabia, who for the first time will legally be able to take to the roads.

“I didn’t think I’d see this day in my lifetime,” said Sonosi, in her home office, surrounded by equally enthusiastic friends. “People have come back from abroad for this day alone. It’s momentous.”

The much-heralded move is the centrepiece of a reform programme that has reached previously forbidden corners of the rigid kingdom, stripping away decades of repression that severely limited women’s role in society and left Saudi Arabia as the last country in the world where women were banned from driving.

The overturning of the ban has been used by the country’s leaders as a marker of a new era, with repressive social conservatism ostensibly replaced by newly bestowed rights. Not long ago, images of women behind the wheel caused conniptions in the kingdom. Now, photos of beaming women holding driving licences are being used to herald lasting change.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Sonosi holds up her newly issued driving licence. Photograph: David Levene/The Guardian

Sonosi is one of 30 women in Jeddah, the kingdom’s second city, to have been granted a licence. Many thousands more have applied. Those allowed to drive have been carefully selected. The politics of women driving, and who gets to claim credit for it, has become increasingly loaded.

Up to 17 Saudi women at the forefront of the campaign have been detained in the past two months. Nine remain in prison, among them prominent activists accused of undermining the kingdom and aiding its enemies. Several have been accused of “treason” by state-run newspapers.

Those released have been told not to talk to foreigners, prompting a belief among many Saudis that their detention was more about who gets to claim credit for the move.

“This has to be seen to come from the top,” said one prominent activist. “It must be a gift from the rulers, not the result of grassroots pressure. They don’t want to look like they bowed to a specific demand.”

Human Rights Watch claimed this week that two more women, Nouf Abdelaziz and Mayaa al-Zahrani, had been arrested Before apparently being detained, Abdelaziz had written: “I am not a provoker, not a vandaliser, not a terrorist, a criminal or a traitor. I have never been [anything] but a good citizen who loves her country and wishes for it nothing but the best.”

In Sonosi’s home, she and her friends were sceptical. “They did not go to jail because they were females who were active on social media, the government released a statement that they were dealing with foreign powers,” she said. “The Saudi government would not take a risk like this at a time when they are trying to change their image.”

Kholood al-Ghamdi, 30, had returned to Saudi Arabia for the first time in four years from her studies in California to witness the day. “I like macho cars, and motorbikes,” she said. “I get a lot of speeding tickets. When I saw the changes taking place here, it made me cry.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Sonosi risks taking her Range Rover for a quick spin around the block near her home. Photograph: David Levene/The Guardian

In a Jeddah coffee shop, two other Saudi women said they too were excited at the change, but reluctant to embrace it themselves. “I haven’t taken my driving lessons yet nor have I applied for a licence, said Rua, 26. “Of course I’m excited that women are now able to drive but I’m a bit wary. I’m not psychologically ready for something like this. My parents are supportive but I’m still in the process of preparing myself.”

Wafaa, 28, was also enthusiastic. “It’s been a long time coming,” she said. “We are all excited and so are my parents but I’m not very keen on being the first one to drive on Sunday. I’d rather wait and see how it’s all going to go. Let’s see how the society is going to take it. When I feel safe enough I’ll get behind the wheel.”

Back in Sonosi’s well-to-do district, the merits of being allowed to drive were overriding societal concerns. “It is more than having a key to your own car,” she said. “Women can finally be independent from their own families. Mothers can enjoy simple things, like taking her kids to school. Salaries for drivers can be expensive. This is empowering for women. It gives comfort and independence.”

Driving schools around Saudi Arabia are reporting increased interest, and car dealers a spike in sales – mostly to men, who have passed on their purchases to wives or daughters. The rollout of licences has so far been methodical; even in more open times, state control remains tight.

In government offices, there remains widespread wariness about the lifting of the ban. Some clerics have expressed beliefs that women are not psychologically competent to drive. Private conversations with some men can quickly turn to muttered resentment about the changes afoot. At Jeddah airport, a passport control officer said: “Our women are excited. We’re scared. God knows the accidents that will happen but let them. They’ve been nagging us for ages and now they got what they wanted. It’s time for them to take care and spoil us now.”

Additional reporting by Nadia al-Faour