A family’s quiet struggle for survival

Rym Tina Ghazal

• Last Updated: April 16. 2008 7:35PM UAE / April 16. 2008 3:35PM GMT

Beyond the bustling coastline popular with tourists and just off the major roads, the cluttered neighbourhoods of traditional homes in Fujairah quietly struggle to keep pace with the rest of the UAE.

“When the other emirates dance and cheer with the falling of rain, we cringe and worry as we will not be able to reach our homes,” Moza Farhan al Kaabi said, peering through her copper-coloured burka at the twisted, unpaved, sandy roads in front of her home.

The challenges facing Emiratis in Fujairah came to light in June last year, when the popular tourist spot suffered one of its biggest natural disasters, Cyclone Gonu.

“We are just so isolated from the rest of the Emirates that sometimes people forget about us,” said Mrs Kaabi.

In her late 50s and a mother of 11, she held a television remote control as her children, their spouses and her grandchildren – 22 in total – crowded around to watch the popular Emirati 3D-animated series, Freej.

“[This is] one of the only shows that really talks about our way of life. And the things that we, the typical Emiratis, struggle with.”

In this episode, Freej followed the main characters – a group of elderly, burka-wearing women – as they struggled to buy fish at a reasonable price, an issue families in Fujairah are familiar with.

“The people of Fujairah are fishermen and farmers, and so we rely heavily on these markets,” said Mrs Kaabi, who wakes at 6am every day to get the best deals at the fish and vegetable markets.

“We are content, we were raised to be grateful and not [to] run after things that we can’t afford.”

Her single-storey house is a maze of boxes, trinkets and clutter. Each of the five bedrooms has a television, complete with piles of shoes and clothes. The kitchen contains two large metallic storage cupboards, each filled with canned food and mismatched utensils.

The Kaabi family has four maids to help them with the massive amount of ironing and cooking that takes place on a daily basis. Each maid is paid between Dh600 (US$164) to Dh700 a month.

The head of the family is Mrs Kaabi’s husband, Mohammed. A farmer, he makes about Dh3,000 a month. His sons help with the household expenses, which raises the total household disposable income to between Dh6,000 to Dh7,000 a month.

Four of the family’s children are married and all of them live at home in what they call “self-built extensions” – a bedroom and a tiny living room built in the backyard.

“If we had oil, then everything would change,” said Rashid, one of Mrs Kaabi’s sons, who was recently married.

“I applied for housing a couple of years ago and I am still waiting,” the engineer, 31, said. “There is absolutely no privacy.”

The family eat lunch and dinner on the floor of the main living room. Meals are served from massive pots and pans filled with traditional dishes, including threed – a mix of rice, dried bread and meat – boiled crabs, fish and chicken stew.

“Vimto?” asked Aysha, the eldest daughter, as she poured everyone the local soft drink.

“All the families here are in the same boat. We are all looking for good jobs, good hospitals and new homes.” said Aysha, who teaches at a local school, has been married for two years and is also waiting for a new house.

“There is too much neglect for this part of the Emirates,” the Kaabi family said in unity.

Two of Mrs Kaabi’s children have died, she said, because of a lack of access to good hospitals.

“Things are a bit better now, but still the main hospitals are 20 to 30 minutes away, which is too far in case of a life-threatening situation,” said Mrs Kaabi.

Despite the underdeveloped transport system and the growing housing shortage for Emiratis, the Kaabi family tries to keep itself entertained in an area that lacks malls, parks and cinemas.

“I have never been to a cinema,” said Mrs Kaabi, who visits Dubai once or twice a month with her children for shopping and a “break”.

Aysha said: “We are just so isolated here and the trip to the rest of the Emirates is so long, that we just end up staying at home and visiting our family and neighbours.”

Her brother, Rashid added: “We are behind 10 years compared with the rest of the Emirates, which is good and bad. Good, as we still maintain a lot of traditions and protect each other, and bad, from the economic sense. We are still a village.”

Despite the obvious failings in development, Mrs Kaabi, who has lived in the same home for 30 years, is happy. She said with a smile: “I have all my children here with me. How many city mothers can say that?”


rghazal@thenational.ae