Why I was happy to finally leave the UAE… for good

My dad has always, and continues to say, that moving to the UAE was one of the best decisions he’s made because of how safe the country is to raise children. My mother, on the other hand, will tell you how she can’t wait to leave and return to the ‘real world’. There’s a very clear difference in the way males and females are treated in the UAE, particularly in Abu Dhabi, and that is reflected by the two opposing opinions my parents have.

As a child, I didn’t really notice the differences. It’s really only been in the last three or four years that I’ve finally understood what my mother and her friends have been saying. Walking around a mall as a Western female, you can feel the eyes of most men and many Emirati women on you. Even if you’re wearing the appropriate clothes as I always do: a pair of jeans and a shirt with a jumper.

Many people have told me that the reason they stare is because “You’re different to them. They’ve never see Western clothes before”. That’s a bit of an exaggeration. The UAE has developed into a world-famous tourist attraction over the last two decades, Dubai in particular. There are always tourists walking around the cities, many of them from Western countries. Many Emiratis also choose to spend their summers in some of Europe’s capitals, especially London. I might be different to them, but I’m certainly not the first Westerner the locals have seen. It also doesn’t explain why I’ve been spat on by a number of local Emirati men and women. Surely if they were just curious by my Western clothes, they wouldn’t show such hatred towards me?

I’m not the only one who’s had this happen to. A girl I knew from school was told not to report a sexual harassment claim after a man followed her and tried to touch her with out her permission, as the man who harassed her was Emirati. There was no point in informing the police, as the man was never going to be charged. In fact, over 50% of women living in the United Arab Emirates have said that they would not report a rape.

There have been a number of high-profile cases of expat women reporting sexual assault, but instead being jailed themselves for extramarital sex. While some have been widely report, many more are kept quiet, particularly the cases involving Asian or African women, many of whom work as maids for families in the UAE. I’ve heard some horrific stories involving these poor women who often get treated so badly by their employers that they need emergency hospitalisation. It pains me to say that the women who end up in hospital are the luckier ones – they didn’t die from their injuries, unlike so many other women.

There is a distinct lack of women’s rights in the country. Yes, women are able to work and drive, unlike some other countries in the area. In the eyes of the law, however, they aren’t considered important. Human Rights Watch has been warning women for years about discrimination against them in Islamic law.

Favouritism towards the local people is clearly evident as well, which by default takes away from the rights of the expat workers. There have been a number of articles and documentaries on the inhumane living standards of the labourers from Asian countries, which make up the majority of the country’s population, with only a few reactions from the West. Slightly less evident however, is the lack of respect the Emiratis have for expatriates from Europe and the United States. In the last two years, electricity and water bills increased by nearly 40% for houses rented by expat families, but were subsidised for houses owned or rented by Emirati families.

Even more alarming is the lack of equality in the courts. Emiratis are often pardoned or given reduced sentences for crimes that would ordinarily result in the jailing or deportation of an expatriate.

Last February, my grandfather was visiting us for a few weeks. The evening before his flight back to Italy, he walked to the supermarket just a few streets from our house to change his money from Dirhams to Euros. Walking back, he was run over and killed on impact. Driving the car was a 16-year-old Emirati girl without a driver’s licence, who was found to have alcohol in her system. Not only was she driving underage while intoxicated, she was also driving in a car stolen from her brother, at 20mph over the speed limit. Had this accident happened to an expat they would have been jailed immediately, and once released, would have been deported. However, because it was an Emirati girl, she was taken to hospital to check for any injuries (of which she had none), and was subsequently released. She was asked to wear an ankle bracelet to monitor her movements, which was removed three days later, and her father was told to pay our family ‘blood money’. Blood money is a concept in Islamic law where money is paid to the family of the victims; the amount is based on the victim’s worth. Because no one ‘depended’ on my grandfather (both my mother and my uncle were married and had jobs), my family was paid the lowest amount for blood money.

We weren’t concerned about the money. However, we were expecting to hear from the family of the girl who had killed my grandfather, anticipating an apology. Perhaps in the form of a letter, if not in person. We received nothing.

We’re not the first family to have this happen to. When I was 14, a classmate of mine left school halfway through the term, and never returned. Several weeks later, we were told that his father had died after being run over while crossing at a red traffic light. An Emirati man had driven straight through a red light, hit my friend’s father, and continued driving. Instead of searching for the driver, the police informed his wife and children that they had a month to pack up their belongings and leave the country. They were being deported, and had no help from the government whatsoever. The driver was never found, or if he was, wasn’t trialled or given any punishment.

After hearing about such tragedies almost all my life, and then having one happen to my own family, how could I live in the country without questioning the government, knowing that they could deport us at any moment without a reason? How could I go out with my friends and have fun, knowing that Emirati men and women would be looking down on and judging us, simply because we were white?

Moving back to the UK was difficult. It took a few weeks for me to remember that I could do whatever I wanted here as long as I wasn’t breaking the law. It took a while for me to realise that no one was going to follow me, or spit on me simply for being a Westerner.

So no, I don’t miss living in the UAE. I miss my parents, my sister and my dog, but I don’t miss Abu Dhabi. I’m happy living in a country that treats its residents equally and fairly, with a (mostly) transparent government, and I don’t expect to ever live in the United Arab Emirates again.