A slave in Qatar: Mami’s Story — Chapter 3
This is based on a true story of a maid that lived in the Gulf States for many years.
Life keeps moving
Now Mami had her communication set up with Ethiopia. Every week, faithfully she would speak to her daughter. Hearing her voice gave her life. It was more difficult than she thought to be so far from her daughter. But at least now she was able to send money home that meant something. Every few months, Mami would send a portion of what she earned to her daughter and the cousin that was taking care of her. The rest she would send to a close friend to keep for her. Slowly, she was starting to build a new home in Addis, and with the hopes that she could own something one day. She would buy a small house in a crowded area in Addis, but it would be better than the real slums she had been forced to live in.
In Dubai, Mami hardly spent on herself. She had good clothes, but was fortunate that people would give her used clothes, bags and shoes. Many meals were eaten at the family house and the fresh water she drank. The company did provide a driver and the crowded accommodation, so her expenses were very little.
She could hear her daughter’s voice changing every week. It was becoming more mature. She was changing, and sometimes she wanted to tell her mother everything and then there were times she was quiet. In those times where it was hard to reach her, she would find out later she was having problems in school. She wasn’t always attending classes. She had friends that would do the same thing and she would spend the day with them. This enraged Mami, and she would spend time talking to her, speaking to her cousin to watch over this. Her cousin had 5 children of her own, most were older but there was one boy that was just a year older than Serkalem, that became her friend.
The times that Mami saw parts of Dubai she was amazed and somehow overwhelmed. The malls were enormous, clean and bright. Dubai mall had an enormous aquarium with beautiful fish that she would get lost in as she followed them around the tank. Sometimes she would escort the children to kidzania in Dubai mall, which was a place where children could act out many careers. This was gorgeous and like nothing she had ever seen. Kids could mock fly airplanes, or cook real food, or spend their money in any way they want in the mini village set up for her. To her, it didn’t seem realistic. It was not a world that she grew up in, and she would discipline the children when they would complain about things when there. She could not understand it, and tried not to compare her precious daughter that she left behind in Ethiopia for these children that had so much, but took it for granted. She was genuinely not a jealous person, and loved all children of her love for children with their selfishness.
The mall was full of shops with overpriced items that she could not afford. When she went inside, she was normally ignored in any case. When she was escorting the family her job was to carry bags for them, while dressed in the pajama uniform that very clearly indicated their status. The lady of the house didn’t even carry her own coffee. She only carried a small dainty purse that was brightly coloured against her black abaya. If she chose to drink a Starbucks coffee, it was Mami, or one of the other maids that would trail behind her carrying the hot expensive liquid that cost more than 3 days worth of meals for them. Sometimes Mami would see other Ethiopians in the mall and some were there working, with professional jobs. They were so neatly dressed and walked with confidence. Mami felt they were there because they had more education, and it was a constant reminder to her that this was what she wanted for her daughter. Her daughter would walk with confidence one day, and have the chance to get a good job in Ethiopia, maybe in the North America or Australia, or if nothing else, than in the Gulf. Although Mami could see there was money to be made in the Gulf, she did not feel this was a place that were daughter would ever be respected, even with a respectable job. But the Gulf was helping her in many ways. She would not complain because it was more than she ever had.
The time had now come where Mami was able to go back to Ethiopia for a visit. Her visit to Ethiopia cost her a great deal of her savings, but she had to see Serkalem. She could not bear it any longer and needed to see her daughter for herself. This would be the first vacation Mami had taken in her entire time working in Dubai. She basically worked 7 days a week, with occasional days of rest when the family went on vacation without her. This was the first time she had time to herself, and she was beside herself for the chance to see her daughter again. Her eyes filled with tears the entire plane ride home.
Serkalem had grown quite a bit. She looked more woman than child at 11 years old. She continued to dislike school, continued to stay with her friends that roamed the streets more than anything. They had many fights over this, but Serkalem blamed her mother. She told her at least her friends were with her, not far away in a rich country enjoying her new life, leaving her alone. Mami sat her down and tried her best to explain to her why she was there, and that she certainly wasn’t having fun and it made some impact at least. More than any phone call would have. It was hard. Hard for everyone involved. There were so many benefits, yet so many sacrifices. Mami opened a bank account while she was there. She now could and it was the best way for her to save her money. She felt more prepared on her return to Dubai, more focussed on her goals.
After 2 years in Dubai, Mami started to notice changes. There were less foreigners than there had been when she had first arrived there. The economy was in a decline and had many people worried. Many businesses were closing down. Many of her friends that were also working in her company were being sent home, because they worked for expats that were heading home, and there were no other jobs for them. She started to feel extremely insecure.
Her manager spoke to all of them about the situation, and confirmed that the business was slowly dying. Dubai’s financial troubles, which became more clear every year despite building huge marvels like Burj el Khalifa.[1] He told them that their affiliate company in Qatar was still in need of new people, and they could get transferred there quite easily.
Mami became fearful again, having just settled into her current life in Dubai. As much as she missed her daughter, she knew a permanent return to Ethiopia at this point would have no meaning. She had lost her somewhat permanent job there, she had not saved much and, like her visit home 2 months before, people had started to treat her like a millionaire. People that had never paid attention to her
would now speak to her, and boldly ask for loans or gifts of money. It was not time to go home, and Qatar seemed to hold a better future. She volunteered herself for the transfer.
Within 2 weeks, Mami headed to the tiny emirate of Qatar. The airplane trip ended before it even seemed to begin. It was very close, and landing in Doha was a very different experience from landing in Dubai. Doha seemed empty and impossible to forget you were in a desert. The airport was smaller and more relaxed. There weren’t as many high buildings though there was construction almost everywhere. Doha was starting fresh, and maybe she too, could start fresh. Mami now hoped that with the smaller town, a more simple life would also follow. She had no idea of what to expect of Qatar, but she was ready for a new beginning, with new hopes that now she would have the chance to make a better future for her daughter and her.
[1] Burj al Khalifa was being built at the time Mami was in Dubai, destined to be the World’s tallest freestanding structure. The first few years there were major concerns with electricity and other functions in part due to the financial crisis.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8| Poem Growing Roots in the sand
Originally posted on my blog [http://tinyurl.com/a-slave-in-qatar-3]