When we consider or muse on the expatriates in this country, we rarely pause to ponder beyond the individual. Whether he has a personal life, family or offspring, or whether he deals with individual family issues like you and me rarely crops up in our thoughts. Yet they do exist, these families of expats, silently supportive and often sacrificing. And while perks and privileges often buffer the sacrifices of western expatriates, it is our friends from the Middle East and Asia that, by nature of their family ties, suffer the most.
In this context, an edited contribution by Mr. Zafar Bari is the theme of this week’s column.
“During the boom years in the Arabian Gulf countries and when jobs were aplenty and lucrative too, many Arabs and non-Arabs shifted their families to the region.
“A better standard of living, uninterrupted water and electricity supply, safety and security and good health facilities motivated them to stay on. Another major motivating factor was that many Asian families chose to live in this country near the holy places and in an environment where Islam was visible in practice.
“There were several advantages of living in the Gulf. Even the less qualified Asians secured decent jobs and salaries. Many were able to erect huge bungalows in their home countries. They were able to help their kith and kin raise their standards of living. With Gulf earned money they were able to carry out the task of educating and marrying off their daughters and sisters, a great task considering the cultural milieu of the subcontinent.
“However, with these advantages there were quite a few problems attached to living here. In the early eighties for example, many expatriate communities had no schools. The ones that came up provided substandard education. Bored housewives doubled up as teachers and administrators. The socializing process of the children also suffered, as there could be only limited peer group interaction. They were virtually cut of from their extended families. The worst hit were those who sent their children to Arabic schools.
“These children did not find complete acceptance with the locals because they were foreigners. Sadly, their own kith and kin rejected them too because they had picked up strange habits and tastes. They belonged neither here nor there. The unluckier ones among them ended up spending a good part of their lives in the hostels or boarding schools in distant lands, away from the warmth and comfort of a family atmosphere.
“After high school they were not accepted in colleges of the host countries despite scoring well in the exams. In their home countries, the whole system of education was different. Despite all these problems, these families held on. They hoped that some day the laws would change and they would get the nationality, something taken for granted in most of the developed nations.
“The strict business laws and high risks ensured that the expatriate made no investment in the host countries. With little foresight, billions of dollars could have been stopped from draining out of the oil-rich countries. The wise and the lucky ones adopted the go-west policy.
“As each year neared its end, the heads of the families experienced extreme anxiety fearing that their contracts might not be renewed or they would be browbeaten to accept less desirable terms and conditions. This anxiety trickled down to the other members of the family, mainly their kids. Each year, hordes of families had to leave because their services were no longer required. The end of contract compensation being less, these families were left in the lurch. These people were too young to retire and too old to be hired again.
“It might have been a bit easier for the Arab families because of a common set of cultural values. But, for the South Asians particularly, if it was difficult leaving, it was worse settling down or rehabilitating themselves in their home countries. The men had become too weak to struggle in the mad business environment back home. The women had become too obese, asthmatic, diabetic and irritable. The men, of course, shared all this and more.
“Some men resorted to sending their families, to the home countries with disastrous results. Lack of guidance and a relatively easy access to money halted or constricted educational achievements of their wards. There were some children who did well and for others their parents bought them seats in the Medical and Engineering colleges in the homeland. But most suffered, destined to be forever lost.
“These boys and girls, who had been born and brought up here; who spoke the local language; who fought over which soccer club would win; who could drive cars as recklessly as their neighbors could; who knew how to wear a ghutra and a shimagh and prevent it from falling too, these kids who preferred Gahwa to tea, and whose mothers had developed the act of cooking local Kabsa into a fine art, the pain of leaving the only country they knew was frightful and harrowing. They are forever destined to remain ‘Nowhere’s Children’.” — Tariq A. Al-Maeena([email protected])