It was an ordinary school run in the morning. My kids were chattering animatedly about everyday things when suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a small white saloon jumped a red light at full speed ahead of ours. Everything became a blur in slow motion. Another car was turning right as the light on its side was green and then it happened: The inevitable almighty crash. The sole occupant of the offending vehicle was dressed in full khaki uniform and began writhing in severe pain in the driver’s seat. Some passers-by pulled him out onto the tarmac as his mouth spewed blood and his facial features became contorted in extreme agony while the engine of his car caught fire in the background.
Those riding in the other truck had also suffered injuries but didn’t appear to be critical. They too were hauled out of their car.
Traffic stopped on both sides of Riyadh’s King Abdul Aziz Road as the wail of sirens blared in the distance. People took up prime vantage positions on the central reservation abandoning their vehicles and blocking the entire stretch of thoroughfare as they stared aimlessly at the unfolding tragedy. My girls looked on in horror and burst into tears at the sight of the wretched officer who had by this time stopped moving altogether, his expression frozen in death.
The emergency services arrived within minutes and the body was unceremoniously loaded onto a stretcher, covered with a white sheet and carried to a waiting ambulance while the rest of the wounded were tended to. The whole episode lasted not more than half an hour in which one life was lost and several others must have been devastated by its untimely departure.
When I returned to pick the children up later that afternoon, the blood stains had been diligently mopped up, the shards of glass cleared away and the wreckage removed from the scene. I wondered about who the deceased had been. Whether he had been married, had children and what mundane thoughts he must have been thinking on his way to work that morning when his life had prematurely been cut short in a matter of seconds. I mourned his death thinking in a detached sort of manner that it could have been me, or someone dear to me, for the roads of this country are an indiscriminate death trap for all of us. Fatalities due to road accidents are so commonplace here that they have, in effect, become nothing to write home about.
A few weeks ago I had visited Makkah with my parents. We had stayed in a hotel that was a few moments walking distance from the back gate of the Holy Kaaba, within the vicinity of the Grand Mosque. As we meandered down one of the side streets after prayers, my father commented on the precarious state of some of the buildings that, outwardly at least, appeared dilapidated and in dire need of an overhaul. The contrast between these and the huge modern towers that flanked them was really quite striking. “It’s strange why these buildings aren’t knocked down,” he said.
When the residential complex collapsed recently in Makkah, I felt appalled by the terrible loss of life and thought about all those other rough-hewn structures we had seen that day that are still standing. The ensuing round of passing the buck of responsibility between ministries, officials and individuals is exactly why it is that such tragedies are allowed to be repeated. Instead of focusing their efforts on this rather childish pursuit of blame-ism, the concerned authorities would be far better off determining what the present safety level of other similar buildings is. Rather than waiting for disasters to happen and then engaging in self-defeating fatalism we should apply God’s Own command by safeguarding things we can in the best manner possible. After all, we are ordered to tie our camel first and then leave things up to God’s Will.
Whether it be the issue of road accidents or basic building safety regulations, the point is that there is no serious level of enforcement when it comes to applying these rules. How many of us have seen cars careening effortlessly through red lights, quite often under the gaze of the lethargic traffic police stationed at these junctions? Furthermore, how many of us have seen these potential murderers taken to task for the loss of life they could incur? I have yet to see anyone reprimanded for such a thing.
The biggest problem that we face is that although we have a framework of strictures in place, no one bothers to follow it. “And why is that?” you may ask. It is because there is a huge seemingly unbridgeable gap between theory and application. But even more pertinently than that, and as has become so patently evident through the dubious response to the Makkah incident, it is because there is a complete lack of accountability. Whether it be the police who are supposed to be meting out punishments for traffic offenses, or the municipalities who are supposed to be monitoring standards for construction works, when something goes wrong no one takes responsibility. Such an ethos invariably filters down into society. People will drive like maniacs on the roads because they know instinctively that they can. They won’t be held liable for their conduct. Unscrupulous businessmen will take shortcuts when it comes to matters of safety because they know someone in a position of power who will ratify their plans.
I for one am sick of being put at risk because there are too many people who are not prepared to do their job. There need to be extremely tough penalties applied to such individuals and institutions if such outrageous practices are to become a thing of the past. If we are committed to ridding ourselves of the shackles of social immaturity then we have to behave like adults and start assuming responsibility for our actions and our failings. After all, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, “you cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.”
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)