On a typically humid November day in the Red Sea coastal city of Jeddah — the Kingdom’s second largest city after Riyadh and home to a great many number of both Arab and non-Arab expatriates — the expected once-a-year downpour that usually creates an air of festivity and distraction produced a wholly different outcome as flooding of unprecedented scale occurred, killing 125 with as many as 350 people missing.
In the aftermath of the sporadic rains that hit this consistently warm city on Nov. 25, 2009, residents were still trying to make sense of why destruction of disproportionate measure was wrought on an otherwise dry and often drought-ridden landscape. In an ironic twist of fate, the rain came at a time when the Kingdom was inundated with an influx of pilgrims from all over the world who had come to perform the obligatory Haj pilgrimage, one of the five pillars of Islam. In fact, the day the storm hit coincided with the day pilgrims were setting up camp at Mina in preparation for Haj. Mercifully, the rainfall in Makkah was light and in tune with the precarious situation pilgrims are afflicted with every year — basic tents, viruses of all sorts and potential stampeding.
Such was not the case in Jeddah, where a highly exaggerated scene of destruction could be witnessed in the northern districts of Quwaiza, Kilo 14 and the Jamia District. E-mails and footage depicting the destruction of thousands of cars piled on top of one another were widely circulated, with many believed to have drowned inside their cars or hit by the sheer force of the waters descending downhill. These are mostly middle class neighborhoods with the poorer households concentrated in the Quwaiza District, the worst hit by far. A code black was called in hospitals in both Jeddah and Makkah as they included rainfall in the category of natural disasters.
Amongst the missing were a considerable number of foreigners — four Yemenis, three Indians, two Sudanese, one Moroccan and one Kuwaiti.
At the time of the disaster, there was widespread consensus amongst the general public that the death toll would have hit the 500 mark had it not been for the lost and those who may have been hastily buried in accordance with Islamic tradition.
While the poor districts of Quwaiza and Kilo 14 were the most common scenes of destruction owing to their precarious locations, the facilities at King Abdul Aziz University, situated not far from these districts, were almost completely destroyed. This led to the publication of a report citing losses of nearly £270 million in equipment at the time. Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques King Abdullah, subsequently, ordered a formal investigation into the events of that day and pledged full compensation for those affected.
As I enter the middle class neighborhood of Quwaiza 10 months on, I expect to witness a reminder, however faint, of the images that circulated over the Internet toward the end of November and beginning of December, depicting destruction and ill-preparation for rarely occurring torrential rains. Instead, what I found was a remarkably well-kept district that had seemingly made as close to a full recovery as can be expected. It was a far cry from the chaos that took over this and other poorer areas of Jeddah as little as 10 months ago.
I scour the area for a good 20 minutes in search of some evidence of a tardy reconstruction project or remnants of an unusual incident. A teacher at a boy’s elementary school tells me that the school had been fully compensated and refurbished and that I’d come too late. He praised the standard of accommodation they were provided with for the 2 months his family and many others had fled their inundated homes. An owner of a small mechanics store tells me he incurred losses of SR70,000 and that he was fully compensated by the government within a month of the disaster.
More surprising was the apparent lack of concern or preparation for another possible downpour this year. I ask about the surrounding landscape — the sloping roads that enabled the water to invade the neighborhood and produce an exaggerated scene of destruction — only to be passively informed of barricades that may be instated at the foot of the slopes. The consensus amongst the shop owners and residents with whom I spoke was a helpless prayer that it would be the first and last time anything out of the ordinary would disrupt their urgent routines to earn their livelihoods and make ends meet. The only concern that surfaced, from one shop owner, was the forecasted high humidity for the coming months and the unfilled ditches in the surrounding underdeveloped area.
Otherwise, life has indeed returned to normal in Quwaiza and the university district where life’s hardships are — perhaps impressively — only modestly apparent.
