Do you ever miss the old neighbourhood you grew up in? I miss mine immensely. My family used to live in Khalidiya, and I can vividly remember going to the grocery store next door in my colourful flip-flops and spending a great deal of time outside with my siblings playing and exploring. Sometimes, we would play outside with other children.
Now, whenever I drive through that area, it makes me feel nostalgic, but it also saddens me that the area I grew up in has undergone quite a renovation. Modern buildings, villas and shops have taken away my “home”, at least as I knew it.
But last week, a trip to Fujairah revived my childhood love of exploring. I went there with a colleague, Reem Saeed, an Emirati photographer who had generously offered me an excellent idea for feature coverage in the emirate. Saeed is renowned for her documentation of old neighbourhoods in the Northern Emirates and across the UAE.
I’ve been a big fan of her work and images of the old neighbourhoods, particularly those taken in Fujairah and Ras Al Khaimah, because they bring back happy memories. When I scroll through her pictures and see things such as a beautiful pond in Ras Al Khaimah, I often wonder if such a place still exists in the UAE.
To me, the pictures speak a thousand words. Many times, they transport me back to my early years – the colours, the random people and children, all masterfully captured.
As we made our way to Fujairah, I was mesmerised by the natural beauty surrounding me. The mountains looked resplendent in morning sun, and the sight of greenery and traditional houses added to my delight. I was overwhelmed by images of past lifestyles and the rich history I could see.
This was my first time properly exploring Fujairah, and after more than an hour in the car from Dubai, we arrived at Shaikhah Al Kindi’s house in Al Bathnah.
Life and infrastructure is completely different in Fujairah. Her house wasn’t easy to find, sandwiched between the old neighbourhood and a new villa. While we were there, we noticed that Al Kindi’s life is not easy.
When I entered the 65-year-old woman’s house, I was dumbfounded – kitchen utensils were spread on the ground to dry naturally. The house was very old and in poor condition. But I was excited to meet this lady and her friend, and privileged to be let into their lives.
One of my friends once told me: "Journalism is a noble job." While I was interviewing Al Kindi and her friend, my friend's words rang in my ear. I'm thankful that journalism helps to give a voice to the voiceless. Look out for Al Kindi's full story and pictures in The National.
Asmaa Al Hameli is a features writer for The National.
If you have a good story to tell or an interesting issue to debate, contact Melinda Healy on mhealy@thenational.ae.
