by Leslie North
Some of the others began to fidget audibly and he watched Candace lean toward Rebecca to say something to her, but she held up her hand and Candace backed off. It looked as though she was just getting started.
“You know, Sheikh Zaid,” Rebecca said, “you keep giving us great promises in your answers, but I see now that you really have no idea what’s going on. I’m willing to bet that you didn’t know that thousands of mostly migrant workers live in squalid conditions right here in Sharjah. Because they are classified as migrant workers, they are beyond the reach of your labor board’s regulations. Dozens of these workers were deported for protesting their squalid conditions.”
As Rebecca talked, Zaid could hear the other members of the tour grumble louder as some began to talk amongst themselves. Looking around, he was surprised to see that two of them had pulled out their cell phones and were recording their interaction.
Alacabak stepped up to address her accusations. “Claims made on behalf of undocumented migrant workers are hard to prove precisely because they are undocumented,” he said. “UAE law provides for penalties against companies who use too many migrant workers. We take these claims very seriously, specifically because of the work each Emirate has done to ensure the safety and well-being of our workforce. I currently oversee investigations into migrant complaints here in Sharjah, and so far, my team of labor board investigators has only been able to prove a handful of claims. Those employers have faced hefty fines and increased scrutiny because of their labor violations.”
Zaid couldn’t believe what Rebecca had claimed. He felt comforted by Alacabak’s response, but he was still concerned over the numbers Rebecca had thrown out. He looked around the room, and it seemed that everyone else was glad to accept the advisor’s rebuttal and calmed down. After being called out in front of the group, Zaid didn’t feel much like taking them on a tour of the facilities.
The Sheikh halfheartedly led the diplomatic tour through the facilities at the complex, showing them the state of the art conference rooms and fitness facilities, bracing himself for another of Rebecca’s tirades about the flaws with the conference center. Fortunately, they never came. If anything, she seemed to be avoiding him. When lunchtime finally rolled around, he led the group to the cafeteria where they could choose what they wanted to eat from several different food serving stations. Once the group sat down with their meals, he walked by Rebecca and tapped her arm, staring down at her.
“Uh-oh, I think I’m in trouble,” she teased, drawing laughter from the other delegates at her table.
Zaid didn’t bother to reply and simply continued walking past the table, knowing she would follow. He stepped into the hallway outside the cafeteria and waited for her.
A few moments later, he saw her petite frame emerge from the cafeteria. She wore a suit with pants instead of a skirt today. Watching her walk his way, he kicked himself for being mad at her. He didn’t want to be angry with her, though after the way she’d run from him the night before, it was hard not to be a little hurt. He wanted to whisk her away from the conference center and take her back to his quarters at the palace. He wanted to forget her challenges to his authority. But he couldn’t forget, and he couldn’t keep letting it slide.
He also couldn’t keep ignoring what she was trying to tell him. He trusted her more than he did Alacabak, and as soothing as Alacabak’s answers were, Rebecca’s words were starting to get through to him. The numbers and reports were starting to make him realize that there was a problem beyond the reach of the labor board and their regulations.
“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you want,” Rebecca said as soon as she approached him.
“I’m not looking for an apology,” he insisted. “What I’m looking for is some respect.”
“You’ve got to work for that, Zaid,” she said. “You don’t earn it by default just because you’re one of the Sheikhs of Sharjah. Not in today’s world. In today’s world, Zaid, your actions earn respect.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What I mean is I want you to stop attacking me in public. You could have brought those figures to me in private. You’ve had ample opportunity when you could have done so instead of choosing to make it public,” he said.
“Would you have listened? You can’t simply ignore what is going on outside the palace walls and assume that everything is okay based on some monthly reports you might receive. Those migrant workers are being mistreated right under your nose and if you don’t fix their problems, they will eventually come to fix you.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Believe it or not, Zaid, I don’t want to see that happen. By helping these people, you will help your family continue to prosper here in Sharjah.”
“And I keep telling you that we’re trying to help by investing in those sections of Sharjah where people are suffering.” He’d been thinking about the investments in Rajak and Timina a lot since Rebecca had brought them up. They’d already pumped a lot of money into those neighborhoods. They should have been doing much better than it seemed they were.
He added, “The investments we need won’t happen if we run the investors off by talking about the people who fall through the cracks, the ones who aren’t supported by the laws. Our only hope to fix what’s wrong with those people is to lift them back up through the cracks, back to the surface so to speak.”
“You’re going to be angry with me for what I’m about say, Zaid,” Rebecca told him. “Not once have you mentioned sharing any of the Sultan’s money to help these people. You could pay to improve infrastructure and housing in the short term while you work to bring in more jobs for the long term, and that could potentially drag them out of poverty ahead of schedule.”
Zaid laughed. “We didn’t introduce prosperity to the Emirate at large by sharing royal money. We introduced foreign investors and foreign companies. As the jobs came in and the labor board issued protections for registered workers, the wealth of the average Emirati grew immensely. We will only continue that work by introducing more jobs for the rest of our people.”
“Then do it,” she challenged. “Show these people why you need their investments and their jobs. Show them what would happen over here if you didn’t have a way to pay workers or provide benefits. Show them why foreign money has helped more than the Sultan’s money. That is, unless you think there is something wrong with the way you’ve been doing it.” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Rebecca,” Zaid finally said.
“Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of this,” she said.
“No, it’s a good deal. If you stop derailing the tour in front of the delegates visiting us, I will take you on a personal, private tour of Rajak and Timina. I will show you what we’ve done to help and how much work remains to be done,” he said. It sounded like a reasonable solution to him and despite the way the previous night had ended, despite what she’d done today; he still wanted to spend time with her.
She didn’t even hesitate before flashing him that wide, gorgeous smile of hers.
“I’ll do it,” Rebecca said, holding out a small hand for him to shake.
He took her hand and fought the urge to pull her to him and forget all that they’d just talked about. He wanted to get lost in her red hair and her blue eyes. He wanted to tour her body instead of the poor sections of Sharjah, but he’d already agreed.
9
They returned to the cafeteria at the conference center. As lunch drew to a close, Zaid stood up in front of the group.
“Thank you again for joining us here today at the Sharjah Sports Complex and Conference Center. I hope this illustrates for you the types of things we’re trying to do for our community and for the companies who wish to do business here. Now, Alacabak is going to accompany you to the newest holiday resort in Sharjah. The only reason you aren’t staying there is that it was booked solid for the first three years before it opened.”
Dark-haired Candace, the lead representative, who apparently th
ought she had a chance with Zaid, raised her hand to speak. “Where will you be, Sheikh Zaid?”
“Palace business. I will see all of you later.” That response seemed to satisfy the group, but Rebecca knew there was more to it. She fervently hoped that by touring Rajak and Timina, he would finally see that there was much to do there.
As the group left with Alacabak for the resort, Zaid motioned for Rebecca to remain.
“What? I don’t get to see the resort too?” she teased.
“And have you start questioning the workers to find out their migrant status? No. We have our own tour to conduct. Come.”
Standing, Rebecca walked with him back to the front of the complex where she found three black SUVs waiting with their engines running. Guiding her to the middle vehicle, a security guard stepped out of the passenger side to hold the door open for them.
Rebecca sat silently next to Zaid as they drove out to Timina. She watched as the nice, modern architecture of Sharjah turned ugly. She could tell as soon as they were in Timina. It was as if they’d crossed a line. On one side, everything was clean, new, and expensive. On the other side, the old buildings and the people lingering on the streets in front of them looked worn down and crumbling.
Rebecca had known what they might see, but Zaid had acted like he didn’t believe this kind of poverty existed in Sharjah. He lived in a palace. He worked with businessmen and within the confines of the government. He probably believed they were doing great things through the labor board and through investments into the community. But while the laws they wrote worked wonders for many citizens in the Emirate, there were people still beyond their reach. Rebecca wanted him to see those people and to wake up to the all-too-real problems facing many workers in Sharjah.
Zaid’s reaction to the striking picture of poverty before them was even more dramatic than she had expected. Not long after they entered Timina, he turned to her with tears in his eyes. “Where do they all come from?” he asked her, his voice barely above a whisper. People wandered the streets aimlessly while others sat in doorways. Women were cooking outside over fires. And the children. Even Rebecca caught her breath at seeing so many children and none of them were playing. It was as though they’d forgotten how, or never learned.
“Stop the car,” he ordered the driver. “Stop and let us out.”
The driver pulled into the parking lot of a small, closed restaurant and let them out. They were flanked by two armed security guards while others seemed to disappear into the crowds of unwashed. “Just in case we run into anymore guys like we saw in Rajak,” he told her. “But we’re going to take the streets. I want to see what’s going on here. I don’t want to look at it from the safety of the SUV. Let’s go.”
The people they passed ignored them as if they weren’t even there, which gave Zaid the opportunity to stare at them. Rebecca watched as he moved slowly down the street. They passed a young mother, walking with her two small children. They were carrying bags from the Souq but it was evident from their malnourished condition that there wasn’t enough in the bags to feed them for more than a meal although Rebecca suspected that the mother would strive to make what meager food they had last to the end of the week.
“I don’t understand how it could be this bad,” Zaid said in protest. “We’ve pumped so much money into Timina over the years. It doesn’t make sense. Funds have been put aside for revitalization projects. We’ve tried to foster business growth, but looking around; I don’t see any of that.”
“Where does the money go, exactly?” Rebecca asked. “Is there a person or committee that handles the money for projects in Timina?”
“Alacabak,” Zaid said. “In fact, he is in charge of both Rajak and Timina.”
“Well, it’s hardly my place, Zaid, but it looks like you need to start checking where that money is going if it’s not making it where it’s supposed to be,” Rebecca told him.
“I’m starting to think you’re right,” he agreed.
“I’ve known it for some time that I was right. That was one of the reasons I agreed to take the assignment when they offered it to me. My goal was to get whoever was heading the tour to listen to me on this and start making some real changes.”
They came up to a girl sitting on the side of the street crying over a spot on her knee.
“Hold on,” Rebecca said, pulling a couple of bandages out of her bag and kneeling down next to the little girl.
“What are you doing?” Zaid asked her. “She might need medical attention,” he told her. “We can get someone here to take care of her.”
“It’s okay,” she told the girl while Zaid tried to talk her out of helping. “I’m here to help. You don’t listen to him, okay. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with you,” she told the little girl in Arabic.
She looked back up at Zaid. “It’s just a scrape. If we clean it off really well and put a bandage on it, she’ll be fine.”
She turned her attention back to the girl and pulled some antiseptic spray out of her bag. “This is going to be cold, okay? But once that wears off, it won’t hurt anymore.” She sprayed a light layer over the girl’s knee and gently placed a bandage over it. She ran a hand through the girl’s dirty, matted dark hair before helping her to stand up. “Feel better?”
The girl nodded solemnly.
“Then, go. But be careful.” She watched as the little girl tested her legs before running off down the street.
“Your Arabic is better than the last time we were together,” Zaid told her.
“I wanted Calum to know it, so I kept my language classes up.”
“So, he speaks Arabic?”
Nodding her head yes. “He’s learning. There’s a mosque not too far away and the Imam’s wife has been giving him lessons along with their sons.”
They continued walking in silence. Rebecca watched him look at everything. His face seemed pensive and she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. His father had come under the watchful eye of more than one human rights organization for the lengthy list of complaints from the migrant workers who both lived and worked in Sharjah. When she was asked to come on this tour, she had made sure to study all the files she could access. She had been shocked to find how rampant it was in such a small area. It was as if their poverty supported all of the other wealth in the Emirate.
“One of the problems I wanted to bring up is the water in Timina,” she said.
Zaid stopped walking and looked at her. “How is it that you know more about what’s wrong in Sharjah than I do?” he asked her. There was no humor in his voice. He was truly concerned with how out of touch he’d become.
“It’s my job, Zaid. I study places like these and help people in power figure out how to fix it so that it doesn’t become a political problem. You know, I help you avoid the torches and pitchforks.”
Zaid grimaced as he took in the sewage in the gutter on the other side of the street. “What about the water?”
“You should have received a copy of the water sanitation report from the UN Water Program. The scientists that came through here two years ago reported broken pipes and unsafe levels of toxins in the drinking supply.” She was about to continue but a cloud passed over his face as he turned to her.
“First, I need to find out why Timina is crumbling while the rest of the Emirate is growing and progressing.” She could tell by his tone that he was angry and she was glad it wasn’t directed at her.
“What about the water? Some of your poorest Emiratis don’t have safe drinking water. What are you going to do about it?” she asked insistently.
“I will need to get a copy of that report and have someone look into it. In the meantime, we can bring in water trucks. Since this is not something that we can resolve overnight, we will have to look into temporary solutions until more permanent ones can be found.”
Rebecca felt a smile spread across her face. Given everything she had read in the reports, she was surprised at how quickly Zaid was to jump into action. She just hoped
that his enthusiasm to make things right wouldn’t be short-lived.
“But will you keep this concern up after the tour goes home or once more money has been invested in the growth of Sharjah?”
Turning to glare at her, “Why would you even ask me something like that? You have gotten my attention, which was what you wanted and now I intend to do something about…all this,” he finished as he gestured to the cracked and crumbling buildings.
Hearing a small motor, they both watched what might have once been a motorcycle cruise slowly past them. The rider had two small children, one in front and the other in back, holding tightly to him as he rode past.
Shaking his head, he watched them go by. “Something is very wrong here and I intend to find out what happened.”
His deep, commanding voice stirred the desire she’d tried to ignore all day. She wanted to distance herself from him on a personal level and maintain professionalism around him, but it was hard to do when she started seeing how much he truly cared as opposed to the clueless Sheikh who hid inside the palace and pretended these problems didn’t exist.
10
Upon returning to the palace, Zaid escorted Rebecca to his private quarters, again, while he made several phone calls to start an investigative probe into the problems in Rajak and Timina. He wanted to know where the money was going, where the jobs were, and just how it was that so many problems had been overlooked for so long. He handed the job over to the same contact who was looking into the Sultan’s Chief Advisor. He felt it was only fitting since Alacabak was supposed to oversee both areas.
He briefly contemplated speaking with his father about his suspicions but Alacabak was a trusted member of his father’s staff and he would need to have considerable evidence against him before his father would listen.
He then called to order the water trucks and was assured that they could begin delivering water as early as that evening.
