For the last few days, I have not felt very well. After 25 years of my life spent here in Saudi Arabia, I’ve been rejected for next year’s iqama, so I’ll have to go back to my real home country on exit, forever. I finally feel like: “Yes, I am an expatriate”.
I was born here in Madinah. My father worked hard all of his life in a government organization not only for monetary benefits, but he worked hard for the better output of his office. He gained a lot of respect there, too.
I was born into a society where I was taught by my family to be honest, to be loyal and to work hard. I was taught that we should do this not just for the benefits involved, but that we should also have higher aims. I believed in that. I’ve watched the people around me. I’ve seen their behavior and I have learnt from them. I’ve seen Saudis who are attached to their religion.
The Prophet’s Mosque in Madinah and the Grand Mosque in Makkah were the greatest attraction for my family. We made the best friends from this society, and these friends are like family to us.
I used to go back to my home country and compare the two societies. I was always happy to return to the Kingdom. The behavior of my father’s friends always used to surprise me in a positive way. It made me feel that yes, this is almost my country. I became more loyal to the Kingdom and used to attempt to clear up the misconceptions some people had.
I found a page on Facebook called “Although I am not a Saudi, but I <3 K.S.A”. When I saw it, I said to myself, “This is what I believe”. I joined the page instantly. My family and friends on Facebook also joined it. I started to help the admin of the page in postings, and then the time came when I became the admin of the page.
I collected information, photos and links, and sometimes I used to write my own stuff to post on the page as well. From a community of a little bit more than 5,000 and from the statuses, photos and links posted, it is now a community of nearly 11,000 members. I never had any ambition to benefit from it.
Then the time came when most fellows my age were no longer allowed to stay in the Kingdom. The Saudi authorities became more active in deporting these people. At that time I had a platform to propagate my positive words about the Kingdom and its aims. I used to talk about the good and kind behavior of the Saudi people.
Unrest started in the Middle East. We all prayed that it would soon be over in other countries, but I especially used to pray that this would never happen in the Saudi Arabia, and it has not, Alhamdulillah.
But now the time has come when I am also a victim and will have to leave. I tried to get a job here, but, unfortunately, I could not. So, I am bound to leave the Kingdom within a few days. I will be taken away from my birthplace, Madinah Al-Munawara.
Not only my birthplace, but the final resting place of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). And why? Because I am an expatriate. I am not allowed even to visit the Kingdom on a frequent basis, because this would be a problem for the authorities - because I am an expatriate. All of my beliefs, the beliefs I’ve been developing all of my life are just fading away.
In spite of our loyalty to the Kingdom, we don’t ask for citizenship, but why is there always “No” as an answer to questions like: Can the authorities not issue us a Green Card-like document to let us visit here, as an expatriate? Can the authorities not allow us to renew our iqamas as we used to do?”
Why do they really want us to feel:“Yes, I am an expatriate”.
Someone from Britain asked a person living in the Kingdom:
“How long have you been living there?”
“More than 30 years.”
“So you must be financially comfortable by now.”
“Yes, Alhamdulillah”
“So you must have your own house there.”
“We aren’t allowed to buy houses there, we live in a rented apartment.”
“Oh, so you must started a business, or own a shop or something there.”
“No, expatriates aren’t allowed to own a business.”
“Then why do you even live there?”
After a long pause for thinking: “I don’t know.”
Usman Shafique
Madinah
