There was a time when giving birth was one of the most dangerous events in an Emirati woman's life. Often childbirth took a life as it brought another one into the world.
“That is how we lost our mother, who died while giving birth to me,” says Ayesha Ibrahim Al Midfaa.
Ayesha was born in 1947, and was cared for by the other women in her family, and by her older sister Muneera, who was born seven years earlier.
“Back then, the whole freej (neighbourhood) was your family, and so while we may have lost our biological mother, we had dozens of mothers throughout our lives,” Muneera says.
Ahead of today’s first Emirati Women’s Day, Ayesha and Muneera are reflecting on the dramatic changes over the past few decades, in every field and industry, and throughout that time, they say Emirati women have been supported along the way.
The sisters have seen changes, from hospitals, malls and roads being built to their old home being demolished to make way for modern, bigger buildings.
Today, they live in a family compound in Sharjah made up of mansions, each belonging to a family member.
But it’s the old traditional home they once lived in along the beach they miss the most.
“It was a time when everyone knew your name, when everyone would show up at the beach to welcome back the pearl divers, and we always sang and danced,” Muneera says.
It was also a time when canned food was a “luxury”, the drink Vimto was a treat and the most cherished item in every home was jewellery.
“Our gold was so heavy, it would leave marks and blood on us,” says Muneera, who is wearing a long string of pearls, pointing to her ankle. “But we loved to wear them.”
They love to reminisce about their father, a cultural and historic figure in UAE history pages.
The merchant and writer Ibrahim Al Midfaa's house is a museum in the Sharjah Heritage Area. The house is recognisable miles away for its distinct circular barajeel (wind tower). In 1927, he launched Oman, the first newspaper of the Trucial States; in 1933, he published another newspaper, Sawt Al Asafeer, which some call the UAE's first Twitter, because the name translates to "voices or Twitter of birds".
“Our father’s majlis was always busy with important visitors from the region,” Ayesha says. “He would tell us about the meetings, who said what, and bring books and magazines from around the world for us to read.”
Ayesha followed in her father's footsteps, launching a women's magazine in 1975 called Sawt Al Marraa ("Voice of Women") that was published until the 1980s.
Currently, the Emirati is collecting all her columns from the magazine and putting them together into a book as a way of capturing the sentiments and discussions of that decade.
“We women here always had the support of our people and of our government,” both sisters say.
“If we wanted to launch a new idea, there was always someone there to help us make it happen,” Ayesha says.
Muneera and Ayesha are also two of the founders and members of the Sharjah Women’s Association, set up in 1968, which later became part of the General Women’s Union that was set up in Abu Dhabi on August 28, 1975.
Both women have read extensively on history and politics, can recite poems and prose, and love to sing old songs such as those by Umm Kulthum and Fairouz.
"We loved our radio. We would listen to it all the time with our father and our friends. We would sit around it and listen to the Arabic songs and to the news broadcast via Sawt Al Arab ["Voice of the Arabs"] and BBC Arabic," says Muneera.
Radio was — and remains — one of the most popular media outlets for the UAE and the rest of the Arab world. The BBC Arabic service started in 1938. Pan-Arab sentiments were high in the late 1950s and 60s, and the famous Egyptian station Voice of the Arabs (launched in 1953) was dedicated to the political waves and breaking news, broadcasting the Pan-Arabist speeches of the Egyptian president Gamal Abdul Nasser to millions of listeners across the Middle East.
“We also loved to go to the cinema, and watched Indian movies that were not translated or dubbed,” says Muneera. “But we understood what was happening from all the action and dancing,” Ayesha adds.
The cinema they went to was in the area of Al Mareijah, which has long been modernised with roundabouts and tall buildings.
Photos from the 1950s and 60s show them dressed like Arab movie stars, with the black abaya and scarf making its appearance in the 1970s.
When not with family or travelling, they like to do what many others do: shop.
The two enjoy shopping at the various malls across the UAE, and also like to watch TV. They recall enjoying going to the traditional markets of their youth, even though they weren’t air-conditioned, as “you never know what you found”.
They spent many family outings, especially Eid, under the famous and massive rolla tree of Sharjah. People would set up swings on its branches and families would picnic in its shade. A statue of a tree stands in place of the Banyan tree, which is believed to have spanned at least 30 metres and stood more than 15 metres high. It was the first Banyan tree to be planted in the UAE, transported from India by ship in the early 1800s. It fell in 1978.
“So many good memories,” says Ayesha. “We do miss the old days, especially those on the beach, don’t we?” Her sister smiles and says: “Oh yes.”
Ayesha’s daughter, Noura Al Noman, who turned 50 this year, agrees with her mother and aunt that those days along the shores were the best.
“We were always outside and we were quite creative,” says Noura.
This was a time when children were always outside, playing hopscotch on the sand and running along the beach.
The simplest things amused them. Discarded pieces of cloth were sewn into dolls with buttons for eyes. Sticks, pebbles, seashells and even a piece of bone were all part of children’s games.
“We would use sticks as bats, and rocks as baseballs, and we would chase a goat’s bone, thrown at sunset so it was less visible and harder for us to find,” says Noura, referring to a traditional Emirati game known as Etham Al Lawah (“Waver of Bones”).
Her two daughters, Al Yazia Al Suwaidi, 20, and Hamda Al Suwaidi, 19, laugh as they listen to their mother’s childhood stories.
“We did go out and play in our private garden, which has swings and slides, but it’s true, nowadays kids are chubby, because they sit and play on their smartphones and iPads all day,” says Al Yazia, who is a basketball player, and hopes to combine her love of sports and a management degree into a future venture within the sports field.
Hamda, who admits she loves her phone, appreciates the privileges Emiratis have today.
“There is a stereotype that young Emirati women are spoiled and dependent on the men in their lives, be it father or husband, and all they want to do is get married. But that is changing with more women wanting to do something, such as start a business, and be independent,” she says. Al Yazia agrees with her sister.
The pair, and their other siblings — two more sisters and two brothers — have their mother as an example of a pioneer.
Noura, who is an accomplished author and the first Emirati to publish a sci-fi novel, says one of the biggest changes has been the curriculum in schools.
“Before, there was a widespread nationalistic sentiment, and so we all learnt about Arab and Islamic history, and know our greatest warriors, poets, philosophers and writers. Unlike today’s youth, where their studies have been so watered down that they barely even know Arabic anymore.”
Both Al Yazia and Hamda have volunteered their time to animal welfare and to helping cancer campaigns — Hamda rode a horse for the Pink Caravan, which raises funds for cancer research, and Al Yazia cut her hair to donate it as a wig for cancer patients.
Beside social and political changes, with more women in top positions — including Noura as the department chair of the executive office of Sheikha Jawaher bint Mohammed bin Sultan Al Qasimi, the wife of Dr Sheikh Sultan bin Mohammed Al Qasimi, Ruler of Sharjah — one of the biggest changes in women’s lives is within the medical field.
She gave birth to her children in a modern hospital, a big contrast to her own birth, which was at home with the help of midwives.
“We have many hospitals and doctors to choose from, we don’t even think about it,” says Al Yazia.
But perhaps the topic of marriage is reflective of the greatest social change.
“I never met my husband before marriage,” says Noura. “I saw his passport photo, and he saw my photo, and he even refused to talk to me on the phone. The first time I saw him was when we signed the marriage contract.
“But these days, given how much people lie and pretend, where being the son or daughter of a particular family doesn’t mean anything anymore, I wouldn’t try to set up my son or my daughters with anyone,” she says.
Her dowry was Dh1,000, a meagre amount compared to today, with dowries running into tens and hundreds of thousands dirhams — sometimes even millions.
Both Hamda and Al Yazia can’t imagine getting married so traditionally, and would like to know the man before getting officially married. They also have interesting dowry demands.
“I want to set rules such as keeping my independence to travel and going out without needing my husband’s permission,” says Al Yazia.
Hamda wants a Jeep and a dog. “I want the Labrador dog inside the Jeep,” she says.
As for Muneera and Ayesha, there wasn’t even a photo before the wedding night.
“You just pray all will go well, and then work at a marriage,” says Ayesha.
“We didn’t take anything for granted before. We lived and live fully each day,” says Muneera.
While each woman has a different story, and different memories, there’s one activity that all the women in the family, across all generations, like to join in for: putting puzzles together.
“We buy the biggest puzzles and sit for hours together putting them together. We bond and discuss and forget about the outside world,” says Noura. “It is a family tradition.”
Changing Times
Three generations of Emirati women give their thoughts on how life in the UAE has changed.
Describe the Emirati woman.
Muneera, 75: "Conservative, family-orientated, hard-working."
Ayesha, 68: "She is every woman."
Noura, 50: "She is strong, independent and fully supported by the government."
Al Yazia, 20: "Somewhat spoiled and materialistic, but that is changing."
Hamda, 19: "Lucky. She can achieve anything she wants if she puts in the effort."
What's an Emirati woman's most important accessory?
Muneera: "Jewellery. The heavier the better."
Ayesha: "Her manners."
Al Yazia: "The right make-up and attitude."
What's missing these days?
Muneera: "Neighbourly love."
Ayesha: "A simpler, less materialistic life."
Noura: "Selflessness. People do things for their own interest; not enough is being done for others just out of kindness."
How has marriage changed?
Ayesha: "We didn't met our husbands before the wedding, nor did we see their photos. It was completely arranged and you left it to God to bless the union."
Noura: "A passport photo was all I got from my husband before the marriage contract was signed."
Al Yazia: "There is no way I would marry someone based on a photo or recommendation. I have to know him before agreeing to anything. Too many girls want to get married just to have a wedding party."
Hamda: "It is still not about love. There is too much pressure to marry someone with the right last name and image."
How has communication changed?
Muneera: "Before, people would make more of an effort to remain connected. It was harder to reach someone's home, and yet people made the effort."
Noura: "People are always busy, and so smartphones and emails are what they use to quickly send their thoughts and messages. I was fond of the landline phone – it was a treat to get a call."
Al Yazia: "It is all about social media and how many followers you have, not about real friends."
rghazal@thenational.ae