The women’s majlis: Try to see beyond race and religion

We met through a little hole that was in the wall separating our houses. We would find great joy in peeking at each other and exchanging random conversations, laughter and toys. Our friendship grew and extended to involve both our parents. We would play together – her, my sister and myself – sometimes in our backyard, sometimes in theirs. Our parents would exchange food and socialise over an afternoon cup of red tea, while we hoped their conversations would continue for another hour so we could play together longer. We became best friends. This is how I remember my dear childhood neighbour, whom I did not know then was a Christian.

My childhood family physician used to live in an apartment, where we visited her often – my siblings, my mother and myself. I used to get very excited about visiting her as a child because she would always have fancy seashell-shaped chocolates on her coffee table. She would let us have as many as we liked, but my mother would only allow us to have one each. Each one of us had a favourite shell shape, although they all tasted the same. We would tease each other about how our chocolate shells tasted better than the others. This is how I remember our childhood family physician. I didn’t know it then, but that lovely lady was a Catholic.

At school, I had many friends from different backgrounds, but they were all my friends. They all had different personalities and looked different from the outside, but they were all fun to be around, and I loved them all. We never discussed our differences or even acknowledged them. We didn’t talk about our religious beliefs, or our families’ preferred political parties or views.

I don’t think that we knew such differences exist, nor did we care. I grew up with the concept that we are all equal and should love and respect one another. As an ­Emirati, I grew up believing Sheikh Zayed was a father who loved us all equally. He was a leader who believed in peace and the goodness of human kind. He was a great inspiration for me, and I used to think as a child that if I ever met Baba Zayed, I would let him know how much I wanted to grow up to be as loving as he was.

Unfortunately, I never got to meet him in person.

Today we’re led by his sons, who continue to advocate their father’s beliefs, who work hard to ensure we have the best quality of life possible. We have a duty to carry through these humanistic qualities and apply them towards each other. It doesn’t matter how different we are in the way we look, or our family names, tribes, religious beliefs, cultural backgrounds and lifestyle preferences. We all share the quality of humanity, and if we all work towards fulfilling it, we can all live in peace with our beautiful ­differences.

Zainab Al Mousawi is studying for a master’s in clinical social work at the University of Melbourne.

If you have a good story to tell or an interesting issue to debate, contact ­Melinda Healy on mhealy@­thenational.ae.