The June issue of Vogue Australia
On set with Vogue Australia
Seven years ago, I vowed never again to write about Australia’s Middle Eastern community. But recently I felt compelled to write again following a family tragedy. If I could help one family save their son from the underworld and raise awareness about the problems driving young boys into joining gangs, I will have achieved my objective.
I was excited to have my girls featured in the article.
I had spent more than a decade of my career engulfed in the community’s problems, including youth issues, crime and lack of leadership. However, during that decade I never alluded to my own family’s problems.
My brother was caught up in the underworld, joining notorious bikie gangs. He was jailed for three years for his role in a serious assault. In July last year my brother was gunned down outside his home – his past had finally caught up with him. Miraculously he survived the shooting and today he bears the scars of his choices.
I left Australia in 2008 for my own personal reasons. It wasn’t until I arrived in the United Arab Emirates that I stopped searching for my identity. I had found a place where East meets West, and where people of all nationalities live peacefully together and respect one another’s cultures and beliefs. This was something I had never felt back in Sydney.
Read more in June’s issue of Vogue Australia……
Some more behind the scenes images
Having fun with the girls
My little beauties getting ready for their first magazine photo shoot.
Follow me on Twitter: @my_arabia
UAE police continue to crackdown on beggars taking advantage of residents and tourist throughout the country
A woman dressed in black, her face covered revealing only her eyes, stands at the front door holding a small document. As she extends her arm and opens her hand, she begins asking for money to support her family. Tarek and I look at one another, we are in shock. We have heard about street beggars but never door-to-door.
The last time I encountered a beggar was when I was in a cab trying to cross into the United States from Tijuana, Mexico. It was a frightening experience as they circled the taxi, young children banging on our window. But this was different. It was happening at my front door.
I was thankful Tarek was home that day. He turned her away politely and gave her the name of nearby charities where she could get support. As he closed the door, the doorbell rang again. We didn’t answer it but she persisted until Tarek threatened to call the police.
Begging is now outlawed in the United Arab Emirates but in 2008 it was a growing problem in Abu Dhabi. Our doorbell would ring often – mostly during the day when Tarek was at work – but I never answered. I would look through the peephole, and if I saw a woman in black, I wouldn’t open. It’s sad – there were many friendly women who wore the burqa that lived in my building, but I never risked opening the door just in case the woman on my doorstep was a beggar.
Despite the many police campaigns in the major cities in the Emirates, begging remains a multi-million dollar industry. Often, during the holy month of Ramadan, professional beggars from India and Pakistan pay agency fees to come to the country to take advantage of residents’ generosity.
Local media reports say that during a police campaign in 2012, nearly 650 beggars were arrested in Dubai, one third of them during Ramadan. Among them was a man who asked passersby to contribute Dh10 for his bus fare. By the time he was arrested he had made Dh19,000. His counterpart in Sharjah did even better, collecting Dh30,000 in a matter of days.
A beggar was caught faking a disability with a prosthetic leg and another was arrested feigning illness using an IV bag taped to his abdomen. When police checked the bag’s contents it turned out to be an ordinary yellow liquid and not the result of some terrible disease. Yet there were many who got away. In 2011 a vengeful beggar super-glued an Indian woman’s car doors after she turned him away.
Recently, during a morning walk, a man with what appeared to be a bandage on his arm approached me, revealing an infected wound. He produced a doctor’s prescription for an antibiotic. “Pharmacist. I need money,” he said, revealing a hideous open wound the length of his forearm. I didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but being a generous person, I gave him whatever change I had in my pocket. I continued on my way but I remained wary for the rest of my walk. I could see him avoid certain people, mostly men, and then approach those who appeared to be softer targets. His next victims were an elderly couple.
I knew I had been scammed. He would disappear for a few minutes, plot his approach and seek out his next victim. He would just pounce. I alerted the local security team – simply telling them that a man needed urgent medical assistance. He had shown me a wound on his arm and needed help. I never told them he took money from me – I didn’t know his full story. I felt like I had been scammed but it could’ve been a genuine cry for help and telling the security men that I thought he was a con artist could have caused him harm that he didn’t deserve.
Back in Abu Dhabi, the knocks on our door eventually ended when our neighbours called police.
Next – Giving birth in the Arab world