Hi all,
Jeddah is known to all as a gateway to the city of Makkah. Pilgrims come here to Jeddah, before they proceed. The impression they have of Jeddah is an impressive one: big roads, big cars, big shopping malls, cheap prices, lights everywhere, big villas and so on. That’s not to say that Jeddah is without its problems: sewerage, traffic chaos, unfixed roads and so on. The point being that Jeddah manages to convince its visitor that it is a high-class city.
However, there is an area on the outskirts of Jeddah, where the inhabitants are living in their own world. There is no such thing as a “road”, power outages are frequent, most people do not have a TV, almost all don’t know how to read or write thus rendering them illiterate, and safety to them is just another word in a dictionary. In fact, this area was the same place where my driver was held at gunpoint and robbed of his cell phone. The people who held him up were local Bedouin illiterate Saudi youths. In the midst of this area, there is a school, which was set up by the overseas Pakistanis, for the benefit of the poor Pakistani children who do not have any means to an education. I had an awesome opportunity to visit the school several months ago. I had no intentions initially, but since I have a heart for social work, I gave it my best shot to go and somehow make a difference.
The drive this particular area was a long one; it took almost an hour to get there. Once we got to the area, we had to navigate amidst maze-like roads that were strewn with uncollected garbage and derelict houses. Paint was peeling off, air conditioners were half dangling out, window panes were broken, main door were full of advertisements stickers and stray animals were roaming everywhere. It was a depressing scene. How can people live here? I could only thank God for the comforts He has given me in the life I am living. God, why would you allow for these people to live like this?
After much searching, we finally found the school. This was one of the cleaner dirt roads. From the outside, it looked any normal building, with the same brown textured concrete. There was a school board atop the main door. It is written in Arabic. Upon entering the not so impressive main door, I met up with the principal. He was delighted to have me over, since I was the son of one of the members who set up this school. The principal showed me around the school. It became apparent real quick that this place was someone’s house before it was converted to a school. There were several classes, of different levels. The uniform for the students was the white local Saudi dress, known as thobe. The teachers were only around four or five. Every time I went to the classroom, the lesson would stop and the teacher would make all the students get up and say hello to me in unison. I got embarrassed about it, and had to tell the principal to not make the students do this.
There was a playground, a games room and a library, with two computers donated by someone. They did not yet know how to operate a computer, let alone how to switch one on. I asked the principal what he felt was the biggest benefit of having a school like this. He said there two things. One, the children’s education was absolutely free. Two, the children were learning the English language, as well as Urdu, in addition to several different subjects, which included social sciences, geography, maths, Islamic studies and so on. Talking on with the principal, I asked him what he felt the school lacked. “Sir,” he said, “we need English books for the students to read. We also need a bookshelf.” I knew I had a lot of books at home. “You know what, I have lots of books at home, which I used to read when I was younger. I can bring them over,” I said. The principal got excited. “And also, I happen to have a bookshelf as well.” Now, the principal eyes were lighted up, and I could see he was clearly delighted by this.
I got home, sorted out the books I had. They included the various encyclopedias, storybooks, Enid Blyton’s books, The Hardy Boys among others. There were about a little over 100 books. I went to the school again and gave them my books and my bookshelf as well. I kind of felt sad because this bookshelf had been with me for quite a while, but I was glad that it was being given to someone who needed it the most. I had the students carry the books and the shelf in. Their excitement was very visible. They began whispering to each other about the books they were getting. I helped the principal understand the procedure of checking out books, and how to keep a record. I taught him how to write down the name of the student, date checked out and the date it is supposed to be returned.
What I have done may be a very small thing to some of you, but it was clearly a very big thing for the students. My father met with the principal several weeks later, and the principal and the children were asking about me specifically. I had made a difference in their lives, and you know what, I felt good! It was the same kind of goodness I felt when I went to SOS Village Orphanage in Lahore, Pakistan, but that’s another story!
There are pictures available on www.picturetrail.com
Warmly,
Mansur
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