Fragments from my brain

Reading Arednt’s excerpt on the struggles behind refuge and identity has struck an emotional chord as I find myself relating to it on a lighter scale. Dubai has been a city I have been born and raised in all of my life. I noticed, mourned  and rejoiced the ever changing city that I call mine. I have lately found myself noticing demolished homes and the constructions of high rise buildings, which coincidentally are connected. Traditional homes by the sea-side have been demolished and broken down to make way for a large canal that runs all the way through Jumeirah to Downtown. Homeowners are required to start a living in rural neighbourhoods with little to no historical background about the town. The once sedentary is forced to turn into a bedouin, erasing all ancestral and generational efforts created by becoming pearl divers and fisherman. They ultimate feeling of honour and the profound proudness within their identity is slowly diminishing as they are subconsciously obliged to morph into someone they are not.

@goodbyeoldjumeirah is an Instagram account that displays corners, Sha’abi homes, abandoned neighbourhoods and street art in Jumeirah.
“Modernize me?”
“Goodbye old Jumeirah…وداعاً جميرا القديمة”
“You gave me space to grow.”

https://www.instagram.com/goodbyeoldjumeirah/

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