My childhood was spent in Al Raffa, Dubai. It was there that my earliest memories and first impressions of life took shape. Later, we moved to Jumeirah (Al Shaabia), where I was an exceptionally active and athletic child. I would run around the courtyard of my father’s home, which was a gathering place for the neighborhood children. More often than not, I was the only girl among them—and the only one who could keep up with the boys in both play and determination, as though Dubai itself was quietly teaching me courage and strength.
I love the soil of Dubai by the sea, when the sky is illuminated by the rays of the sun and the sand slips gently between my fingers. My grandmother used to tell me, “The soil of Dubai is precious, and one day we will miss it.” She was right. Dubai became something entirely different—a vibrant, green city full of life.
I love the dawn prayer in Dubai. We used to play at Al Seef, behind the Union House, where moments of play and prayer seemed to blend together. It was there that I discovered how joy and serenity could meet in one place.
I loved my trips around Dubai with my father. I witnessed the rise of many of Dubai’s landmark projects alongside him—the Dubai World Trade Centre, Rashid Tower, the Hatta quarries, the port, and the dry dock. During every journey, he would explain to me how foundations were built, how machinery was manufactured, and how projects were managed. At the end of our tour, we would pass by the airport, where he would buy me a small, colorful cake. It was the most wonderful weekly reward I eagerly looked forward to.
And how I loved Fridays with my mother, Jlaitham. She would take me with her to Al Shindagha as she visited relatives and maintained family ties. Before we returned home, I would fill my pockets with the soil of Al Shindagha. Then, when we arrived back at our home in Jumeirah (Al Shaabia), I would scatter the sand from my pockets as though I were planting a memory in the ground.
I adore Dubai’s sky when it is polished by the winter sun, with its towers shimmering like stars within reach. I adore Bur Dubai, where traditional wind towers stand alongside skyscrapers, and modernity embraces heritage. I adore Dubai Creek, a waterway of stories and a harbor of memories, where boats and yachts carry people and their memories from one shore to another. I adore Dubai’s traffic and bustle—a rhythm that never stops, a meeting place for dreams arriving from every direction.
This is the Dubai that raised me. A city where we learned to dream and persevere. The older I grow, the deeper my love for it becomes. And the farther its roads stretch, the deeper my roots grow within it. Its soil remains in my hands, its whispers linger in my ears, its stories live on in my memory, and its promise resides in my heart.
How deeply I love Dubai, its people, and the air of Dubai that I breathe.