More Medical Matters - Cataract

 25 June 2023

I’ve been home from Saudi Arabia about 18 months. I must say I’m happy to be amongst my people again and to not to have any work obligations. I sometimes miss teaching especially
when I think of some of the excellent classes I had. I also miss having a regular income and the opportunity to travel several times a year.

 A couple of months after arriving home I went for an eye test. I had noticed while still in KSA that my left eye didn’t see straight lines. Both horizontal and vertical lines appeared wavy. When I mentioned this to the optometrist, she was concerned that I may have age related macular degeneration. She suggested that I start taking Ocuvite vitamins for the eyes. I did this and a while later decided that it would make sense for me to see a specialist

 I don’t have medical insurance, so I’m obliged to use Government Health facilities. The one I have used before is Helen Joseph Hospital. They provide pretty decent health care, but the one thing you can depend on is that you will queue for hours. You can count on spending at least half a day there with every visit.

 However, you can’t just pitch up there, you need a referral. This meant that I first needed to

visit my local clinic – Discoverers Health Center. So bright and early I pitched up at Discoverers only to discover that I wasn’t early enough; there were about 30 people ahead of me. The first thing I had to do was to open a file. This took about 90 minutes. Then I had to queue to be told where I needed to go. This took about 45 minutes. Then I queued for the optometrist for another 30 minutes only to be told that I first had to have my vitals checked. This done, I finally got to see the lady who after an eye test gave me a referral to HJH.

 A few days later I reported to HJH eye section where I had to make an appointment for a few weeks hence. I duly arrived for my appointment. Fist I had to report to reception so they could fetch my file.  That’s when they discovered that my file had been discarded because I hadn’t been there for a couple of years. After about an hour a new file was created, and I reported for triage and vitals. This took like an hour and then off I went to the eye clinic.

 After about another hour I was in eye-clinic triage. This consisted of about 4 tables manned by ladies who did some preliminary checking. After a cursory examination and reading my referral, she asked where I live. When I told her Weltevredenpark, she said that I needed to report to Leratong Hospital for treatment. I objected but she was adamant.

So I duly arrive at Leratong, about 15km further than HJH, spend a couple of hours getting a file created (they put my name as John, my middle name, on the file). Then I went to get my vitals checked and then queued to see the doc. She examined my eyes and concluded that my right eye needed cataract surgery and the left one wasn’t in great condition due to the orbit being cracked, no doubt from the car that hit me back in 2015. She scheduled my surgery about 3 months hence with a pre-op appointment a couple of days before the surgery.

 I arrived for pre-op procedures at 0700, not knowing what the pre-op entailed. Eventually, at 1400 I got to see the doc. He scribbled some notes in my file and told me that I should present myself for pre-op next Friday. I said that my pre-op was today, but he said that they had overbooked, so sorry.

 The next Friday I went through the same motions again and eventually got to see the doc again. He again scribbled in my file and told me that I would be admitted to hospital, ward 23, on Sunday morning. When I questioned why because the surgery was scheduled for Monday morning and was done on an out-patient basis, he replied that there were “problems” when people were told to come on the day of the surgery.

So Sunday morning I collected my file and reported to ward 23. Of course, because my file said John Grove, they kept calling me John. Eventually I gave up correcting them. I sat in reception for about 2 hours while they completed various documents. An orderly came by with a food trolley and asked if I would like some food. I said, “yes please” and he gave me a plastic covered plate of food. It was a chicken drumstick, a greenish substance, and some potato. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any eating implements, so I put the food to one side.

Eventually they told me to report to ward 17. After wandering about for a while, I found ward17. Again, I sat in reception for about 30 minutes before being shown to my room and bed. It was an 8-bed ward. Since there was absolutely nothing else scheduled for the rest of the day, I went outside to find a patch of sun and to read my book.

 

About 1630 I thought I would return to my ward and wait for supper. When I got there, I found that my supper had already been delivered and by now was cold. Supper was hospital food. The sheet on my bed was exactly the same length as the mattress and wasn’t too stable. It was also the noisiest bed I have ever been on. Each time I moved it spoinged and spanged and rattled and groaned. The wheels weren’t locked, so it also moved back and forth and banged into the wall. All this earned me some irate looks from the rest of the ward. One dude had his arms tied to the frame of his bed, so I assumed he was a prisoner.

Around 2030 we were brought tea and bread which I enjoyed. Then around 2100, after we had all climbed into bed, we were told to pack up all our belongings, including our bedding, because we were being moved to ward 23. So off we went and again spent about hour hanging around in ward 23 reception. In due course we were shown to our beds. We made them and hopped in. After lights out I quietly went to the toilet, quietly made my way back so as not to disturb anyone, and kicked over a table as I was climbing back into bed.

 I woke up with all the lights on, and I wondered who was messing with the lights as it was only 0400. Turns out it was the nurses and our day had begun. They took blood pressure, checked sugar levers, and put drops in my eye and covered it.

 They don’t come and fetch you from the ward when it’s your turn but took all 7 of us to the operating floor where we sat around awaiting our turn. After about an hour I was bored so I went walkabout.  A nurse saw me wandering around and asked me “Pappa, where are you going”? I went into one procedure room and asked the dude there what the interesting looking machine was that was over the bed. He told me I wasn’t supposed to be in there and to please leave.

Eventually it was my turn, and I was seated in a dentist-type chair with my head tipped right back. When the doc started the procedure she placed a bright light in my eye, so I saw noting, which was probably for the best. From what I’d read I knew that they cut a small slit in the sac surrounding the lens, then they fragment the lens with a sonic probe, “vacuum” out the fragments and then insert the new lens which unfolds itself in the sac. It wasn’t a fun procedure, but it wasn’t bad and it was over in about 20 minutes. I was given drops and tablets and told I could go home.

 That was easier said than done. I had to take an Uber home since I couldn’t drive with my right eye covered and my left eye not focussing properly on anything. Trying to read my phone screen to order the Uber was a challenge. I couldn’t read any of the car details except that the registration started with a K. I watched the cars coming and saw one that I thought started with a K. I went closer and closer until I was almost touching it and saw that indeed it started with a K. I opened the passenger door and climbed in, hoping that it really was my Uber. It was.

 I went for a follow up 2 days later and a took a sharpie with me to correct my name on my file. I did so and when I went for my vitals, the nurse looked at my file and said, “Sit down, George” <sigh>.

 My right eye is so much better than it was. Colors are so much brighter, and I can read and see my computer screen without glasses. The doc said that surgery wouldn’t benefit my left eye, but they could improve it with glasses. In another couple of weeks, they will test me for specs and I’ll be good to go.

 It’s been an interesting experience and I am happy that I got top-notch attention in a spotlessly clean hospital without any cost to me.

 

 

 

 

Evicted from the Kingdom

 18 December 2021

Pieter and I shared our accommodation with an HR person – separate bedrooms and shared kitchen, living room and two bathrooms. Near the end of November, the HR person (Wahid) told us that Bisha university had changed their minds and had decided to accept Pieter and me on a trial basis. We were told that we had the following day to pack up our lives and the morning following that we were to fly to

Wahid and Pieter

Bisha to take up our new positions. We were to be responsible for finding and paying for our own accommodation and arranging our own transport to and from work. This was a new challenge as for the past ten years Al Jazeera has provided accommodation and transport as part of our package to wherever we were teaching. I had a rather lengthy and heated discussion with Wahid as I really did not want to leave Riyadh and I really didn’t want to move to Bisha. However, in the end, I reluctantly acquiesced, mainly so that Pieter and I could support each other.

Finances were another challenge. My bank account had been frozen due to some iqama issues and Pieter was earning a reduced salary due to Al Jazeera’s ongoing financial woes. Al Jazeera gave us a SAR10000

Temp accommodation
 in Bisha

advance to find temporary accommodation when we arrived in Bisha and to pay the first month’s rent for when we found permanent accommodation. We had one week to sort ourselves out before classes resumed at the university after the break. A taxi driver took us from the airport to a hotel apartment that we could afford for a few days.

Some difficulties immediately became apparent. The list of phone numbers that had been provided to us by HR to find accommodation was useless. Either the contacts had left Bisha, could not help or could not communicate in English. In fact, very few people in Bisha can speak English and neither Pieter nor I can speak Arabic. The receptionists in our hotel apartment did speak some English and were very helpful. They suggested that Pieter and I walk around and look for buildings with signs outside and make a note of the phone numbers. They would phone the numbers for us and make enquiries. This approach was a total bust and the days were passing, and the money was dwindling.

Adding to the situation, the contract Al Jazeera presented to us to sign was for a much lower salary than had been discussed before we left Riyadh. The reason for this, we were told, was because the university did not consider South Africans to be native English speakers. So, Pieter and I were to earn less than Sudanese, Somalians, and various other non-native speakers. Further, HR told us that we would have to pay for our boxes of belongings in Riyadh to be shipped to us in Bisha. This also had not been discussed with us before we left Riyadh, but this is fairly typical Al Jazeera planning and communication.

Around this time, I got a call from a company in Riyadh offering me a teaching position at the Ministry of Defense, working shorter hours and for a higher salary. Given all the drama, disorganization, stress, and miscommunications with Al Jazeera, I decided to accept this offer and return to Riyadh.

This decision did not go down well with Al Jazeera. They were angry and felt that I had embarrassed them in front of the university. I had several phone calls from a variety of people at head office urging me to change my mind and to stay in Bisha. Even the COO of Al Jazeera, currently based in Egypt got involved. However, I had had enough and went ahead and bought myself a ticket back to Riyadh.

Flying back to Riyad

I informed my erstwhile flatmate, Wahid, that I would be returning to the accommodation. He in turn informed me that my room had been taken by another employee and there was no room for me. Although my contract with Al Jazeera had ended more than a year previously, they were still obliged to provide me with accommodation as they still owed me a fairly large sum of money - they had paid me, and most of their staff, no salary for the whole of 2020. So, there I was the night before flying back to Riyadh with absolutely no idea of where I would be staying when I got there and with limited funds. I spent ages Googling cheap hotels in Riyadh with zero success. To say I was stressed would be an understatement.

In desperation and on Pieter’s advice, at about 21:30 I contacted my new manager and asked if he could help. He gave me the number of a SAFFA that also works for the company and said that this guy (Arno) could maybe help. This gentleman proved to be an angel in human form. He met me at the airport and drove me around various places where I could stay close to where I would be working. Nothing was too much trouble. We found a very suitable furnished accommodation that would be available three days later and then he found me somewhere to stay for the three days I was waiting. On the day I moved into my new accommodation he picked me up, transported me and my cases to my new digs and then took me to the local Carrefour to buy some basic provisions. I doubt that he will ever know what a huge weight he lifted from my shoulders. Each time I thanked him he dismissed it as “nothing”.

My apartment

On the plus side my iqama issues had been resolved and I again had access to my bank account. What a relief!

Meanwhile, my erstwhile flatmate, Wahid, told me that I needed to collect my boxes of belongings from the accommodation. I agreed and told him to give me a week and I would make a plan. He nixed this idea and said that if I didn’t fetch my stuff within three days, he would turf the lot. Such an accommodating fellow. So, I made a plan and at great inconvenience I fetched my belongings the next day.

Al Jazeera, however, was not done with me. They decided that because I had embarrassed them and because they were angry with me that the best course of action would be to destroy my livelihood and my ability to support my family financially. After all, revenge is important. Accordingly, they issued me with a final exit which gives me two months to leave the country. My previous ten years of work and support of Al Jazeera is evidently worth nothing.

My new employer is doing what they can to get my sponsorship transferred and to cancel my final exit, but I fear they will need the cooperation of Al Jazeera to achieve this. Although I have already paid Al Jazeera SAR25,000 to make my iqama transferrable, I doubt that they will allow this to interfere with their exacting their revenge on me. As things stand, I have until the end of January 2022 to leave the country.

Khaled Hammed (COO) and Abdulaziz Al-Awad (MD)
Al-Jazeera Management

Jobs, Yobs, Vacations and COVID

 After my surgery I was still out of work. I eventually had to give in to AJ’s extortion and pay the SAR25000 demanded by them to renew my iqama, otherwise I would have no chance of finding work. A local recruiter told me that BAE (British Aerospace) were looking for teachers to work from home in May. As the salary was rather attractive, I immediately put my hand up. The first three weeks of May I was emailed a couple of assignments, mainly

preparing transcriptions and test questions for the cadets at KFAA (King Faisal Airforce Academy). The last week of May I was told to report to KFAA where I would be assigned a class. Work started at 0600 with the first class starting at 0700. We then had six 45-minute periods of teaching the same class.

One problem I faced was the fact that the English school is about three kilometers from the base gate, and I have no transport here in KSA. The way that we dealt with the situation was like this: I would get an Uber at around 0515 which would drop me about one kilometer from the base gate. There I would wait at the side of the road for a colleague to pick me up and take me to the school. Usually, I wouldn’t have to wait more than 15 minutes. After classes I’d find someone to drop me at the side of the road (preferably in the shade) where I would get another Uber to take me home. Again, the wait was usually 15-20 minutes in 45-degree temperatures. The cost of this transport arrangement was close to SAR2000 / month. Not ideal but what can you do? Times are tough.

My first class was a pleasure to work with. They participated, asked questions and were generally enthusiastic students. When exam time came around they all did well, with a few 100% scores and a few in the 90%s. We had a good and cooperative working arrangement which worked well for all of us.

Then I got moved to a more “senior” class.

The term senior, in this case, simply means that they had been on the course for a longer time. It in no way implies that they were proficient in English, had any interest in learning,  wished to participate or had any understanding of the importance of English (IELTS 6.5 required) for their chosen future “careers” as air-force pilots.

Never in my teaching career have I had a class like this one. Other teachers suggested that because I was a “temp” I should have expected to be given classes that Saudi or permanent teachers preferred not to teach. These students declined to open their books, complete any

Motivated only to sleep

exercises, or answer any questions. Instead, they would tell me that the classes were a waste of time (on the evidence, undeniable) and that they would prefer to sleep or chat amongst themselves. They would walk into class late and immediately put their heads down and sleep or shout amongst themselves (in Arabic) and generally ignore me. They also would make comments about me in Arabic and laugh and otherwise mock me.

They would tell me that they did not want to be there and that they were “senior” cadets. My pointing out to them that I was a senior teacher and that I also did not want to be there, but here we were, had no effect. It was horrible. I did have one student who actually wanted to better himself, and I spent my days teaching him, while trying to get the rest of the mob to keep the noise so that I could communicate with this one student. On one occasion I was obliged to call for an officer to deal

My students being motivated by the lieutenant

with them, and he took them outside and made them do pushups and bunny-hops in the dirt and the sun. On their return one troublemaker burst into tears; I searched my heart but found no trace of any sympathy for him. Behavior improved for a few hours but there was still no sign of any motivation or desire to learn. As a teacher who loves teaching and interacting with students, I found this dispiriting.

After a couple of weeks of this, I was ready to resign. As it turned out I was saved the trouble by being told by BAE that as a temp I was no longer required. When I realized that I would never again have to deal this unpleasant, undisciplined, and immature bunch, my overwhelming emotion was one of relief.

12/7/21
Synchronicity in action: Out of the blue today I got a WhatsApp from two former students at Oxford Flying School in Dammam. I taught there in 2018. In general, the students there were motivated and eager to learn and we had a good working relationship. Here is a message I got from one class when I was reassigned:

After my experience at KFAA, I needed to remember this to restore my faith and belief in myself.

***

We have an Eid break coming up soon and I had decided to spend 10 days in Northern

Cyprus, one of my favorite places. I have been stuck in Riyadh for over 18 months, so I am more than ready to travel again. I applied for and paid USD80 for a Turkish visa (previously it was free) and bought my airline tickets. A few days later the KSA government announced that Turkey was now on their red list and that when I wished to return to KSA I would first have to quarantine for 14 days in a third country. Accordingly, I canceled the Cyprus trip.

So then I thought maybe somewhere a bit closer to home, Bahrain. Using Booking.com I booked a nice hotel with pool and private beach. The hotel thanked me for my booking and pointed out that due to COVID their restaurant was only doing take-aways. The spa, the pool and the beach were also all closed due to COVID restrictions. Accordingly, I canceled my Bahrain trip.

Then I thought maybe Abu Dhabi – it’s also close by, and I understood that they had COVID under control. I would be required to have a COVID test on arrival at Abu Dhabi airport and if that was negative, I would be free to proceed with my vacation. I paid USD200 for a UAE visa and health insurance, booked a nice hotel on Booking.com and bought my air tickets. A few days later KSA announced that UAE was now also on their red list and all flights to and from UAE were cancelled. Accordingly, I canceled my trip to Abu Dhabi.

Luckily, on Booking.com, one can cancel hotel bookings without any penalties, Turkish Airlines have refunded most of what I paid for my ticket and now I need to speak to Etihad about refunding the money I have paid them. I have not traveled out of Riyadh since end 2019 and it seems I’ll still be stuck here for a while.

Rounding off a rather rough patch, last week I learned that my son-in-law had contracted COVID and yesterday my daughter tested positive. She had been vaccinated a few days

previously, but unfortunately not enough time had elapsed for her to be fully protected. On the plus side her symptoms are mild compared to my son-in-law (who is not yet vaccinated), so it appears that the vaccine is giving her some degree of protection.

So we wait for life to return to normal and hope that this is not the new normal.

 

Medical Matters

 

In January of 2021 I noticed a small lump near my right ear which was growing. I’d initially assumed that it was something like a pimple, but it got bigger and assumed a “volcano” shape and became crusty.

Eventually, towards the end of January, I went to our local medical center, Alsahafa Medical Centre to get it checked out. The GP took a look and said that I need to see their skin specialist. I did so and he referred me to a surgeon at Dallah Hospital, one of the more expensive hospitals that does not accept Al Jazeera’s medical insurance (because AJ has the cheapest cover available).

A few days later I consulted with the surgeon at Dallah and he was willing to excise the cyst there and then. We went into a side room where he injected the mass with local anesthetic and started the procedure. I had some misgivings when I heard the nurse advising him on how to go about making the incision and afterwards advising him on whether I should be given pain medication.

Nevertheless, thirty minutes later the job was done, the cyst had been sent to a pathology lab for analysis and I was a couple of thousand Riyals poorer. Two days later I returned to Dallah for feedback. The surgeon informed me that the cyst was a squamous cell carcinoma. Nothing to worry about, he assured me, but probably two or three sessions of radio therapy would be a good idea just to make sure no stray carcinoma cells were lurking around. I didn’t feel reassured because on the pathology lab report the recommendation was for a complete excision of the cyst with safety margin. Anyway, Dallah did not have radio therapy facilities, so I needed to investigate where to find such facilities.

A few days later I went to Aster Sanad Hospital, where after registering as a new patient I eventually got to see a doctor. He told me that they had neither an oncology department not radio therapy facilities. He suggested I look elsewhere.

The following day I took myself to the Saudi German Hospital. I first spoke to a doctor in the oncology department. He told me that they did not have radio therapy facilities, but he gave me a list of hospitals that did have such facilities. He estimated that I would probably need about fifteen treatments, again at exorbitant cost. He read the pathology lab report and suggested that I consult with a surgeon without delay with a view to complete excision of the cyst as recommended in the lab report. 

The surgeon at Saudi German read the lab report and agreed that immediate surgery was indicated. The cost would be painful but when you’re dealing with a cancer, money becomes a secondary concern. All of a sudden you become very aware of your mortality.

Meanwhile, the cyst had started growing again, soon exceeding its previous proportions.

While discussing this issue with my friend and colleague, he mentioned that the father of one of his ex-students was highly placed in oncology in Saudi Arabia. If we could contact this person, he could presumably point me in the correct direction. The problem was that although my friend remembered the student's name, he didn’t have his number. He spent the next few days trying to get contact details for this student without success. Then there was an amazing synchronicity: a few days later, while sitting in a taxi at a red traffic light, he heard someone calling his name. And yes, it was the student that he had been trying to reach in a car next to the taxi.

We contacted his father and he set up an appointment for me with a professor specializing in head and

neck carcinomas. He had rooms at King Abdulaziz University Hospital, a prestigious hospital in Saudi Arabia. I was incredulous and relieved when he told me that my tests and treatment would be free of charge. This apparently because his son has an extremely high opinion of my colleague as a teacher, so he was happy to help us deal with my issue. He also told me that he loves to be able to help people.

I had several consultations with the professor, a CT scan, an MRI scan (an extremely noisy process), blood tests and an internal organ scan. The decision was made to excise the carcinoma with safety margin, to remove the right parotid gland and several lymph nodes in my neck.

I checked into the hospital and the following day I had a seven-hour surgery. I woke up feeling very sorry for myself. I had a (uncomfortable) catheter inserted, an oxygen mask, a drip, an oxygen and

respiration monitor and a blood pressure cuff which automatically took my BP every 10 minutes. I also had some sort of inflatable leggings on my legs, which inflated and deflated regularly, apparently to promote good blood circulation. My throat was sore, and I was dying of thirst. After a couple of hours, I was taken back to my room to recover. Several days later I was discharged and I Ubered back to my accommodation.

The main side-effects is that up until now my right ear is completely numb as is my cheek below my ear. When I shower if feels like I am washing a piece of rubber stuck to the side of my face. The incision scars are fading into invisibility and the medical report states that all traces of the cancer have been removed. I am supposed to have two or three follow up tests during the course of the year to confirm that there is no reoccurrence.

I do not have the words to express my gratitude to the doctor who made my treatment possible. I would not have been able to afford the excellent treatment I received, either here or in South Africa. I believe there would have been a very different outcome for me without his intervention.

The best way for me to end this entry is with the response I got from the doctor after I sent him feedback and a copy of my medical report:

Excellent...you don’t need anything extra...you are cured...Alhamdulillah...it was early disease and removed completely...you just need follow up..i think King Fahad might charge you more than other hospital.. I think prof. Khalid has a clinic in Dallah hospital and might charge you less for the follow up...by the way follow up is only physical examination and CT scans every 3 to 6 months. Which can be done by any hospital...check with King Fahad first and if they are charging high better you go to Dallah hospital and fix appointment with prof Khalid.. after Ramadan...but believe me Greg. you are really lucky...👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼

2021 – Part 1

 

Shortly after the above events, my colleague and I were invited to give a demo lesson for BAE at a Saudi Air Force military base. We were cautioned to be at the visitors’ entrance promptly

at 7am as there was only a 15-minute window for us to be admitted to the base. Accordingly, we took an early taxi and arrived at around 0640. We stood around for a couple of hours and were eventually collected at the gate at around 0915 and taken to the school, about 5 km from the gate. We gave our lessons and in due course we returned to our accommodation.

Several days later we were informed that we had been accepted by BAE and that we would commence teaching on the following Sunday. There were forms to be completed and photos to be provided to obtain a base pass. I completed the forms and submitted edited photos which I had on my laptop. A few days later I was informed that the photos were not acceptable

and that I needed to get proper visa photos.

The next day I consulted Google Maps which informed me that there was a photography studio, Studio Al-Sahafa, about 2km from my accommodation. I took a walk to the given location of  the studio, and after wandering around for about an hour I concluded that the studio either did not exist or had moved. I looked at the next place on Google Maps and found Digital Photo Studio. I decided to Uber to this one as by now I was tired of walking in the hot sun. Happily, this place existed, and I was able to quickly get the photos done. The photos were given to the base and I then awaited feedback.

At this time the recruiter (a Jordanian) informed me that he needed to travel to Jordan for a week to attend to an emergency, but when he returned, we would sort out all the paperwork, including the transfer of my iqama. Soon after he left, KSA entered lockdown again and all borders were closed. A few days after the commencement of the new lockdown, he messaged us that we should go to his office to sign the contracts for our application to proceed and for the iqamas to be renewed. All his colleagues, he assured us, were in the loop and would deal with our affairs speedily. Accordingly, the next day we took a taxi to his office. We spoke to three of his colleagues, none of whom had the faintest idea of who we were, what we were doing there and what they were supposed to do with us. Eventually I told them that, in the circumstances, we would return when the recruiter was back from Jordan, which he had told us he would be that weekend.

As it turned out, the lockdown continued for three weeks, and when the recruiter returned, we had just one week before we were due to start teaching at BAE. That is when things turned even more pear shaped. After assuring me that things were well in hand, a day later he told me that he could not transfer my iqama due to my expired exit visa on my file. Since Al Jazeera had applied for the exit visa, only they could get it cancelled.

I phoned Al Jazeera HR and asked if they would please cancel my final exit. No problem, they assured me, just come in and sign some papers. So I Ubered to Al Jazeera Head Office and

the papers I was required to sign were a commitment to pay Al Jazeera 25,000 SAR (about R120,000 of my retirement money) to renew my iqama and transfer it. I explained that the renewal and transfer would be taken care of by my new employer, all I needed was for them to cancel the final exit. They were not interested – it was an all or nothing deal. Since only Al Jazeera could cancel the final exit and the fact that I was facing severe time constraints, my back was to the wall and I had no option but to sign.

Firstly, I had to write a request for this expensive and illegal service. I was not given a copy of my document, but I was able to take a photo of it. Then I was coerced into signing a printed "contract" where I agreed to pay Al Jazeera 25,000 SAR. I also took a photo of this 

 document. I was assured that the matter would be finalized by close of business that day.

To cut a long story short, my iqama was not renewed that day and as a result I lost the job I had been offered with BAE. Al Jazeera was in no way concerned about this and made zero effort to expedite matters despite the large sum of money which they had extorted from me. The process will take two weeks, the tin-pot dictator told me when I followed up, reveling in his power over me. He has since ignored my attempts to communicate with him, apart from one email “instructing” me to come to the office to meet someone. I was ignored when I asked who the someone was and why I needed to meet them. Most frustrating is that there is no one to whom I can escalate this toxic situation. The owner of the company has another office and another business to which he devotes all his time, and the COO is in Egypt for an unknown length of time.

So once again, I grit my teeth and hurry-up and wait.

Yet More of 2020

Several days after I posted the above blog, I received some sad news. My brother-in-law, who had been ill for some time, passed away. On the same day I learned that a colleague of mine, who had departed KSA for home a few days previously, had also passed away. Both deaths were a shock to me.

Around mid-October I got a call from a recruiter with a potential job offer. A few days later I went for an interview (British Aerospace) and was subsequently offered a position. The only problem was that the starting date was non-negotiable, and this would entail me breaking my contract with Al Jazeera. I made it clear to the recruiter that my top priority was protecting my end-of-service benefits which had been accumulating for the past nine years. He assured me that there was no way that breaking my contract with AJ could endanger my benefits.

Based on this information I accepted the offer and notified AJ that I would be leaving one week before the end of my contract. A few days later my branch manager told me that if I resigned early, I would lose one-third of my benefits. I scoffed at this until he showed me the Saudi labor law which confirmed what he had told me. 

Accordingly, I sent a link of the relevant law to the recruiter and notified him that I would not be able to start the new job on the required date. He phoned me and spent fifteen minutes trying to convince me to break my contract anyway. Eventually, when I would not relent,  he went away miffed and muttering about wasted time. Since we were looking at me losing a substantial amount of money, I wasn’t too concerned about his hurt feelings.

In due course my contract ended, and I got to spend time in my accommodation with nothing much to do. I share the accommodation with three other teachers, all of whom are waiting for the money owed to them. By this time, my iqama (residents permit) had expired, and my final exit was getting close to expiry. If both my iqama and final exit expire, I become an illegal alien and subject to all sorts of nasty legal repercussions.

A couple of days before my final exit was due to expire, I made an appointment with a lawyer to see if it was possible to get my final exit extended. This would buy me time to find another job. The appointment was for 6pm and he send me a WhatsApp location. I took an Uber to his location, which turned out to be a parking lot. I walked up and down the street for 20 minutes looking for Majid Law 

Firm without success. So, I sent him a picture of the shop I was passing to ask for clearer directions. He eventually came downstairs to find me. He explained that we could not have the meeting that night due to their offices being flooded. There was in fact a large pool of water in the street in front of their offices. I mentioned to him that it would have been courteous to have cancelled the meeting before I arrived at his location.

The following day Al Jazeera summoned me for a meeting for us to agree on the amount of money due to me, this being one-year’s unpaid salary and end-of-service benefits. I sat in reception for about six hours while they calculated (?) and eventually they presented me with a figure that was about 35,000 SR less than my calculations. I gave them the spreadsheet of my calculations and left for the day. The next day they called me in again and after another lengthy wait they presented me with an amended amount which was much closer to my amount. They told me that if I returned the following day, they would give me 50% of what they owed, in cash, and a commitment to transfer the balance to my SA account in four installments.

Unfortunately, since my iqama has expired, my bank account has been frozen, and I now sit with all this cash in my accommodation. I am hoping that I will soon be employed again and that my bank account will be revived, allowing me to deposit the cash and transfer money back to South Africa.

Twenty-Twenty Continued

This follows on from my previous blog, Twenty-Twenty.

Eventually, in June we started working again. My weekly hours were reduced from 40 hours per week to 26 hours per week. Also, my salary was reduced by 40%, apparently this being an option offered to

employers by the government due to COVID. As of this week, normal working hours have been resumed, although salary remains diminished (and unpaid). A friend and colleague, who had instituted legal proceedings against Al Jazeera Academy some time back for non-payment of salary and benefits, won his case. This after Al Jazeera failed to attend 4 hearings. They now have one month to appeal the verdict, but they really don’t have a leg to stand on. 

My previous contract ended in the last week of September. My iqama (resident’s permit) expired at the end of September. Al Jazeera Academy told me that they would renew my contract for 2 months, after which I would be given a final exit visa. With straight faces they informed me that they would pay me 60% - 70% of what they owe me before

I leave and would transfer the balance to my South African bank account in the fullness of time. I politely rejected this offer. The way it works in KSA, within a few days of a contract ending, they are obliged to pay end-of-service benefits, which in my case, after 9 years of service, is a considerable amount of money. Also, Al Jazeera has not paid me a salary since November 2019, so in total they now owe me in the region of SAR 200,000.

When Al Jazeera informed me that I would get a final exit in November, I sent an email to the MD and asked him if he would assure me that I would receive all my outstanding monies before I leave and that Al Jazeera would be willing to transfer my iqama to a new employer should I find another position. The response to that email was a phone call from HR to tell me that they would transfer my iqama if I paid them SAR 25,000 (about R110,000). 

They also very cunningly made my contract expire one day before my legal residency in KSA expires, no doubt in the hope that I would leave the country before my ESB come due. So, it seems that the only way forward is to institute legal proceeding against Al Jazeera for my outstanding monies. I understand that one may stay in the country while a legal dispute in ongoing. 

I should also mention that I share an apartment with 3 other teachers, whose contracts expired some 8 months ago, but who are hanging around waiting for their money. Al Jazeera has effectively robbed them of 8 months of their lives.