The yawn granted by the Ramadan, respite from the craziness of this place, is over. The city has awoken with a wild roar, a ravenous beast once more.
The day and night building is relentless, the ‘jug jug jug’ of high-velocity digging hanmers my brain every minute.
It is phenomenal. Although I see it, I can’t truly comprehend how a city storms up from the desert in moments. In Europe we are used to a slow, meandering history.
Each day 450 new cars and drivers hit the choking highways, all three of them! The congestion… The land seems to almost sink visibly from the weight of this new population – 60,000 people a month.
Services are at breaking point. 1,500 people are passing through the doors of A&E at the hospital, every day. In the space of half an hour, a friend counted 18 planes arrive at the airport. My driver, when I started here, had just me and one other woman as clients, now he employs 5 other drivers and is still turning away work. His phone rings constantly and he hardly sleeps, just 3 hours a night.
The level of accidents seems to be increasing to new levels of terror. I see at least two bloodied, mangled horrors a day, and the driving gets more maniacal. It’s a theme park ride I can’t escape.
The newspapers printed speed camera photos of four cars clocking over 250 kph.
The city rips at its meat.