“It’s fine with me as long as it’s okay with your mother,” Zaid told him.
“As long as what’s fine with me?” Rebecca asked coming into the bathroom to put on her jewelry.
“Calum wants to accompany us this morning as we go to the factory in Timina,” Zaid replied.
“Do you think it’s safe?” she asked.
“Of course it’s safe,” Zaid insisted. “Besides, one day, all of this may be his responsibility. Think about that.”
“Only if you ask me to marry you,” Rebecca fired back. “Oh, and if I accept.”
She shot him a look in the mirror and ducked back out of the bathroom.
Zaid looked at his son and shrugged. “I’ll take that as a yes. How about you?”
His face lit up. “I’m going?”
“Only if you get your Aunt to help you get dressed while your mother and I finish getting ready,” he said.
“Awesome,” he shouted, running into the living room to wake Amy, who’d slept on the couch.
The three of them, Zaid, Rebecca, and Calum, were waiting in front of the factory when the rest of the delegates showed up. While Rebecca had tried to get Amy to come with them, she happily bowed out telling them she would much rather catch up on some much needed sleep.
Candace climbed out of the coach first and walked up to greet them. “Is this your son?” she asked the two of them.
Zaid shot Rebecca a look, unsure of what exactly to say.
“My son, yes,” Rebecca answered.
Candace looked between Calum and Zaid. “You two are spitting images of each other. It’s uncanny. If I didn’t know you, I’d say he looks like your son, and the three of you make a wonderful family.”
Zaid and Rebecca laughed. Zaid ruffled his son’s thick black hair. “Thank you,” he said with a smile, as the other delegates and security detail caught up with them to go into the factory.
“Where’s your advisor, Alacabak?” Rebecca asked, looking around the group.
“He left a message that he had been otherwise detained and we were to go without him.” Zaid didn’t want to raise any concerns with Rebecca. She was too worried about everything anyway. “I’m presuming he had urgent business with my father. Since he filled in for me on two afternoons, it’s my turn,” he finished with a smile.
So many thoughts swirled in the back of Zaid’s mind as they walked into the factory, and he stepped away from Rebecca to the front of the group. He hadn’t considered anyone pointing out the resemblance between them so quickly and he was sure word would get back to his father faster than he was prepared to deal with. Given the unorthodox nature of his brothers’ relationships with their now wives, he was less concerned about any repercussions from his father and more concerned with his disappointment. Granted this information in the wrong hands could make for some bad press.
Alacabak’s absence at least bought him some time before his father found out about Calum. He was worried about the migrant workers they were probably going to find inside. The factory was in Timina after all, one of the migrant worker centers of Sharjah.
All Rebecca’s arguments about worker conditions in Rajak and Timina echoed in his head. With a bolt of clarity, he realized the combination of the working conditions and underpaid migrant workers would probably make the factory look like a sweatshop to his guests. Then, in a moment of brilliance, he decided to make it as positive as he could. He would show them that conditions like these were why they still needed new businesses and new investments in the region, just as he’d told Rebecca the day before. His people had to be brought out of poverty, and the government couldn’t do it by any means other than helping them obtain better jobs. Tourism and a strong local economy would help all of them. It was the only way.
“This is what we’re working with here in Timina,” he said as a way of introduction. “We have a lot of low wage workers doing jobs like these. This factory, owned by an American manufacturer, is the largest employer in this area. Now, as Ms. Reid can tell you, many migrant workers here earn wages considerably lower than our citizens and have little to no benefits. And while there are fines for hiring too many migrant workers, it can be difficult to police given that the majority of migrants are undocumented. We have put a lot of effort into not allowing this sort of thing to happen, with mixed success.”
He looked around at the touring delegates and took a deep breath.
“I originally wanted to show you all the glitz and the glamour of Sharjah. You’ve seen that by now. But there is a flipside to that coin, which is why we’re striving to attract bigger, better, and more successful companies. We want to provide our hard working labor force with better jobs so that they can attain a secure lifestyle. We have laws against subpar working conditions, including poor wages and benefits for that reason. Here in Sharjah, we believe that our workforce deserves to make a decent living, no matter where they are in the company, whether they’re at the top, the bottom, or anywhere in between.”
As he talked, he tried to gauge the reactions of the investors and was pleased to see interest in what he had to say. Casting a glance toward Rebecca, he was relieved to see her smiling at him.
As the tour shifted back outside, he continued. “This factory has been in operation for five years, and I can honestly say that this is an example of what we’re working against. While we appreciate the jobs, we need companies that won’t abuse our workforce by taking advantage of them.”
He hadn’t wanted to point out the negative but he also realized that if they’re going to make changes in Sharjah, honesty and transparency in some issues was necessary. He wished that he had the findings of the investigations he ordered so he could understand how it had gotten so bad, but he also needed to tell his investors why Sharjah needed their help.
As he opened his mouth to say more, an explosion at the other end of the factory shook the ground where they wer
e standing. Suddenly, they were surrounded by members of the security detail. “Sheikh Zaid!” one of the guards shouted. “Get down!”