A City of Dreams, A Life of Sacrifice
Dubai is a city built on dreams. The skyline dazzles, the malls gleam, and the promise of opportunity draws thousands from across Asia and Africa every year. But behind the glitter of this global metropolis lies a very different reality for many Dubai migrant workers—one of sacrifice, struggle, and silent strength.
In the heart of residential Dubai, tucked behind construction zones and high-rises, are modest housing units where up to nine people cram into a single room. Mattresses are layered, belongings hung from nails, and makeshift kitchens built out of whatever space is left. It’s not the dream they were sold, but it’s the price they pay for a better future.
No Choices, Just Hope
Most of these workers—hailing from countries like India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and the Philippines—did not come to Dubai expecting luxury. But what they didn’t expect was to be swept into a housing purge that forced them out of affordable accommodations and into overcrowded living spaces.
New government regulations, coupled with sudden evictions and a growing crackdown on overcrowded flats, have left many workers scrambling. With low salaries and rising rents, these migrants have little choice but to move in with friends or co-workers, squeezing into tiny rooms in neighborhoods like Satwa, Deira, and Sonapur.
“I didn’t want to live like this,” says Rahim, a 34-year-old construction worker from Bangladesh. “But I have to send money home. I can’t afford a studio or even a partition. So now, I sleep on the floor with eight others.”
Working Day and Night, Yet Struggling to Live
These men and women are the gears that keep Dubai running. They build towers, clean offices, deliver food, and drive cabs. They contribute to every layer of the city’s infrastructure—yet they remain the most invisible.
Their days start early, often before sunrise. By the time the city wakes up, they’re already halfway through their shifts. When they return home, it’s not to rest, but to shared toilets, limited space, and a constant hum of tired voices trying to hold onto their dignity.
Still, there is no bitterness in their tone—only endurance.
“I knew it would be hard,” says Maria, a 28-year-old cleaner from the Philippines. “But I didn’t expect it to be this lonely. I miss privacy, silence. But this job feeds my two children. That’s enough reason to stay strong.”
Eviction Notices and Constant Fear
Since 2024, there’s been a growing number of eviction notices sent to buildings suspected of overcrowding. Entire communities have been uprooted overnight. Some were given only a few days to leave, while others returned from work to find their flats sealed off.
The crackdown aims to ensure safer housing conditions, but for those at the bottom of the pay scale, it feels like a punishment for being poor.
Most landlords are unwilling to rent to low-wage workers unless grouped in bulk. But with the housing purge gaining speed, even these shared rooms are becoming rare and expensive. Prices have spiked, pushing more workers into illegal or semi-legal arrangements.
“We move every few months,” says Harinder, a delivery rider from India. “If the building gets checked, we lose everything. It’s a gamble, but what else can we do?”
Finding Moments of Joy Amid the Chaos
Despite the circumstances, these migrants create their own moments of joy. On weekends, many gather in parks or beaches, pooling together money for a simple meal or cricket match. They call family, share stories, and laugh at old memories.
Some use their free time to learn new skills—English lessons, mobile photography, or even basic coding through free apps and community centers.
Others have found small fame on TikTok or Instagram, documenting their lives and giving people back home a glimpse of both struggle and resilience. For many, this virtual world is their only outlet of expression and validation.
“We may live nine to a room,” says Raju, a security guard from Nepal, “but our dreams are big. One day, I’ll have my own business. One day, I’ll return home with pride.”
Solidarity and Silent Strength
In these cramped quarters, there’s a sense of community that runs deep. If someone is sick, others pitch in for medicine. If someone is jobless, they share food until work is found. It’s a silent system of mutual care built out of necessity and human instinct.
They come from different countries, speak different languages, but under the same tin roof or concrete room, they become family. And that is perhaps what gives them the strength to endure one more week, one more eviction notice, one more 12-hour shift.
What the Future Holds
As Dubai continues to evolve, the city will have to decide what kind of growth it wants to promote. A skyline is only as strong as its foundation—and these migrants are that foundation.
Policy changes need to come with support systems, not just restrictions. Affordable housing must be a reality, not a privilege. And most importantly, dignity must be restored to those who build and serve this vibrant city every day.
For now, the migrants of Dubai carry on—with hope in their hearts and resilience in their veins.
They may live nine to a room, but they dream as if they own the world.
Do follow UAE Stories on Instagram
Discover 16 Incredible Ways to Enjoy Your Weekend in Abu Dhabi
