Stateless Families Suffer In Silence In Bahrain

Manama, Bahrain (AHN) - Mahmood Sayed Jawad is an Iranian by descent, but Bahraini by heart. He is no stranger on the streets of Muharraq, the second largest city here, where he's spent 60 years of his life and where several generations of his family have grown up. But he is a stranger in his own country, living in anonymity.

"I was 15 years old when I came to this country with nothing but hope for a better future. I have six children born here, who are not with me at this stage of my life. They are few miles across in Iran and cannot come here and I am too old to travel now. All because they are stateless like me," the octogenarian told the AHN.

There are around 200 stateless families like Jawad registered with the Al Ekha society here, some who have come out in the open and some who have spent their life in shadows of their own world, proclaiming Bahrain as their country. Society board member Shaikh Ali Suffar told AHN that these families were Bahrainis with or without the passports, as their mother tongue was Arabic and they had lived all their lives in the tiny island.

"I fear that I will die before fulfilling my dream of being considered as a real Bahraini," said Musa Amrallah Abdulkareem. "I was born here and never left the country. Foreigners are better than us as they have been living in Bahrain legally and benefiting from various health and other services," he said.

Years have passed by for these families and their children have grown up to realize they cannot travel.

"In Bahrain, cars have registration number indicating their ownership, but we stateless do not know where we belong," said another resident, who asked to be identified only as M.A.H. "All my nine kids were born here but they all are studying and working in United Arab Emirates (UAE). I am at the mercy of the immigration authority to approve my travel document to see their faces."

His concern was his children who asked him to join them in UAE."The laws are tough there and now my kids have no rights as they have no nationality," he said.

Stateless families are issued a one-time use temporary passport to travel only in the six Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries.

This never-ending "citizenship marathon" to prove identity on paper is much tougher when the children grow up and seek answers.

Ali Ahmed Ali, 48, father of two girls and a boy, said some questions have no answers.

"Why can't the authorities give our kids right to citizenship to secure their future. My daughter comes and asks her mother what went wrong. Our youngest son, who secured 96 percent [on his final exams], was speechless when he was recently asked by his teacher to name the countries he travelled. He had no answers."

The irony is that all the above cases have fulfilled the eligibility criteria set by the 1963 nationality law. The law stipulates a mandatory three-year residence for GCC nationals in Bahrain, 15 years for Arabs and 25 years for non-Arabs to obtain citizenship. Worse is that these families have to pay at health centers, cannot buy houses and face inheritance property issues because of their status. In a rare case, Adel Hussain Mohammed shows his official ID card that indicated his nationality as Iranian and not Bahraini.

Activists have been lobbying for years to amend the nationality law to help the stateless families and change a clause which would allow Bahraini mothers to pass on their nationality to their foreign husbands and children. The parliament's Foreign Affairs, Defense and National Security Committee reportedly rejected a proposal this year to amend the nationality law on the grounds of protecting women from being exploited by people who might marry them for the sake of a Bahraini passport.

Cases such as Jawad's and Ali's are being considered by immigration officials. Other stateless residents are denied passports because of pending criminal charges against. At the same time, top government officials have announced that Jewish returnees may be able to obtain full citizenship rights.

Jawad holds a tattered red driving license book, his only passport to his past and original identity.

"I want to die in this country with my red driving license with the picture of me in my suit and most important the red Bahraini passport in my hands. All I want is to become and be known as a citizen," he said, his sunken eyes filled with failing hope.