UAE’s young women break the mould in private sector jobs market

While Emirati women are making great strides to bridge the gender gap in the work force, they are still often held back by their cultural, social and economic circumstances.

Alyazia Albufalah graduated from Zayed University with a degree in human resources in spring last year, but is still looking for a job that makes the best use of her qualifications. Delores Johnson / Show more

There are those who might say that an aluminium smelting plant is no place for a woman, but Amal Aljasmi isn’t one of them.

A 28-year-old chemical engineer, she is one of a growing number of Emirati women enjoying prolific careers in non-traditional fields. As an assistant development engineer at Dubal, she designs, models, develops, tests and validates aluminium electrolysis cell technologies used in smelting.

“In school I found myself good at maths and science, and as I got into my major I got more and more into the field,” she says. “You don’t find many females in these kinds of jobs. But it is becoming more common.”

Getting women into a wider variety of jobs is the key to bringing down unemployment and improving the balance between public and private sector jobs.

It is not always an easy task. Many Emiratis still prefer to work in government jobs, with an additional hurdle for women that even when they graduate, their degrees do not qualify them for today’s jobs market.

Alyazia Albufalah, 25, graduated from Zayed University in the spring of last year with a bachelor’s degree in human resources, but it has not made her more employable. “I began sending my CV everywhere and I’ve only had eight interviews.” Most potential employers never reply.

“Or they say they want fresh graduates and then in the interview they say: no, you have no experience. How can I have good experience if they won’t give me a chance? And how can fresh graduates serve the country if they are not given the opportunity?

Some say they’ll give me a job but I have to wait — now I’ve been waiting for nine months with no reply.”

According to surveys by Bayt.com, the Middle East online recruiting agency, seven out of 10 Emiratis would still rather avoid working in the private sector. But Suhail Masri, the vice president of sales, says it constantly receives applications from Emirati women interested in working in a variety of fields.

“Women are breaking all the stereotypes and entering all industries, in all roles, and succeeding on a par with men,” he says. While most Emirati women still work in occupations such as education, health care and the media, more are beginning to graduate in “male dominated” fields such as IT and engineering.

“They are entering those industries easily and, just like their male counterparts, succeeding by being skilled, ambitious, competent, competitive and hard-working,” Mr Masri says.

Ms Aljasmi says it was not easy starting work in a smelting plant. “In the beginning it’s tough to prove yourself. There’s a magnetic field, it’s hot, you have to be very careful and you need to learn about the process and the environment.

“Sometimes people tell me it’s OK to go back to the office if I want,” she jokes, “but you always have to be in the field a lot to check what’s going on with your design.”

After completing both a bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering and a master’s degree in engineering management, she turned to the private sector and found herself in high demand — choosing Dubal over Abu Dhabi-based jobs because she lived in Dubai.

Nevertheless, despite the growing acceptance of women in more technical occupations, those such as Ms Aljasmi are still in the minority, says Zack Abdi, the managing director of sustainability consultants Provectus Middle East and regular speaker on Emiratisation.

“People talk about Emiratisation but how do you do it?” he says. “For Emirati women, around 86 per cent of fresh university graduates are struggling to find work. The degrees they’re coming out with are not the ones needed in the market.

“The majority are not taking technical courses. There’s no peer pressure for them to become engineers. If a degree doesn’t meet what the private sector is looking for, that degree becomes a liability rather than an asset.”

Ms Albufalah, from Abu Dhabi. registered for Tawteen, a government service that helps Emiratis find work, within a month of graduating. However, Tawteen has yet to find her a job.

She believes there are plenty of jobs but that they are going to people who have contacts — “wasta” — and that she cannot compete with this.

“A lot people who did the interview with me only graduated from high school and they got the job because their contacts are working there,” she says. “I don’t have contacts. Why study if someone who has a high school degree can come and get the job easily?

“My brother did a master’s degree at Abu Dhabi University and his employer will not accept his master’s.”

For older women, having a family only makes finding work even harder.

Shamma Mohammed Al Mazrouie, 36-year-old divorcee with four children, married when she was 22 and never had a chance to pursue higher education. Her situation is complex — with career options limited not only by her lack of qualifications, but by her traditional values and children.

Ms Al Mazrouie has been on the Abu Dhabi job market since June. Although her high school diploma limits her options, she wants a respectable job because “reputation is a big thing in our society”.

She was recently offered a job as a bus supervisor; an inappropriate substitute for her dream of being a flight attendant, she says.

“I couldn’t accept such a job because my reputation would go down and people would point the finger.”

She also turned down Dh13,000 per month receptionist position at Emirates because it was in Dubai, and a late shift. “My children have no one besides me. If I could start work at eight in the morning and end around two, it would be such a relief.”

Like Ms Albufalah, she was disappointed with the help Tawteen provided. “They restricted my career choice. Tawteen needs to take into account the circumstances of divorced women and help us with a suitable career.”

Outside the big cities, options are also limited. In the Northern Emirates, women often become teachers, seen as a traditional female profession. But the market is flooded and employment opportunities are limited. Those who cannot find local teaching jobs are forced to make tough compromises.

Ahmed Al Dahmani is a 31-year-old economics and geography teacher at a Ras Al Khaimah government school. He says many of his family members, including his wife, work as teachers.

“It is hard for women to find good jobs,” he says “If they don’t find teaching jobs they either have to go to Ras Al Khaimah city for work 160km away — which is frowned upon in our tribal, traditional community — or stay at home and hope to get married and move to the city, or to another emirate.”

Mr Al Dahmani used to work in customs at Dubai Municipality, but soon grew weary of the daily 150km commute. He sympathises with the women in his village, who struggle to put their higher education into practice. “Often they end up marrying people much less educated than they are just to be able to move to more prosperous areas. These marriages often end in divorce due to the incompatibility between couples.”

Progress, though, is being made. One of the best examples is Strata, a composite aerostructures manufacturing facility in Al Ain and part of Mubadala Aerospace. It builds parts for planes using cutting-edge materials and techniques.

Almost 35 per cent of Strata’s employees are Emiratis, of whom 85 per cent are women. It expects half of its workforce to be Emirati by 2015.

Strata runs a two-year composite manufacturing apprenticeship programme teaching technical skills, vocational English and mathematics. Candidates then take an apprenticeship, which culminates in an approved aircraft technician composite qualification.

Mohammad Shaban, head of communications at Strata, says: “Al Ain society is conservative. We have been established here to be a catalyst of change.

“We want to encourage locals to look at the private sector, do their work by their own hands and not lie back and depend on the government to provide everything. It’s a living example to show locals are willing to do something if you give them a chance.

“Nine hours a day they work hard with their hands on the workshop floor without taking a rest.”