Has the Decision Been Issued?

I had been in York for nearly three months, and my scholarship decision had still not been issued.

I would contact the ministry in Riyadh and ask about the decision. Each time, I was told to continue waiting. I would return to my studies, call again a few days later and hear the same answer.

Before coming to Britain, I had sold my car and left my job. Since arriving, I had been paying for my studies, accommodation and living expenses from my savings, without any source of income.

My wife, Alya, had been with me from the beginning of my journey to Britain. I alone carried the burden of the decision and the finances, and felt that responsibility for her rested on my shoulders. She, meanwhile, was my companion and emotional support, easing the loneliness of life abroad.

The weeks passed. The studying continued, and so did the waiting.

The school organised activities outside the classroom, and my Saudi classmates and the school’s other students would plan trips and visits. They would ask whether I was going with them; I would decline and return to our flat.

Even so, I did not stop learning. I wrote down every new word I heard at the school or in the street, looked it up in the Oxford Dictionary, then stuck it beside the bathroom mirror, in the entrance to the flat and on the wall opposite the bed. Each week, I replaced the words with new ones.

Then Alya’s sister became seriously ill, and Alya asked to return to her family. I booked her a ticket and took her to Heathrow Airport. She wept bitterly; she did not want to leave me in those circumstances, but her sister’s illness left her no choice. Alya departed for Saudi Arabia, and I returned to York alone.

After she left, my condition gradually deteriorated. In the flat, I began drinking tap water and eating toast with slices of cheese. Then the third rent payment fell due, along with the bills. I contacted the ministry again, and received the same answer: wait.

My Saudi classmates in York knew that I was the only person in that intake who had not been admitted to the scholarship programme, so they would take the initiative to help me, and I remain grateful to them for that. In Saudi Arabia, relatives and friends called constantly to check on me and offered to stand by me.

One day, I became dizzy and collapsed. I called one of my Saudi classmates, who came to me and took me to hospital. They gave me an intravenous drip and prescribed some nutritional supplements. I then left the hospital and returned to my flat.

I continued waiting for several more days. When I had nothing left and the decision had still not been issued, I called my mother in Riyadh and said:

— “Mum!”… book me a return ticket from London to Riyadh.