What Was Supposed to Be an Ordinary Trip Turned Into a Memorable Experience for Several Tunisians Stuck in the Gulf
What should have been a routine journey became a striking ordeal for a number of Tunisians trapped in the Gulf states when the clashes and attacks involving Iran, the Zionist entity, and the United States abruptly shattered the region’s fragile balance.
Between the sudden closure of airspace, cancelled flights and contradictory information, travelers found themselves suspended in an uncertain limbo, confronting for the first time a reality they had only ever observed from afar: a conflict that can change the course of a life within a few hours.
Days of Uncertainty…
Borhene Dhaouadi was one of those travelers. He had set out for a ten‑day stay with his mother Samia, never imagining that this spiritual and family trip would stretch into a seventeen‑day adventure marked by doubt.
Their itinerary was meant to be simple: an Umrah pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia, cultural visits in Muscat, family meetings in Abu Dhabi and friendly reunions in Dubai. But suddenly the regional situation deteriorated, tensions took on a military dimension and the airspace began to close progressively.
“Flights would appear and then disappear. Information changed hour by hour. And the question became simple: how do we get home?” he recounts.
That moment marked a turning point for him. A phrase he had often read in newspapers—the situation in the Middle East—ceased to be a distant commentary and became a tangible reality.
During this prolonged waiting period, life around him seemed to go on almost normally. Cafés and restaurants stayed open, the streets of several Gulf cities kept their usual rhythm. Yet behind that apparent normality, phone alerts constantly reminded everyone of the fragility of the situation.
For Borhene, those days of uncertainty also highlighted the value of human relationships.
“Our friends in Jeddah, Muscat, Dubai or Abu Dhabi were essential. In moments like these, friendship becomes very concrete,” he emphasized, adding that this spontaneous solidarity turned a period of anxiety into a memorable human experience.
When the War Came Closer
Amel Karboul, also stranded in the region, lived a similar story. After two weeks of professional meetings in the Gulf, she was supposed to catch a flight back to London to reunite with her children. But the war altered her plans.
“Flights would appear and then disappear. The airspace opened and closed briefly. Security messages arrived every hour,” she explains.
The first night, as alerts warned of possible missile interceptions, she found herself in a situation she had never imagined. In her hotel room in Dubai, she moved away from the windows and spent part of the night in the bathroom—the only place without glass.
“Sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, I thought about how quickly life can change. A few hours earlier I was in the usual rhythm of meetings and projects. Suddenly I was thinking about safety, shelters and exit routes,” she recalled.
After several days of uncertainty, Amel finally found a way out by traveling overland through Oman, then onward to Cairo before returning home. It was a long journey, made possible thanks to the necessary visas and documents—a privilege she fully acknowledges.
A Human Perspective on Conflict
These experiences profoundly reshaped the two travelers’ perceptions. From afar, conflicts are often analyzed through the lenses of strategy or geopolitics. But when you are close to them, the perspective becomes deeply human.
“Parents think about their children. People simply wonder whether they will be safe,” observes Amel.
For Borhene, this pause in uncertainty also sparked a broader reflection. What he endured, he says, is only a tiny fraction of what populations living daily in the shadow of conflicts experience.
After several detours, he and his mother finally managed to reach Europe via Oman and Istanbul before returning to Tunisia.
“The return home,” he confides, “had a different flavor.”
These suspended days left a lasting imprint. They remind us how thin the line can be between stability and chaos, and how simple acts of solidarity can make a difference when normalcy wavers.
As a Tunisian proverb quoted aptly by Amel says:
“Only the one who walks on burning coals truly knows their heat.”
