I have been teaching in the Middle East for almost 11 years. Employment law in the Gulf states is clear, strictly upheld and fair on both sides.

However, there also abound cautionary tales of teachers dismissed for offending a powerful parent or committing a social faux pas of a serious nature.

In such circumstances, there is little recourse or representation because, in most Gulf states, professional unions are illegal. While rare, I have seen cases occur in schools I have worked at.

Reality bites

However, as a rule-follower, people-pleaser and hard worker, I have always found a relatively smooth path as an international teacher.

Five years ago, my husband and I joined the staff of a non-profit school we had long admired from a distance.

We taught our hearts out, built relationships with colleagues and started a family of our own.

Then came the pandemic. In remote learning, we found ourselves working harder than ever to help the school justify charging full fees.

As a country and as a family we experienced the emotional and mental strain of lockdown.

Sadly, though, a little while ago our principal sent out a video warning of possible redundancies but promising a “fair and transparent” process.

However, at the same time, emergency laws were passed allowing employers to terminate contracts without due process.

One week before the end of a long and lonely term, all staff received an email saying that, within 30 minutes, termination notices would be sent to certain people.

If you hadn’t received an email by 10.30am, you were safe - for now. I reassured my husband that it wouldn’t affect us - after all, we had been promised a fair and transparent process.

Surely not us?

We’d been with the school for five years. Within the last year, we’d both been put through threshold; we were respected within the parent community and with colleagues and had excellent academic outcomes with our classes.

Neither of us had ever had as much as a verbal warning. It wouldn’t be us.

10.28…10.29... I walked away from the computer to fix snacks for our two young children.

10.30. “I’ve been sacked!” my husband shouted. Rolling my eyes, I called back to stop messing around. “I’ve been sacked!” came the insistent reply. I knew instantly I had the same email waiting in my inbox. Quickly confirmed. Along with an invitation to meet the principal that afternoon. A blur. All the emotions.

3pm. Masked and sanitised, I looked into the principal’s eyes as he admitted this decision had been neither fair nor transparent. It didn’t matter what he had promised previously - the law was on their side.

He even went as far as explaining that a fair and transparent process takes weeks to complete, and we ought to be grateful this hadn’t had to drag out all summer.

He was not prepared to go into the reasons, only hinting at “some issues”.

Time to go

There was no recourse, no representation. By the time we got home, our access to the school network and email had been suspended. Just like that.

In the midst of a pandemic and economic crisis, we found ourselves with mere weeks to pack up our family home of five years, sell our furniture and cars and bundle our children (and dog) to - well, where exactly?

We had planned to be at this school for the next 20 years. We had planned for our children to complete their A levels there. This was our vision of how our lives would be.

This was our mistake.

International teaching is full of opportunity. But you must go in with your eyes wide open. It is not like working in the UK. You are a guest in your host country. It is not your home and your rights are not the same.

A happy outcome

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending. Within two days, we were both offered jobs at another school in the same city.

We can stay in our house. Our children’s summer will not be defined by having their toys sold off and leaving the only home they’ve ever known.

The only difference to us as a family is that, come September, we will now turn right instead of left at the end of the road when we drive to school.

We’re still standing - possibly better than we ever did.

The author is a teacher based in the Middle East who has taught internationally for 11 years