Look at the shimmering towers of Manama today and you’ll see more than just luxury; you’ll see a bit of a social tug-of-war happening right in the elevator lobby. We’ve built these incredible vertical communities, but we’re still figuring out the unwritten rules of how to live in them together.
When we talk about whether a delivery driver should jump in the same lift as a resident, it sounds like a simple question of logistics, but it actually digs into something much deeper: how we value the people who keep our city running.
Let’s be real – nobody wants to walk into a high-stakes meeting smelling like a neighbour’s fish biryani or share a cramped elevator with a friendly Rottweiler from the 38th floor, when even a street moggy petrifies you. From a purely practical side, service elevators are a lifesaver. They’re built to handle the heavy lifting, messy deliveries, and the trash so that the ‘commute’ to the penthouse stays smooth. In a busy skyscraper, having a dedicated space for logistics is just smart design, much like a fast lane on the highway.
The problem starts when we turn ‘practicality’ into a weapon for social distance. There is a profound emotional cost to being told one’s presence is a nuisance. Even in family-friendly dosa or burger diners, many customers don’t want their dining space to be intruded upon by delivery dudes sashaying into it. So we see huddles of deliverymen outside on the road in even the worst weather.
It’s a tricky question. I go to a restaurant to enjoy a leisurely meal and, perhaps, an Instagrammable moment. Should I be expected to put up with sweaty deliverymen tramping up and down?
Instead of letting this casual othering take over, why not have designated service doors for these men on motorbikes? It is about mutual convenience and not about teaching them their place. If we accommodate with grace, we avoid slipping into an old-school classist mentality that should have faded with the past.
The challenge for us in Bahrain is to find the balance with a bit more heart. If a rule exists to help someone with a severe allergy or to keep the carpets clean, that’s just common sense. But true progress requires us to ensure that while we may separate the ‘service’ from the ‘living space’ for efficiency, we never separate the ‘server’ from their humanity.
We must be vigilant that our pursuit of an orderly, odour-free ascent to our penthouses does not come at the expense of a culture that treats every individual with equal dignity.
At the end of the day, the scent of lunch fades, but the way we treat people sticks around much longer.
meeraresponse@gmail.com