For Saeed Mohammed Al Rubiha, the strong aroma of maleh is not merely food — it is memory, survival, and heritage.
The 75-year-old from Dibba Al Hisn has spent his life by the sea. He began fishing at the tender age of five, accompanying his grandfather on his first voyage. “I was way too small then,” he recalled with a smile. “When my grandfather asked me to hold the fish, I let it slip back into thEmiratie sea. I had no answer, only that I was a child and didn’t know any better.”
Fishing, he explained, was not simply an occupation but the lifeblood of his family. “Every generation in my family lived off the sea. Fish was not only food for us but also a way of trade and survival,” he said.
Seasons of survival
Before electricity and refrigeration, life along the UAE coast was challenging, and preservation was essential. Winters brought calm seas and plentiful fish, while scorching summers restricted fishing expeditions. To survive, families turned to maleh — fish salted and stored for months.
“In winter, we would catch tuna, kingfish, and trevally,” Saeed said. “We preserved them in barrels of salt and ate them through the summer. Maleh was survival itself.”
The process was meticulous: fish were cleaned, gutted, salted, and stacked in wooden barrels. “The salt kept them safe for months,” he said. Today, plastic containers replace barrels, but the practice endures.
More than food: a currency
For coastal families, maleh also served as currency. “We used to barter fish for rice, salt, or dates. Sometimes even for clothes. Our maleh travelled not just to nearby villages but across the country and even beyond,” Saeed explained.
This exchange system connected coastal fishermen with inland farmers, weaving an ecosystem of trade and mutual dependence.
Heritage that endures
Despite modern comforts and supermarkets, Saeed remains determined to keep the tradition alive. “My children know how to make maleh. It’s not just food, it’s about remembering who we are,” he said.
His dedication has been recognised at heritage events, including the Maleh Festival, where the practice is celebrated as part of Emirati culture. “Visitors are amazed at how something so simple — salt and fish — became the foundation of a whole economy,” he noted.
Even today, a single bite of maleh transports Saeed back to his childhood. “It reminds me of long days at sea with my grandfather, barrels in our courtyard, and my mother cooking rice with maleh. Life was tough, but it was full of strength.”
For his family, maleh represents more than sustenance — it embodies survival, resilience, and identity. “Maleh is more than food,” Saeed said firmly. “It is our history, our survival, and our identity. When I open a container today, I feel the past is still alive.”