Against all odds, one man is making honey in the desert of Qatar

Now living on the opposite side of the Arabian Peninsula, in the desert state of Qatar, this is where I meet Khalid Al Suwaid, Qatar’s most successful apiarist. Dressed in pristine white thobe—the traditional ankle-length robe—and gutra—the white square sheet held down with the agal, a black cord—he looks more the businessman than the farmer and beekeeper.

RELATED: Meet the man behind India’s living ‘rice museum

But that first impression is quickly dispelled. He tells me enthusiastically that he made his first beekeeping outfit from his gutra, the traditional headcloth, and adding swimming goggles and gloves. He was eight years old when he was collecting honey for his father from the local wild bees—a rather vicious dwarf variety known as jungle bees—which had formed a colony on a tree in their garden.

It was the beginning of a journey for Al Suwaidi. A journey that was not necessarily straightforward. He first went to university to study Media and later Business, before he decided to combine his love for bees and honey with his entrepreneurial streak and become the first professional honey producer in Qatar.

“I plant Sidr trees around my farm, to shield the inside from the wind,” he tells me. “Inside, there are more trees, providing shade, and my hives all have a steady supply of water to keep the bees hydrated.”

- Khalid Al Suwaidi

“Once I decided to keep bees professionally and produce local Qatari honey, I went to Europe to learn all about beekeeping,” Al Suwaidi tells me. “But it was useless information, as the circumstances here in Qatar are so very different from those in Europe.

“Here, we have temperatures above 50⁰C (122⁰F), high humidity, strong winds, sand in the air, and little vegetation. I basically had to learn through trial and error. Eventually, I even became the first local beekeeping teacher, teaching some 50 students how to keep bees in the desert.”

But it was through the import of Egyptian bees, bred especially to withstand extreme heat, that his business finally started to grow.

“The wild bees found in Qatar do not lend themselves to being cultivated,” says Al Suwaidi. “They hate humans and if I were to approach them more than once, they would simply move their colony somewhere else. They only live in wild hives and would die if confined to a box hives.”

After unintentionally killing some bees as a child during his first ‘honey-harvest’ and being severely scolded for that by his father, the wellbeing of his bees is of utmost importance to Al Suwaidi. So, I asked him, how do you keep bees happy and healthy with nature being against you?

“I plant Sidr trees (Ziziphus tree, a deep-rooted, spiky tree of the Buckthorn family that grows naturally in Qatar) around my farm, to shield the inside from the wind,” he tells me. “Inside, there are more trees, providing shade, and my hives all have a steady supply of water to keep the bees hydrated.”

RELATED: Carpenters, designers, plumbers… The women kick-starting female empowerment in Pakistan

Visiting the farm at Bu Saif Apiaries at Al Shahaniya, some 30 kilometers west of Doha, I have a chance to see the bees in action, living and working in hives, snuggled into the shade provided by Sidr and palm trees, and near irrigation streams. Compared to the arid desert just beyond, the green, fertile surroundings seem something of a haven.

And they appear to be thriving. Last season, some 2,000 hives produced 6,400 kilograms of honey. In Qatar, each year has two seasons for Qatari beekeepers. There is the Sidr season, when only the Sidr trees (and nothing else) flowers in Qatar. Then there’s spring, when other plants burst into flower.

But it’s the Sidr honey that’s typical of the region. Just as grapes in one country can produce different wines depending on the land, exposure, amount of rain and other factors, there are several different Sidr honeys produced here, in even a small country such as Qatar, depending on location and circumstances.

Dark honey is best for stomach ailments, light for coughs, he explains, while Sidr honey, of a medium amber hue, is not only good for the brain, but also your hair and skin. I feel I’m back in the Yemeni honey shop.

After having taken years to prove to the world that a desert country like Qatar can indeed produce top quality pure honey naturally, Al Suwaidi is not resting on his laurels.

Forever creating more honey-adjacent delights, he has recently launched a range of candles made from beeswax for foreigners, because, he says with a wink, “foreigners are romantic,” while locals simply do not care for candles.

He’s also working on a beehive that will be perfect for local conditions. It will keep bees cool and refreshed—at a comfortable temperature level inside that works with the temperatures outside. If there’s more than six degrees’ difference, the bees go into shock and die, he tells me.

Al Suwaidi then offers me varieties of local honey such as Al Shahaniya Sidr, Al Shamal Sidr, and an Omani variety, produced from the nectar of the Samar tree, to sample. I taste my way through honeys ranging from white, which apparently does not change the taste of tea if used as a sweetener, to the dark and thick Omani Samar.

Al Suwaidi expounds on the power of knowledge when it comes to choosing the right honey for the right occasion. Dark honey is best for stomach ailments, light for coughs, he explains, while Sidr honey, of a medium amber hue, is not only good for the brain, but also your hair and skin. I feel I’m back in the Yemeni honey shop.

The Royal beekeeper to King Charles the Second allegedly once said: “The bee is an exquisite chemist.” In Qatar, the humble bee needs a little help to do its magic on a commercial level, but it seems Al Suwaidi has the perfect mix of enthusiasm and skill to get the most out of his desert-dwelling bees.