Hamad Town

Hamad Town may not be on most guidebooks’ itineraries, but the calm of its streets tells a story about Bahrain’s modern society. Picture it at dawn: wide palm-lined avenues are silent and cool. By late afternoon, small stalls of shawarma and tea appear at street corners, drawing passersby for a quick bite. The town’s orderly rows of low, boxy homes (usually white or pastel concrete blocks with simple flat roofs) give the place a formal, planned feel. This uniformity hints at its origins: Hamad Town was carefully built all at once in the 1980s as a government housing project. Unlike the winding alleys of old Manama, Hamad Town’s streets were laid out in a grid around 22 large roundabouts, with every utility and park installed from day one. In other words, it feels less like an organically grown village and more like a modern campus or suburb designed on a blueprint.

Established in 1984, Hamad Town was explicitly called a “housing town.” The Bahraini government constructed hundreds of modest “council houses” here for middle- and lower-income citizens who could not afford the expensive apartments in the capital. Initially these homes were rentals (the state owned the land and buildings, and tenants paid cheap subsidized rents). It was a form of social welfare funded by Bahrain’s then-oil boom. The earliest residents included teachers, police officers, office workers and others in public service – ordinary Bahraini families chosen to move here because they needed affordable housing. By design, these families of different backgrounds were all mixed together from the start. In fact, Hamad Town’s planners deliberately did not segregate by sect or tribe, so its population has always been diverse. In practice today you will find Shia and Sunni Muslim families – and even a small number of expatriate households – living side by side, attending the same schools and shopping at the same markets. As one observer put it, no single religious or ethnic group forms a majority in Hamad Town; it is, in a sense, a living mosaic of Bahrain’s multicultural society.

Named after King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, the town occupies about six square kilometers in the Northern Governorate (the official region of Bahrain that now administers it). It was originally its own municipality, separate from the old city of Riffa, until a 1991 reorganization merged it into the Northern Governorate. Today local matters like minor road fixes and parks are managed by elected municipal councilors, but no local law-making power exists (all laws come from Manama). In return, Hamad Town enjoys the same level of public services as the capital – street lights, 24/7 water and electricity, waste collection – all funded by the national budget. For the resident, daily life feels fully urban, even if political control is centralized.

Table of Contents

1 A Refuge and a Gift
2 A Diverse and Growing Community
3 Geography and Neighbors
4 Streets, Roundabouts, and Transport
5 Commerce and Community Life
6 Commerce and Community Life
7 Hamad Town Today: A Modern Microcosm of Bahrain

A Refuge and a Gift

The history of Hamad Town has had a few surprising chapters. In 1990–91, during the Gulf War, the Bahraini government opened Hamad Town’s doors to Kuwaiti civilians escaping Saddam Hussein’s invasion. Dozens of Kuwaiti families were housed temporarily in the town. Classrooms and playgrounds in Hamad Town would for that season include Kuwaiti children alongside local kids. The Kuwaitis were provided free homes, schooling and medical care while there. By spring 1991, once Kuwait was liberated, the Kuwaiti residents left, and things returned to normal.

A decade later, in 2001, Bahrain marked a different kind of milestone here. The government gave ownership of the town’s council houses to the tenants for free. Overnight, renters became homeowners with legal titles to their houses. This bold transfer was meant as a reward to long-term residents and helped stabilize the community. People who had lived and worked in Hamad Town since its founding suddenly had a permanent stake in it. In practice, that meant families spruced up their homes: repainting walls, planting small gardens, and otherwise improving their property. The act of turning modest rental homes into family-owned ones cemented Hamad Town as a place of permanent residents rather than transients.

A Diverse and Growing Community

Because it was conceived as a social housing project rather than a single tribe’s enclave, Hamad Town remains notably mixed. Sunnis and Shias share blocks and classrooms, and one often hears English or Hindi along with Arabic in the streets, reflecting Bahrain’s international links. Daily life gives little hint of sectarian division – men and women of all backgrounds shop side by side and children play together. In this way Hamad Town is sometimes praised as “an epitome of Bahraini multiculturalism”. The neighborhood mosques accommodate different communities (for example, Kanoo Mosque by Roundabout 2 and Al Ajoor by Roundabout 10 serve their districts), but on the sidewalk everyone meets as neighbors. In short, Hamad Town works as an ordinary Bahraini town where faith and politics take a back seat to everyday concerns like family and work.

Over the years its population has steadily climbed. A 2005 census put about 52,700 residents in Hamad Town; since then the number has risen further with new apartments and villas filling in the gaps. Today, by population density, Hamad Town actually exceeds Isa Town (another planned Bahraini city from the 1960s). The growth came from adding more housing projects, not from any one industry, so the social mix stayed broad. The town tends to be younger and more working-class than some older cities: many households have school-age children, and public and private school campuses are scattered through town. (In fact, the University of Bahrain’s main campus lies just to the south in Sukheer, meaning some students and faculty commute through Hamad Town.) Despite hundreds of families, the feel remains quiet. One writer notes that the people of Hamad Town simply go to Manama to work and education, treating the town itself primarily as home.

Daily Rhythm: The pace of Hamad Town is gentle. Mornings often start slowly: most shops open around 9 AM, so before that the streets are nearly empty. The midday call to prayer (Adhan) brings men home or to the mosques for a pause in work. In the hotter months, the afternoon hush is deep – shopkeepers roll down shutters and retreat indoors. But by late afternoon, life resumes: children race through the roundabouts on bikes, neighbors catch up at corner cafes, and a few roadside stands open for shawarma and tea. Fridays are special: after communal prayers the town becomes festive with family visits and shared meals. On weekends (Bahrain’s Friday-Saturday), residents might take advantage of Hamad Town’s proximity to recreation – for example, picnicking in the nearby Sakhir desert or visiting Bahrain International Circuit during public events. Throughout it all, Hamad Town’s mixed community goes about a quintessentially Bahraini day together.

Geography and Neighbors

Geographically, Hamad Town lies on the flat northern plain of Bahrain, a small island nation. The turquoise Gulf waters are just a few kilometers to the north, and on clear nights one can sometimes see lights across the sea or the distant silhouette of Manama’s skyline. By road, it is roughly 18 km southwest of central Manama and about 19 km from Bahrain International Airport. In practical terms this means a 20–30 minute drive links Hamad Town to the heart of the capital or to the airport. To the southeast stretches the wide open desert of Sakhir, home to the Bahrain Formula 1 track. On race weekends, the highways near Hamad Town can become busy with commuting fans, but otherwise the area is tranquil.

The town is surrounded by other newer suburbs and industrial areas. The highway running along Hamad Town’s east edge (the Shaikh Khalifa bin Salman Highway) provides quick access north to Manama and south to Isa Town. Five highway ramps feed directly into Hamad Town at roundabouts 0, 6, 14, 18 and 22. To the west lie a few sparse villages and farm plots; northward are the towns of Juffair and Al Hidd closer to the coast. Because Bahrain is small, nothing is far: one can drive from Hamad Town to any part of the island in under an hour. The flat land and the orderly development make Hamad Town feel as open as a European suburb – a contrast to the more built-up city center.

Hamad Town’s climate matches that of the Gulf: very hot, arid summers and mild winters. Summer days (April–September) routinely hit 40 °C (104 °F), making midday activity rare. In fact, during midday off-season it’s common for almost everyone to pause – shops close and the streets are quiet. Planners mitigated this by planting date palms and shade trees along major streets. In winter months (November–March), the weather is pleasantly cool and even brings occasional rain – the best season for outdoor walks and playground time. In all seasons, residents have adapted to the sun’s rhythm: lawns are watered at night, and most social life moves indoors during peak heat.

Streets, Roundabouts, and Transport

One immediately notices Hamad Town’s 22 numbered roundabouts. Each is a large traffic circle that anchors a cluster of houses or shops. The town was intentionally designed this way: straight roads radiate from each roundabout like spokes on a wheel. Locals give directions by these circle numbers – for example, an address will be “House 15, Roundabout 3” rather than a street name. Because of this, maps and GPS labels in Hamad Town refer to roundabouts. (A visitor might look in vain for an “Elm Street” – the key is to know roundabout numbers.) Once accustomed to the system, driving becomes straightforward: you simply go to the appropriate roundabout and then onto the block. Every block is quickly reachable since the grid is uniform and without traffic lights on the internal roads.

Each roundabout is a low concrete island. Some have planted shrubs or palms in the center; others are plain. Traffic flows around them without stoplights – drivers yield in turn to keep traffic moving. Newcomers sometimes find them confusing, but Bahraini drivers are polite: cars usually alternate entering and exiting. At night, streetlights illuminate the circles, giving them a soft glow. The signage is pragmatic: at each circle, signposts list the names of all neighborhoods (or block numbers) connected there, in Arabic (and often English). This makes even visitors feel oriented after a short time – for example, knowing that a friend lives “right after Roundabout 14” is sufficient.

The roads themselves are wide and straight, each with space for parking on the curb. They resemble avenues rather than narrow lanes. This reflects the town’s modern planning: streets can accommodate emergency vehicles and moderate traffic without bottlenecks. House numbers on each street typically run from the roundabout outward, so an address like “5/3 A — 23” clearly tells one which block and which number near Roundabout 5 it is. (In short, the numbering logic is consistent rather than arbitrary.) This neat grid – and the absence of alleys – means Hamad Town feels orderly at all hours.

Beyond Hamad Town’s streets, the Shaikh Khalifa Highway is the main transport link. Five ramps (numbered exits) connect it to Hamad Town. This highway allows drivers to reach downtown Manama or the airport in about 15–20 minutes. During peak hours the highway can be busy, but once you exit onto Hamad Town’s circle system the pace slows and the crowds thin.

Public transit within Hamad Town, by contrast, is very sparse. A handful of Bahrain Public Transport bus routes pass through, stopping only at major roundabouts, and even they run infrequently. Many locals describe the buses as unreliable for daily use. As a result, nearly everyone drives. Schoolchildren ride yellow school buses or private vans to local schools, and adults take taxis or personal cars. In practice, Hamad Town was built for cars, not buses. (For visitors, this means the town is easiest reached by car or taxi. There is ample parking near the Sooq Waqif and around the big roundabouts. Locals often use ride-hailing apps, and very few visitors try to navigate the bus system here.)

Commerce and Community Life

Though residential, Hamad Town has all the usual shops and services a suburb needs. The largest commercial center is Sooq Waqif, a multi-story market building. Inside it contains dozens of shops and small businesses: grocery stores with local produce, clothes and shoe shops, electronics and phone vendors, little cafés and bakeries. For daily needs, families simply walk or drive to Sooq Waqif instead of going far. It also provides local jobs – bakers, clerks and salespeople from Hamad Town work there daily. Every morning, the market opens early so that fresh bread and fruit can be bought. In late afternoons and evenings, it becomes a meeting place as neighbors gather for coffee and tea. The aroma of baked goods and spices often drifts onto the sidewalks, inviting people to pause for a snack.

Outside Sooq Waqif, smaller shops dot the streets. At most roundabouts you will find a mini-market or convenience shop, often open into the late evening. These sell staples like bread, milk, canned goods and snacks. Barbershops, hair salons, mobile-phone stores, and hardware shops occupy corners on various blocks. Take-away food stands – selling falafel, shawarma or grilled corn – give parts of town a light, street-market ambiance at lunch and dinner hours. Such corner shops mean that even in the most residential blocks, no one is far from the basics of daily life. (For specialty items or large malls, residents typically drive to bigger shopping centers in Manama or Riffa.) In sum, Hamad Town’s commercial life is modest but complete: all day long, small clusters of shops keep a gentle bustle.

Two neighborhood mosques anchor Hamad Town’s social life on a religious level. Kanoo Mosque (between Roundabouts 2 and 3) and Al Ajoor Mosque (at Roundabout 10) serve their surrounding areas. They are simple concrete buildings by modern Gulf standards, but on Friday (Jumu‘ah) they draw hundreds of worshippers in clean white garments. Every day at prayer times, one hears the call to prayer echoing through the streets, and men and boys leave shops or jobs to pray inside or at home. Outside those rituals, the mosque courtyards and neighboring streets become places for casual conversation – elders on benches exchange news, children run in the shadow of the minarets, and visitors may be greeted with friendly salams. These ordinary moments – chatting by a mosque in mid-afternoon, or passing neighbors at the market – are the essence of community life in Hamad Town.

For recreation and exercise, the town has a handful of simple parks and playgrounds. Many are tucked next to the schools or near roundabouts. They include swings, slides and small grassy areas. In the cooler seasons, families bring children here in the late afternoons. Local youths will often play pickup soccer in a parking area or a vacant lot after school. There is no grand stadium or amusement park in Hamad Town itself, but that does not mean people do nothing. On weekends, one might see families driving out to the Sakhir desert for a picnic under the palm trees, or to larger attractions in neighboring towns. The local parks and even a few street-side playgrounds fill the role of “public space” within Hamad Town. As dusk falls, you’ll find groups gathering by park benches or sipping tea at outdoor cafes (the small restaurants by Sooq Waqif get lively), with the day’s quiet giving way to soft evening life.

Daily Rhythm: In Hamad Town, the day follows a gentle pattern. Mornings are calm (shops open mostly after 9 AM), and midday brings a brief pause for prayer. By evening, the town reawakens: children pedal between roundabouts, neighbors meet in a coffee shop, and mosques again fill for the sunset prayer. The human presence is most visible late in the day – during summer’s heat everyone hides indoors until sundown. Around Friday lunchtime and evening prayers there is often a festive mood, with larger family gatherings and visits. Saturday (the weekend) has a relaxing pace: many locals will visit relatives in other parts of Bahrain or go out for a drive. For the curious traveler, Hamad Town offers a glimpse of such everyday rhythms rather than tourist highlights.

Commerce and Community Life

Administratively, Hamad Town is part of Bahrain’s Northern Governorate. Its own municipal councilors are elected by residents, but these local officials mainly advise on projects – they cannot pass legislation. (By law, Bahraini governorates are forbidden from making their own laws; all legal authority comes from the central government.) In effect, Hamad Town is managed much like a city suburb: national agencies handle utilities, roads and planning. The advantage is obvious: all major infrastructure (roads, water, electricity) comes from the well-funded national budget. Indeed, if a main road needs widening or a school needs building, Hamad Town gets its share of the kingdom’s resources.

On the other hand, some residents feel they lack local autonomy. For example, traffic-calming measures or small business incentives would have to be implemented by Manama, not by Hamad Town’s own council. Still, life in the town today is largely self-sufficient. It has its own branch of the national library, a public health clinic, and even a small police station. Combined with its grocery shops and schools, this means that for daily needs – education, medical care, shopping – one rarely has to leave town. (Of course, for major hospitals, universities, or luxury shopping, Manama is still the destination.)

Growth has continued: new villas and apartment blocks have filled any vacant lots. Today Hamad Town is one of the most densely populated residential areas in Bahrain. Its population now surpasses Isa Town’s, marking it as the country’s busiest “new town” suburb. Even so, the character remains residential. There are almost no large factories or shopping malls within Hamad Town itself; most jobs are outside town, and the skyline has few tall buildings. In practical terms, Hamad Town is essentially a large housing estate with its own markets and schools, rather than a separate commercial center.

Hamad Town Today: A Modern Microcosm of Bahrain

Hamad Town may lack famous attractions, but in the quiet details of its streets one can read the story of contemporary Bahrain. The very existence of the town reflects the country’s development: it was born from an oil-fueled vision of social housing and grew into a pluralistic community. A visitor strolling here sees ordinary life rather than monuments. Schoolchildren in neat uniforms dash home at the end of the day; neighbors sweep their front porches or sit with tea by the road.

The absence of luxury car dealerships or international brand stores (common in Manama) means everyday commerce is humble – a used furniture shop, a bakery, a pharmacy – yet these are essential threads of society. The smallest details speak volumes: a Bahraini flag fluttering on a balcony, a colorful mural painted by local youth on a concrete wall, a grandfather chatting in Arabic while his grandson listens. These scenes, ordinary as they are, tell us that Hamad Town’s residents come from many walks of life but share the same modest suburb.

In many ways, Hamad Town is a living mosaic of Bahrain’s society. It grew from a government housing project into a mature, multi-ethnic neighborhood, showing how national policies play out on the ground. There are no soaring landmarks here, but the final picture is coherent: homes on street corners, every family’s fate quietly linked to those next door. The fact that so many long-term tenants have become homeowners together is a testament to Bahrain’s social solidarity.

And while Hamad Town’s sidewalks carry few foreign tourists, its rhythm is familiar to any Bahraini family. As evening falls and the adhan sounds again, even the ordinary harmony of this town becomes a mirror of the country’s growth and change. It is, quietly, Bahrain’s story in microcosm – told not in marble and glass, but in the lived reality of an unassuming neighborhood.