In the late 1980s and early 1990s, it was never easy for a girl to tell her family that she had been harassed. “A girl is her reputation”, a phrase that summed everything up. The matter was buried, the girl punished with isolation and restriction, expected to obey or face consequences. In my case, I faced the punishment.

The world learned of Rafah only when it burst with blood and destruction, when its people overflowed with pain and exhaustion. You knew it through the massacre, not through the life that once pulsed within it.

Doublethink leads to what is known as cognitive dissonance, a theory proposed by psychologist and sociologist Leon Festinger. It describes a state of psychological tension that arises when behavior contradicts belief. The mind tries to resolve this tension by justifying the behavior or modifying the belief.

The Sa‘idi girl is not seeking a rupture with her traditions, nor surrender to restrictions that erase her presence. She seeks a middle space, broad enough for her voice and image without threatening her identity. That space is not yet fully formed, but it remains the clearest challenge facing an entire generation of Sa‘idi women in the age of social media.

It is no longer a secret that the slogans of justice and humanity have turned into a tragic joke. What was once a right people raised their voices to defend has become a heavy-handed jest no one wishes to hear, not because the words are flawed, but because of those who proclaim them.

Since the emergence of the modern state, controlling collective memory has been an essential tool of political power. Memory is rarely left to unfold spontaneously within societies; instead, it is appropriated by state institutions—curricula, media, museums, and even architecture. These mechanisms act as filters, promoting official narratives of history and events to justify the present and legitimize political futures.

It is said that Picasso spent his life learning how to draw like children. What does that even mean? Perhaps he believed that a child is the first to hold pure freedom of expression, untouched by rules, fear, or judgment. As soon as a child begins to grasp the world, he draws lines no one understands, yet he understands them completely because they flow straight from his inner universe.

In Palestine, art has transformed since the Nakba into an existential weapon against erasure and forgetfulness. The drawings of Naji al-Ali, the Palestinian Liberation Organization’s posters, refugee camp murals, and diaspora songs all built a visual and sonic narrative that never stopped resonating, despite oppression and displacement.

In an era when tyranny and oppression are practiced openly, eyes are drawn toward changing perspectives, while traitors dominate every corner. If you are in the midst of a corner, how can you reach anywhere? The corner can swallow you the moment you try to cross it, and attempts to escape death may lead to exile, so you must not stop trying.

Racism, in all its forms, has been one of humanity’s darkest inventions, and its impact has not faded with the end of slavery or the fall of empires. It remains stitched into laws, economies, identities, beauty standards, borders, and even languages.

The belief that marriage is a woman’s inevitable fate becomes deeply rooted, and the phrase “A woman has nothing but her husband” rises from a casual saying to a decision with binding force. Its consequences have not been confined to one generation, but have continued to cost many girls academic and professional opportunities that could have altered the course of their lives.

I have always been haunted by the question of the first sound that came from a human mouth, the first moment a human being used language. That primal sound through which one being tried to alert another to his presence, to say, “I am here.” What was he trying to express?

I don’t ask, and I doubt anyone does, why our youth, even our children, risk their lives on these boats of death. The reasons are obvious to all of us. The real question is: until when?

In Arab contexts, linguistic bias is intertwined with patriarchal social and religious structures that govern gender relations. Language here is far from neutral, it legitimizes inequality and perpetuates it.

Neglecting the concerns of youth is not merely a political or administrative flaw; it is evidence of a collective psychological state of nihilism and hopelessness toward the future. The young person who grows up in such an environment emerges alone, alienated within their own homeland, frustrated, not because they failed, but because they were never given the chance to try.

Justice is not an intellectual luxury but a prerequisite for the survival of nations. Without it, societies lose balance, wealth becomes a burden, and power turns into perpetual conflict. Social justice, in essence, is the redefinition of authority and resources in a way that preserves human dignity for all. It is the principle that restores the Arab individual’s confidence in themselves and their homeland—and inspires participation in building a future grounded in equality.

Since humans first inhabited the Earth, migration has been an integral part of their experience. It was never merely a physical move from one place to another but a movement imbued with hopes for salvation, a search for livelihood, or the desire for safety.

A person’s belief in their absolute right to freedom often stems from arrogance and blindness to the rights of others. They see themselves entitled to say whatever they wish—even when their words carry injustice or harm toward others. They demand freedom for their own voice while denying it to their opponents, hiding behind excuses like “personal boundaries” or “avoiding offense.”

The digital revolution has opened unprecedented horizons for Arab women. Through it, they have found a space to freely express themselves, share their thoughts and experiences with the world, and turn long-silenced voices into collective issues that resonate across Arab and global societies alike. A woman’s online presence is no longer a mere virtual appearance, it has become a tool of influence and participation, granting her the ability to break her traditional silence.

Awareness is our strongest weapon. Only through it can we confront the patriarchal mindset embedded in media and culture, and dismantle this intellectual and social tragedy that has exhausted us all.