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 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.

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.

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.

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.

Our future begins at a school desk where a young girl sits, carrying her bag and smiling. Women’s education is not a luxury; it is life. A society that leaves its daughters uneducated chooses to live in darkness, while a society that opens schools for them builds a path toward justice, freedom, and progress.

Recognizing women’s right to be central voices in memory and justice is not a feminist luxury, it is a condition for survival. For the wombs that have become archives of life and death are the ones telling the world: We are here... and we will not be erased.

I’ve often wondered why the world’s problems seem like an endless maze. When we think about climate change, fear grips us; when we hear about migration, our anxiety deepens. Yet upon reflection, it becomes clear that these issues are not isolated,  they are interwoven threads in a single fabric that shapes our world and challenges us to rethink what social justice truly means.

Despite all hardships, Gaza’s women remain a source of inspiration. I see them studying, working, finding ways to survive, and helping each other through the harshest moments. Some have lost homes or loved ones, yet they never lose the ability to rise. They teach us that strength does not come from easy circumstances but from a heart full of hope. Each day, they prove they are the true foundation of a cohesive society, and that empowering them is not optional, it is the path

Since the dawn of history, women have been at the heart of civilization-building, yet they have long endured marginalization and deprivation of even the most basic rights.