Pamela and Chantal made their journey on their Harley Davidson motorcycles, rubbing shoulders with fellow bikers across the region, and sharing their story in The Open Road.
My stepfather tried to rape me when I was six years old. At that time, I had thought I had lived my worst days, but it was only the beginning. I was born at the dawn of the first day of July 1985. At a local
I was ten, when the Zionists Israeli soldiers killed my grandpa, and my once wealthy family lost all their fields of crops, olives and fruit trees and we were made into refugees. I was practically blind but through determination, perseverance and basic instinct of survival,
A junior journalist sat nervously waiting for his interviewee, in a dimly-lit office, located in an undesirable district of Beirut. As he pushed his spectacles back towards the bridge of his sweating nose, he surveyed the room, with its stained walls, rusting metal desk and
My grandfather, Spiridon Ivanovich, a skilled cook was the chef of Lenin and then later, Stalin. I was eager to hear about the old leaders some called tyrants. Grandpa was trained by the NKVD, the KGB’s predecessor, and passed away when I was 13. Then,
I was shopping in the supermarket with my five-year-old daughter, Amna, in the trolley. As I piled up the groceries, Amna was pulling unnecessary items off the shelves and putting them in the trolley. I calmly replaced each one in a ridiculous, endless circle of
I, Wissam, was a young Kuwaiti accounting graduate excited to get married to a young lady that was pre-arranged by my mother who selected her best friend’s daughter, Ritaaj. She was young and recently graduated with a Diploma in Nutrition. She was fun, bubbly and
My 23-year-old son, Jarrah, a tall, intelligent petroleum engineer sent me a message via WhatsApp in April 2014 informing me that he could not stand the international silence while Bashar Al Asaad was massacring the innocent and helpless Syrians. He asked for my forgiveness, blessings
I helped him pack but I was angry and disappointed in another lost vacation that Saif was spending with his friends instead of his three children and I, Haya, his wife of eight years. Everyone knows that single middle-aged men do not simply go to the
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