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الآن . . . القسم العربي بحلة جديدة
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Amal Hanano
One Year of Hope
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, ...
Keep Reading »Houla: Not a Game Changer
Confession: the images of the carnage in Houla did not move me like they seem to have moved the rest of the world. Yes, they were tragic, horrific acts of violence against the most innocent of victims. But they didn’t break anything inside of me that was not already broken, nor did they raise the level of outrage or sorrow I feel everyday over what is happening in Syria. Maybe it was because in the twenty-fours hours before hearing about the Houla massacre, I had heard that ...
Keep Reading »The Real Me and The Hypothetical Syrian Revolution (Part 2)
Nine months ago my daughter, Tal Malouhi, a student in high school, was arrested by one of the branches of the security for reasons we do not know until this moment and I do not know anything about her fate. Sir, I knocked on the doors of all the security agencies and the presidential palace and all the official channels possible in order to be assured about my daughter or know anything about her fate or the cause of her arrest, but to no avail. Finally, I received a promise ...
Keep Reading »Finding Bayt Across Borders of Stone
No roads, not a single one, lead to the place where we had gotten ourselves.* I “met” Anthony Shadid the only way someone like me, a mere reader, can meet a journalist she admires: I emailed him a fan letter. I sent him my short note through the New York Times website and didn’t expect an answer. The next day, he emailed me a brief but warm thank you. Two days later, on May 10th, I read Anthony’s article on Rami Makhlouf—Bashar al-Assad’s cousin and the regime’s ...
Keep Reading »The Real Me and the Hypothetical Syrian Revolution - Part 1
The Syrian revolution undeniably belongs to the street. It’s rooted in the public realm where masses of physical bodies occupy the squares and real voices fill the air with defiance against the brutality of a relentless regime. The virtual realm of the revolution is a strong, second line of defense. Communities of online activists in Syria tirelessly spread the voices and events from the street as far and wide as possible, while the activists outside Syria continue the ...
Keep Reading »The Insha'at Exodus
Nadia* is a beautiful young lady from a prominent family in Homs. Every day for months, she would stare at her closet in agony; she had nothing to wear. Her behavior was typical of millions of girls her age around the world, but unlike those millions of girls, she wasn’t on her way to meet friends, go to a party, or spend the day shopping. She was going to a protest. She said her wardrobe decision was difficult because she had to choose an outfit that was fitting enough for ...
Keep Reading »While You Were Sleeping, Again
Another early morning in Baba Amr, another late night here. My plan is to write a simple post from a few reports on the day’s events in Homs, the fifth consecutive day of shelling in Baba Amr. Keeping an eye on Skype and Twitter and my ears tuned in to Omar Shakir’s livestream broadcast, I begin, intending to finish quickly with the goal of sleeping earlier than the last four nights. Omar’s livestream is calm. The quiet moments before dawn are punctuated by chirping birds ...
Keep Reading »One Morning in Homs
It is nighttime here, and I am about to go to bed. Before I disconnect from Syria, I notice Omar is on Skype. I send him a message telling him that his video on Anderson Cooper tonight was impressive. I tell him that he makes me proud to be Syrian. I tell him that I wished I was with them in Homs. A few seconds later, he sends me a link. I open it. Suddenly I am in Homs, at daybreak. He messages me: This is my livestream from Baba Amr. I plug in my laptop charger. It ...
Keep Reading »Nothing But My Words
“What are you getting out of this?” This is the question I have been asked over and over for the past ten months and three weeks by people in my real life. It is a legitimate question for all of us. What have all the hours we have spent tweeting and retweeting and Facebooking and blogging and writing and arguing and debating done for the Syrian people? Have they made a difference to the endless suffering of the Syrian people? Did they even minutely affect the tide of bloody ...
Keep Reading »Outside the Walls
Out of all the pieces of me, those little bricks that build what we call our identity, being from Aleppo is the one I can never change. Although I no longer live in the ancient northern Syrian city, Aleppo is the place I call home. Growing up, being from Aleppo was a source of extreme pride. As my father never ceases to remind me, we are not only from Aleppo, but we are from dakhel al-sour, inside the walls. “Inside the walls” is an exclusive term which means your family ...
Keep Reading »Bio
Amal Hanano is a Syrian writer.
