Hey there,

Curfews are back. Remote work is back. And honestly, is there ever a better moment to vent about the chaos of the world, preferably with a generous dose of humor and sarcasm, just like Madame Fifette did during the bizarre days of 2020?

As if the economy wasn’t already a rollercoaster from hell, we now find ourselves navigating an even wilder storm. Will it end? Maybe. Soon? Perhaps. But even our leaders seem unsure when that “soon” actually arrives.

Through it all, they say the best coping mechanisms are humor, vigilance, and compassion. So yes, take your time to vent, but also remember to check in on each other. Be a little gentler, a little kinder.

Because right now, the last thing anyone needs is a reprimand from the boss on top of everything else

Warm regards,

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Egyptian writers often capture a feeling that lives in every Egyptian. The sense that we are far less than we could be. That as a nation, we should have achieved so much more.

Why is it like this? What went wrong? Mohamed Tawfik explores these very questions in his books. Today, this is likely a question on the mind of every Egyptian. It lingers, unanswered, yet the feeling persists.

What has gone wrong? And in trying to grapple with it, we find ourselves asking an even heavier question: not just what went wrong, but whether this cycle will ever end.

Discover his work here.

She’s not shy, and she’s far from sweet. Madame Fifette is done with the world, and she doesn’t hold back. She lays out her thoughts with unflinching honesty. Honestly, who isn’t fed up these days? Whether it’s the chaos around us or the chaos within ourselves, she tackles it all. Right now, there may be no better time to revisit Madame Fifette’s rants and find a little humor in the madness.

Read the article here.

For pharmacists, nurses, doctors, sanitation workers, and delivery drivers, the idea of “lockdown” is almost absurd. They’re exempt from curfew, yes, but only because society depends on them to keep functioning. There’s no luxury of staying home; their bodies and minds are on the line every minute they clock in.

Informal workers don’t even have the option to step away. Earnings drop by half. And beneath it all is a bitter truth: many of these essential workers receive little thanks and even less understanding.

Some people appreciate them at checkpoints; others just want them to finish their shift quicker. Yet they keep going because if they didn’t, life, access to medicine, food, and basic services, would grind to a halt. In their own way, they’re holding up the country.

Read the article here.

The title is deliberately ironic, as this is no guide to rest and relaxation. It tells the story of a woman confined to her home for most of her life, slowly teetering on the edge of sanity as she asks herself: What could possibly be so terribly wrong?

Sharp, savage, and darkly funny, the novel follows her as she peers into the abyss, desperately seeking a moment of calm amidst the chaos. Through her string of uninspiring relationships and her extended, meandering conversations with her therapist, the novel gradually peels back the layers, bringing her closer to the truth of who she is.

Read more here.

Daydreaming about a different reality, a much more hopeful one, is at the heart of Noha’s song “Law f Zaman Tany.” Through her poetic lyrics, she explores the quiet longing for what could have been, imagining all the small, almost invisible moments that might have unfolded differently if life had taken another path. It’s a gentle meditation on possibility, a reflection on the “what-ifs” of our lives, and how much time and circumstance shape the moments we hold most dearly.

Listen here.

If you haven’t yet, take some time to watch and listen to “Doomscrolling Isn’t Solidarity.”

It’s a conversation that cuts straight through the noise and asks one simple but hard question: what actually counts as solidarity?

Right now, it’s easy to fall into the doomscrolling trap, endlessly refreshing feeds, consuming worst‑case headlines, and feeling like you’re doing something by staying “informed.” But as this episode insists, scrolling through pain after pain isn’t the same as standing with people who are living it. Doomscrolling numbs you. It fragments your attention. It makes the world feel heavy and hopeless, but it doesn’t make you more connected, more active, or more human.

Solidarity doesn’t happen in an endless loop of sharp headlines and reactive comments. Real solidarity is about action, creation, and presence, and engaging with stories deeply, learning from them, producing work that matters, and being there for others when they need support.

Watch it here.

What if you start your day with a special blend of coffee and flowers? There’s something so simple about adding a small flower to a purchase. A thoughtful touch that can lift someone’s mood. It may seem like the smallest gesture, but it has a way of brightening a day, even when it wasn’t expected.

Find out more here.

The Inner Nile explores the Egyptian landscape not just as a place, but as something deeply connected to the mind and human development. In this work, the Nile is more than a source of life, it becomes a flowing state of thought and shared memory. Blending the line between people and the land, the exhibition looks at how the river, with its long history and enduring presence, exists within us.

Find out more here.

On 31 March, the Transport General Authority launched Saudi Arabia’s first public autonomous vehicle linking Hayat Mall and Riyadh Gallery Mall with driverless electric cars. In testing, these vehicles completed 1,700 trips, carried 3,000 passengers and covered 30,000 kilometres without a human at the wheel. The cars, imported from China and adapted for local conditions, navigated Riyadh’s signature challenges: roundabouts, sudden lane changes, pedestrian crossings and summer heat that can fry lesser electronics.

Read more here.