Latest news with #Samira
Kuwait Times
3 days ago
- General
- Kuwait Times
Kuwait's book club revival: A quiet revolution in connection
Literary communities are creating much-needed spaces for nauthenticity, belonging and dialogue in a fast-paced world By Rayan Alamiri In a country where many spaces feel either purely commercial or overly familiar, a quiet revolution is unfolding in the corners of cafés, bookstores and private living rooms. Kuwait's emerging literary communities — book clubs, workshops and informal meetups — are offering an antidote to the disconnection many people quietly experience. Hawraa Al Khalaf, a Kuwaiti author, describes this yearning simply: 'Community is not just about common interests. It's about connection.' In Kuwait, where people often gather in the same places yet feel a persistent loneliness, this connection has never felt more urgent. There's a documented rise in demand for these spaces, which serve as a bridge between work or school and home. Many people speak of a sense of disconnection or feeling limited in their social options. In a small country where so many frequent the same venues, how could anyone feel lonely? Yet that's the paradox many experience. Bookstores and cafés can't be credited for creating communities — they are simply the backdrop. These venues act as 'third places', where people can safely explore ideas and identity beyond their professional or domestic roles. While the appetite for such spaces is growing, they remain rare. Creating and sustaining them isn't easy — financial costs, a lack of locally relevant books, and the risk of commercializing inclusive spaces all pose challenges. Samira Jafar, a writer and English teacher who studied at Boston University and earned a master's in linguistics, knows these obstacles well. After returning to Kuwait with no creative outlet or community, she founded The Shelf, a nonprofit book club devoted to accessible literature and meaningful conversation. Hawraa Al Khalaf Mai Al-Nakib Samira Jafar 'I missed being able to discuss literature and art with people,' she explained, 'and have conversations that touch on social and political issues.' Determined to remove financial barriers, Samira ensures The Shelf remains free and inclusive. With an active social media presence, joining is simple — anyone can message @theshelfkw on Instagram to be added to the WhatsApp group. This philosophy contrasts sharply with a growing trend in Kuwait, where many cultural initiatives start as nonprofits but eventually pivot to profit models once they gain a following. Samira's refusal to commercialize The Shelf has made her a quiet pioneer in Kuwait's reading culture. Members describe the club as a space to reclaim time, rediscover intellectual curiosity, and step outside the routines of daily life. For some mothers, it's the only place they feel free to read and express themselves. 'My favorite part about The Shelf is that it feels like I'm back in my old literature classroom —different minds, different stories, different people, all connected by the love of books. The Shelf feels like a chosen family trope, in the cutest intellectual girly way,' Dina AlQinai shared. Jenan Aldhubaib echoed this sentiment. 'Having a space where you can express how deeply you feel about a book is freeing. Many might find the emotional attachment to characters insignificant, but for just a little while, reading makes everything seem okay. For the first time, I can share opinions and feel heard.' Beyond the book clubs themselves, a thread of nostalgia runs through this cultural shift. The growing popularity of vintage cameras, scrapbooks and film photography reflects a broader pushback against the relentless pace of digital life. As Mai Al-Nakib, author of The Hidden Light of Objects, put it: 'Turning to the past becomes a way of insisting on personal autonomy. It's an intelligent pushback against the onward march of technology.' Al-Nakib sees Kuwait itself as a character in her writing — a place whose physical spaces shape who we become. 'Homes, schools, bookstores, cafés — they become the foundation upon which our sense of self is built,' she said. 'As we get older, we return to these spaces in our minds, and some trace of who we were comes back.' Book clubs often spark conversations that wouldn't occur otherwise. Certain stories resonate in deeply personal ways, becoming natural catalysts for deeper ties and meaningful community. For many in Kuwait, that nostalgic trace is no longer enough. They want real spaces, real encounters and real conversations. As the repetition of daily life wears thin, younger generations especially are seeking new ideas, creativity and opportunities to assert independence. Whether they gather to trade children's books, discover new authors or debate social issues, these communities offer more than books — they offer belonging, vitality and authenticity.
Daily Mirror
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
BBC Breakfast star bids farewell as she announces break and fans are fuming
BBC Breakfast regular Samira Ahmed made an important announcement on Saturday morning BBC Breakfast star Samira Ahmed bid farewell as she announced a show break, and fans are fuming. On Saturday's (July 19) edition of the popular morning programme, presenters Charlie Stayt and Naga Munchetty brought viewers up to speed with the latest news from across the UK and globally. Simon King was on hand to provide regular weather updates, while Mike Bushell took charge of the sports segment. During the broadcast, Charlie and Naga passed over to Newswatch host Samira, who delved into viewers' thoughts on recent BBC News coverage. BBC Newswatch is a weekly show offering viewers and listeners the opportunity to respond to BBC News, reports the Express. The programme airs on the UK feed of the BBC News channel on Friday evenings at 11:30pm, and Saturday mornings at 7:45am on BBC One during BBC Breakfast, or can be watched online. In today's segment, Samira engaged in conversation with former Head of BBC Television News, Roger Mosey, about the controversy surrounding a narrator of a BBC documentary on the Gaza conflict. The 57-year-old presenter also touched upon recent BBC bulletins regarding MasterChef hosts Gregg Wallace and John Torode being sacked from the show. At the end of the segment, Samira informed viewers that Newswatch would be taking a break for a few weeks, but reassured them that it would return to screens in September. "We are off the air for a few weeks now, but please do continue to get in touch with us over the summer and we'll be back with more of your thoughts about how the BBC covers news in the first week of September," she said. Viewers of the show didn't hesitate to voice their opinions on X (formerly Twitter) regarding the hiatus, with some expressing dissatisfaction with the content of today's programme. One viewer commented: "Well, that was a waste of 10 minutes," while another said: " last one too." A third remarked: "Not this again," and yet another echoed the sentiment, stating: "Newswatch spending way too long on one little whinge."
Middle East Eye
08-07-2025
- Politics
- Middle East Eye
Iranians struggle to rebuild lives and homes in wake of Israel's war
For a decade, Samira went to work at the same beauty salon in Tehran - a place where she built friendships, forged routines and earned a living. Then an Israeli air strike destroyed it. Now, the building she used to call her second home lies in ruins. "I couldn't believe it until I saw it with my own eyes," she told Middle East Eye. "Our beautiful salon, the place I went to every day for years is completely destroyed." She may have been just an employee and might find work elsewhere, but for Samira, the emotional loss cuts deeper than a job. "I worked there for 10 years. I built connections, made friends with my coworkers - we were like a family," she said. "It's not just about working somewhere else. It's about all the hopes and memories that were destroyed." New MEE newsletter: Jerusalem Dispatch Sign up to get the latest insights and analysis on Israel-Palestine, alongside Turkey Unpacked and other MEE newsletters On 13 June, Israel launched a war on Iran that killed 900 people before a ceasefire was announced by US President Donald Trump, bringing an end to 12 days of fighting. Although Israel said it was targeting Iran's nuclear infrastructure, its strikes caused widespread destruction in Tehran, and most of those killed were civilians. 'Burning in front of our eyes' In the Tehranpars neighbourhood in the east of the capital, Mohammad and his wife escaped mere moments before they lost their home. "We were at home, hearing explosions, drones, and jets overhead. We were scared, and even though it was night-time, we decided to leave the house," Mohammad, 42, said. Just minutes after they left, Israeli bombs struck their home. From the street, they watched as it went up in flames, leaving them facing an uncertain future. Iranian 'freedom' won't come from Israeli bombs or US regime change Read More » "I didn't know what to do - should I be happy we're alive or cry because our beautiful home was burning in front of our eyes?" Like Mohammad and his wife, thousands of people in Iran have been left homeless. The Iranian government has promised to cover the costs of rebuilding the buildings that were destroyed in Israeli strikes. Government spokesperson Fatemeh Mohajerani said on 1 July that Israel's 12-day assault had destroyed 3,500 residential units, including 332 in Tehran. "The government is prioritising shelter for those affected. We are accommodating them in hotels and guesthouses," she said. "The amount of housing aid and construction loans will be announced soon." Iranian minister of roads and urban development, Farzaneh Sadegh, said on 26 June that helping those whose homes were damaged in the war is essential. "Rebuilding the areas affected by the war is our top priority," she said. The Iranian government has also introduced a system that allows people to either call or visit designated centres to register details of their destroyed homes, initiating the process for receiving loans for rebuilding, demolition, or compensation for a new apartment. But it remains unclear how or when these people, who worked so hard to buy a home in an expensive city like Tehran, will ever sleep under their own roof again. 'The explosions kept coming' In western Tehran, a day before the ceasefire went into effect, an Israeli air strike on Evin Prison, which houses prominent political prisoners, killed dozens and caused extensive damage to both the facility and nearby residential buildings." Shiva, who lives with her parents and brother near the prison, described the attack that left their home in ruins. "My mum, brother, and I were at home when we heard terrifying fighter jet sounds right above our house. Then the explosions started. We ran to the bathroom, and moments later, we heard glass shattering," she said. 'We can't stay in the house, and we also can't leave because we're afraid thieves might steal our belongings' - Shiva, Tehran resident "We were so scared we didn't dare leave. But the explosions kept coming. Chandeliers were falling from the ceiling." She and her family remained huddled in the bathroom for half an hour. When they came out, they saw the damage: The bookshelves were broken, the dresser was crushed, shards of glass were all over the floor, and the dining table and chairs were in pieces. She said her father is handling the reconstruction of the house and liaising with government officials. "I don't know the details, but the day after the attack, people from several government agencies and the municipality came to assess the damage," Shiva said. "They promised to process our case quickly. But the problem is, we can't stay in the house, and we also can't leave either because we're afraid thieves might steal our belongings." Anger at Israel Amirhossein, 36, lives in the Sattarkhan neighbourhood in western Tehran. He was picking up his four-year-old son from daycare when Israel attacked their neighbourhood. 'There is real fear': How Israel's attack on Iran enabled an assault on press freedoms Read More » "When I got to our street around noon, I was shocked. One of the houses was completely destroyed, and almost all the houses on the street were badly damaged," he said. "My son saw the damage and my terrified face, and said: 'Daddy, what happened? Did the bad guys attack us? Are my toys broken too?'" Amirhossein, a civil engineer, says he was lucky that his house wasn't completely destroyed, only the facade was damaged and the windows were shattered. "Since I'm a civil engineer, I understand how difficult rebuilding can be right now. Still, we're lucky we don't need to demolish the entire building. But with our income, the cost of repairs is very high. I hope the government pays for the reconstruction soon." Israel has insisted that it targeted only military figures, but for Iranians, the scale of civilian damage tells a different story. Siamak is one of them. The 43-year-old graphic designer lived in Sohrevardi Street in Tehran's downtown. His home was hit by Israeli bombs, and he lost his father. "I was destroyed in just a few hours. My father was my only joy in life," Siamak said. "After my mother died, I lived with him in the house I was born in. But those criminal Israelis destroyed both our home and my father, who was inside and died under the rubble." 'I was naive. I believed Israel when they said they only carry out precision attacks... But now I've lost everything' - Siamak, Tehran resident The war, despite causing a lot of destruction in Iran, seems to have awarded the Islamic Republic a valuable gift. For many in Iran, the war has put things into perspective. Even critics and opponents of the government say they now see through the propaganda of Israeli officials. A growing sense of national unity has emerged as a significant gain for the establishment. "Before this war, I was one of those people who even welcomed the idea of a foreign attack to change the establishment. I was naive," said Siamak. "I believed Israel when they said they only carry out precision attacks and would free us from this dictatorship. But now I've lost everything - my biggest material and emotional asset."
New York Post
04-07-2025
- New York Post
Marine park company reeling after five dolphins die within 8 months
A bankrupt global operator of marine parks and aquariums is seeking court approval to sell hundreds of its animals after a string of dolphin deaths at one of its Florida locations forced a facility closure and sparked multiple investigations. The Dolphin Company, which operates more than 30 parks in eight countries, cited 'limited liquidity' and 'exceedingly high' animal care costs for its dolphins, sea lions, manatees and other marine mammals, according to a filing submitted Wednesday to the US Bankruptcy Court in Delaware. The company also wants to sell some of its real estate as part of a broader restructuring effort under Chapter 11 bankruptcy proceedings initiated in March. Advertisement 5 The company that operates Gulf World Marine Park in Panama City, Fla., is seeking a court's permission to sell hundreds of dolphins, sea lions and manatees. Gulf World Marine Park The deaths occurred at Gulf World Marine Park in Panama City Beach, Fla., where five bottlenose dolphins died between October of last year and May. The fifth fatality prompted the park's closure and intensified scrutiny of the company's animal care practices. The deceased dolphins included Jett, who died in March from blunt force trauma to the head after crashing into the shallow end of a pool during a public show. Advertisement Staff response was reportedly delayed due to murky, algae-filled water. Samira, an eight-year-old dolphin, was found dead last month after weeks of distress and refusing food. Preliminary findings indicated she had ingested foreign material and suffered a pulmonary hemorrhage. Three other dolphins — Gus, Turk and Nate — died last October, with reported causes including euthanasia for a life-threatening condition, bacterial lung disease and systemic infection. Advertisement 5 The Dolphin Company operates dozens of aquatic parks and aquariums in the United States and abroad. The Dolphin Company Following the fatalities, inspections by the USDA and the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission found troubling conditions at the park, including tanks with up to six inches of algae, broken water filtration systems, poor water quality, chronic understaffing and delayed emergency responses due to poor visibility in the water. Florida state prosecutors and federal agencies have since launched criminal investigations. Jay Trumbull, a state senator, called the situation 'disturbing and unacceptable' and urged the removal of all remaining dolphins. Advertisement 5 Five bottlenose dolphins housed at the park died within a span of eight months, including 8-year-old Samira. Instagram/ In its filing, The Dolphin Company stated that 'not only will the sale and transfer of these animals bring value to the debtors' estates, it will also aid in the animals' welfare and safety.' The company disclosed in bankruptcy documents that it housed approximately 2,400 animals as of 2023. These included 295 dolphins, 51 sea lions, 18 manatees and 18 seals. Court records show that many of these animals serve not only as live attractions but also as collateral for over $100 million in outstanding debt. 5 The Dolphin Company disclosed in bankruptcy documents that it housed approximately 2,400 animals as of 2023. PETER WILLOTT/THE ST. AUGUSTINE RECORD via Imagn Content Services, LLC The commercial value of bottlenose dolphins varies depending on training, age and appearance. Dolphins captured in Taiji, Japan, during the 2025 season have reportedly sold for between $30,000 and $128,000 each. Trained dolphins prepared for public performances can command prices up to $150,000. Advertisement California sea lions, also part of the company's holdings, typically sell for between $20,000 and $40,000, while manatees, a species that is protected under US and international law, are not commercially sold but can incur care costs exceeding $40,000 for several months and more than $100,000 for extended rehabilitation. After Gulf World's closure, 11 surviving dolphins were cleared for relocation by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Four rough-toothed dolphins — Doris, Kitana, Dagny and Wren — were transferred to Clearwater Marine Aquarium. The remaining seven dolphins were moved to Marineland in St. Augustine, Fla. 5 The Miami Seaquarium is owned and operated by the Mexico-based Dolphin Company. Getty Images Advertisement The Dolphin Company's financial collapse has also revealed internal turmoil. Former CEO Eduardo Albor, who oversaw the company's growth over several decades, lost control of the business after it defaulted on approximately $100 million in debt. According to court filings, Albor refused to relinquish control of the company's parks in Mexico, where it is headquartered, and denied new management access to financial systems and accounts. US Bankruptcy Judge Laurie Silverstein recently ordered Albor to stop interfering with company operations and provide access to all records. Advertisement She also imposed a $10,000-per-day fine for noncompliance. Advisers overseeing the restructuring have accused Albor of diverting revenue from Mexican parks using credit card readers purchased from Costco. The Post has sought comment from The Dolphin Company and Albor.
Spectator
02-07-2025
- Politics
- Spectator
The Alawite women taken as sex slaves in Syria
Syria's Alawite communities are in the grip of a fear that their women and girls could be kidnapped and held as sabaya, or sex slaves. After the Assad dictatorship fell, amid revenge attacks by militias loyal to the country's new rulers, there were reports of abductions for rape and even of forced marriage. Alawite human rights activists say that some women are still being held prisoner and that kidnappings are still happening. They accuse the Syrian authorities of being unwilling or unable to stop it. The activists say that between 50 and 60 women and girls have been taken. These numbers are small compared with the 1,600 or more civilians killed in a spasm of sectarian violence in March. Sunni militias rounded up Alawite men and boys to be shot in the streets; some – as I wrote at the time – were made to crawl to their deaths howling like dogs. But the idea that jihadis are trying to revive the practice of taking sabaya holds a special terror for Alawites. There are some credible accounts from families and in a few cases from the victims themselves. Samira, who is 23, says that she escaped after being abducted, gang-raped and sold into a forced marriage. That isn't her real name, of course. She's too scared to allow it to be published. We speak over WhatsApp using a translator. She tells me she was snatched off the street while visiting the city of Homs in February. This is her account of what happened: A white panel van daubed with mud for camouflage – 'a military vehicle' – pulled up and six men wearing balaclavas jumped out. Samira ran but they caught her and threw her into the back. She thrashed around as the van moved off, trying to free herself while hands gripped her arms and legs and punches rained down. Then one of the men raised his boot and stamped on her face. 'I didn't move after that.' They blindfolded her and the van drove on for about an hour. When it stopped, they removed the blindfold and she saw a half-finished house on a piece of stony ground. She was pushed inside and up the stairs to a room with low sofas. Some of the men kept their balaclavas on; some didn't. Some wore the jihadis' short galabeya, which stops above the ankles (as Mohammed wore his). Some had black headbands with the first part of the Shahada in white script: 'There is no god but God.' A woman sat on one of the sofas, another victim, in her fifties perhaps, hair greying at the ears. She didn't say a word, just stared into space. Samira's blindfold went back on and her hands were tied. A man took her phone and called her family. She heard him say it would be 500 million Syrian pounds – almost £30,000. 'If you don't pay, we'll send you her hand.' As night fell, however, one of the men said he would take her home. Her heart leapt. He led her away, but just to another room that had a mattress on the floor. He tried to take off her clothes. She struggled, so he called in another man. They forced her to undress. One held her down, the other raped her. 'I fainted. When I woke up, there were seven people in the room. They took turns.' The next morning, Samira found herself alone. She opened the door and started down the concrete stairs. Someone hit her on the back on the head with a rifle-butt and she crumpled. She was dragged back to the room with the mattress. This time, four men raped her. They called her 'unveiled whore' and 'Nusayri pig', a sectarian insult. Days passed with more rapes. In between, she was left blindfolded, hands tied. She remembers two ropes, one green, one brown. She grew very weak. One day, the men ordered Samira and the older woman to go down the stairs and sit on the bare concrete floor. They told the older woman, 'No one paid for you' and shot her in the chest, a single bullet from a Kalashnikov. Somehow, the woman remained sitting upright, her legs slightly splayed, blood gushing from her chest. The men told Samira: 'Say your prayers.' She threw herself to the ground, fingertips touching their boots, begging for her life. 'I was shaking all over.' But they didn't kill her. They told her to lay down and they collected some of the other woman's blood in a bucket. They poured blood on the ground next to Samira's head and they took pictures, apparently to fake her death. That evening, she understood why. An older man arrived, in his sixties, and the others called him 'emir' or prince. She had to shower and dress and he made her turn around, inspecting her. Then he handed the men a suitcase full of cash. She had been sold. The emir gave Samira a black niqab to wear and took her to sit in the back of a Range Rover. Pointing to a pistol on his hip, he said: 'If you make a move on the road, I'll shoot you.' She begged him to say what was going to happen to her. 'I saved your life,' he replied. 'They were going to kill you like that other woman. I paid for you. You belong to me. It will be like I am your husband; you will do everything I say.' She stayed with him in a house somewhere in the northern province of Idlib. She did not want to speak about that period, just saying: 'I wish I had died before I went there.' He seemed to be someone important: officials visited his home; he was never stopped at checkpoints. She managed to convince him that she had accepted her fate and he let her call her family. They had already held a funeral for her after seeing the photos posted on social media. After that Samira was taken to Lebanon, smuggled across the border. The emir kept her in another house watched over by an older woman and a young man who seemed to be his relatives. He often travelled on business, threatening to behead her whole family in Syria if she tried to escape. Though she was terrified, she eventually screwed up the courage to steal a key and sneak out of the house while he was away. The emir called Samira's parents to say he would kill them unless she came back to him. She remains in hiding. As she told me, she is 'thrilled' with her new freedom but 'crippled' with fear. I was introduced to Samira by an activist named Inana Barakat. She is outside Syria but talking to the families affected, often after seeing anguished appeals for help posted on Facebook or X. She has counted 56 abductions of women and girls. Twenty-five were returned to their families, most after being raped, she says. The rest are still missing. She tells me that ten of the victims are under 18, the youngest 15, the oldest 55. She talks of sabaya, female captives held as sex slaves according to the jihadi interpretation of sharia. Families are keeping their daughters home from school, she tells me. 'They are living in a state of fear.' There are claims of other cases. A 23-year-old woman, travelling with her 11-month-old son, disappeared while waiting on the street for a taxi. Nothing has been heard from her since. A 29-year-old housewife, married with children, disappeared after going to a hospital appointment. Ten days later, her family got an audio message from her. She sounded strange. 'I'm out of the country and married. Don't ask about me and don't worry about me.' The historic practice of taking female slaves was reintroduced by Isis during the brief rule of the 'Caliphate' in Syria a decade ago. Thousands of women and girls from the Yazidi minority were held and openly traded in slave markets. I interviewed two sisters in their teens who had been kidnapped by their father's gardener, who enjoyed their humiliation. A woman in her forties told me she had been bought by a man too poor to own a car and who had wanted a servant. He and his wife turned her out when she got cancer. There were many such stories. The group that now rules Syria, Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham, or HTS, never took slaves. But there are almost certainly former Isis loyalists in its ranks. Occasionally a fighter in one of the militias backing the government is spotted still wearing an Isis patch. It may also be that common criminals are opportunistically taking advantage of chaos in Syria. It was a question during the Syrian uprising – as kidnapping and looting spread – whether criminals joined some of the armed groups, or if some of the armed groups turned to crime. It was probably a bit of both. Human-rights activists say the police often don't want to investigate when an Alawite woman or girl disappears, or they try to blame the immediate family. In some cases, girls have posted videos saying they ran away to get married. The authorities point to these videos as evidence that no crime has been committed; the activists say the girls are being coerced. The activists say that all kinds of violence are continuing against the Alawites. One posted a video of a restaurant being attacked by bearded gunmen for selling alcohol. They fear the future in Syria is Islamist and authoritarian. In Afghanistan, the Taliban Mark 2 returned to power promising a new, more liberal version of rule by sharia. Now they are as hardline as ever. In Syria, the international community is giving President al-Sharaa's new government the benefit of the doubt for the time being. He was put into power by a wide coalition of armed groups. His government may be too weak to protect the Alawites; some of his men may not want to. Can't or won't? For the families whose wives or daughters were taken, it makes little difference which.
