Latest news with #SceneNowSaudi
CairoScene
2 days ago
- Sport
- CairoScene
How Othman Al Mulla Hit a Drive to Become the First Saudi Pro Golfer
How Othman Al Mulla Hit a Drive to Become the First Saudi Pro Golfer From a hesitant start in Dhahran to representing his country on the international stage, Othman Al Mulla's journey is shaping the future of Saudi golf from the ground up. Before he became Saudi Arabia's first professional golfer, Othman Al Mulla nearly didn't try the sport at all. 'I was quite hesitant in the beginning,' he said. 'But it was probably one of the most transformational days of my life.' The invitation came from a friend in Dhahran, where Al Mulla grew up inside the Aramco residential community; a place better known for its safety and order than for producing professional athletes. Golf, however, was an unlikely exception. The course inside the compound wasn't a world-class facility, but it existed, and that alone made it rare in Saudi Arabia at the time. 'It was quite unique in the Kingdom,' Al Mulla told SceneNowSaudi. 'Although my introduction and beginning years were quite tough, having to travel for high-level competition and coaching, I think I was really privileged.' That combination - a modest entry point and a need to look outward - would shape much of Al Mulla's early career. By 2007, he found himself teeing off next to Tiger Woods and Ernie Els at the Dubai Desert Classic. 'I was ecstatic and super blessed,' he said. 'But I was also too young to fully understand the significance of what that moment meant, not just for me, but for what I could represent.' In hindsight, it was the beginning of something larger. He hadn't yet gone pro, but Saudi Arabia had already been seen, if only briefly, on golf's international map. Then came the pause in the sand pit. Without a system to guide him through the demands of a career in golf, Al Mulla stepped away from the sport altogether. He went back to school and worked in finance. 'I never had a roadmap,' he said. 'And I made a lot of mistakes, some of which were very costly. The break taught me I needed to be more organised, and not be shy about reaching out to people who had already done the things I wanted to do.' By the time he started his career in 2019, the title of 'pro golfer' came with something heavier than celebration; it came with a national responsibility. 'It was an incredible honour,' he said. 'And I carry it with me every day.' It didn't take long for the weight of that title to show itself. In his first event as a professional, at the debut of the Saudi International, Al Mulla didn't play particularly well. But he remembers something else: a few families walking the course with their children, quietly following his round. 'Since then, the gravity of the role has been apparent,' he said. 'It's motivated me ever since.' That kind of motivation doesn't always show up on a leaderboard. It exists in the quieter spaces, in the conversations, the visibility, and the fact that young Saudi players now enter the sport with opportunities that didn't exist even a decade ago. 'It's actually super satisfying to see the new landscape,' he said. 'I had to take a lot of risks just to keep the dream alive. So to watch younger players come up through a system, with real backing, is incredible.' Al Mulla doesn't see this new era as separate from his own. The infrastructure may have arrived late, but he believes legacy isn't measured only in results. It's measured in continuity. 'We're only at the beginning,' he said. 'But I also believe that in the group of five Saudi professionals, we will have some great wins that will help establish a legacy for the next generation of golfers to follow.' As for the pressure of carrying that vision forward, Al Mulla does not flinch. 'When you've put yourself in a place to achieve great things and represent your country internationally, that is a privilege,' he said. 'I've learned to appreciate the work and the journey more than the outcome.' What started as a hesitant visit to a neighbourhood golf course now exists as a kind of blueprint, not just for how to begin, but how to build where nothing existed before.
CairoScene
5 days ago
- CairoScene
Saudi's First Female Skydiver Took One Jump & Never Looked Back
Some days, freedom is five uninterrupted minutes away from the glaring blue light of a screen. Other days, it's finishing a shift and walking home with nothing but the sound of your own feet. Sometimes it's that rare moment between obligations when the world stops tugging at your sleeve, and you remember what it feels like to just exist - unobserved, unmeasured, unbothered. The split second before you do something reckless just because it's yours to do. Now imagine that that feeling in its highest possible form. Not metaphorically. Literally. Between land and sky, in freefall, 15,000 feet in the air. That's where you'll find Razan Al Ajmi, the founder of the Saudi Skydive Agency, a judge for the Saudi Federation for Hiking and Climbing, a licensed skydiving instructor, and Saudi Arabia's first female skydiver. But before all that, she was a girl staring at a photo on Instagram thinking, "How do I do this?" Right now, Al Ajmi is building a new generation of Saudi women flyers. And yes, she's doing it at the age of 27. But for now, let's rewind to when she first took flight. Before Al Ajmi ever considered taking off to the skies, she was forced to rest at home after a climbing accident sidelined her for months. Unable to relax, she was doomscrolling on social media until she came across a photo. 'I didn't plan to be a skydiver,' Al Ajmi tells SceneNowSaudi. 'One day I saw a picture of someone skydiving in Saudi and I messaged the photographer asking, 'What is this? Can I try?'' That text led to a link, which led to a camp hosted by the Ministry of Sports, where Al Ajmi made her first jump. It was visceral. Wind tearing at her cheeks. Organs floating. The ground rushing up. On landing, dirt crunching under her boots, she rushed to her instructor with a certainty: 'I want to continue.' 'From the first jump, I felt freedom,' Al Ajmi says. 'Not in the parachute. Not in the plane. Just my own body, flying. Then I continued practicing until I found that skydiving is not just a sport. It's a life for me' Before skydiving, Al Ajmi tried everything - gym, hiking, climbing - but none of it gave her what she was chasing. It gave her something that lit up the next part of her life. A sense of self, a sense of purpose, a kind of clarity most people don't stumble into until much later, if ever. The confidence it sparked didn't fade. Instead, it transformed into a mission. 'I want to show people how amazing this sport is. Especially women. We grow up with all these fears - we're taught not to take the first step. But skydiving taught me how to decide. How to act strong. It changed my personality, my way of thinking. And I want other women to feel that.' Al Ajmi started skydiving in 2021, in the chaotic afterglow of COVID lockdowns. 'That time changed a lot of people,' she says. 'When you jump, you feel freedom. But when you can't practice it, you really feel like you lost it.' Looking to become a licensed skydiver, Al Ajmi had to travel to train due to the lack of facilities in Saudi Arabia at the time. But, travelling needed funding, so she leaned in and worked to fund her training. Comfortable family? Yes. Handouts? Never. 'My choices? My responsibility. I will not make excuses for not pursuing my dream.' Al Ajmi worked wherever she could - one of her first jobs was at a furniture store. It wasn't just about funding her training. It was about resisting the quiet cultural pressure women often face when pursuing something so physically and publicly bold. The comments came often: 'Why work? Just stay home.' But Al Ajmi had a goal. She saved what she earned, paid her own way, and kept showing up, training across the GCC, Spain, France, and Russia. In just two years, she completed nearly 500 jumps. Along the way, Al Ajmi competed in several skydiving competitions, but the most recent, in Bahrain, felt especially charged. The room was heavy with male scepticism. She jumped. She landed. She won first place. And the silence that followed? That said everything. It was never just about the jump. It was about making it possible for others to jump too. "I was working and training at the same time. But I don't want other people to face the same challenges," Al Ajmi says. "That's why I became an instructor. So I can be the source I never had.' Al Ajmi now trains skydivers across Saudi Arabia. She says the passion is palpable - especially among girls and kids. 'They want to fly. They want to prove they can do something hard. I see it in their eyes. And it makes me feel like, okay, they need me. I need to do my best for them.' Skydiving, she insists, isn't about being physically strong. It's mental. 'A small movement in the air changes everything. Just moving your fingers slightly left or right, you feel it. Before I jump, I stretch, I breathe, I plan. In the sky, there's no music, no phones, no noise. Just focus.' Al Ajmi sends her 'I'm jumping today' texts early. Then it's coffee, parachute check, warm-up. 'I avoid anything that could bother me. I don't need to know about problems before I fly. When I land, then I go back to life. But during the jump - it's just sky.' One of Al Ajmi's proudest moments came in 2023, when she jumped in carrying a massive Saudi flag weighing nearly 20 kilos. 'It wasn't easy. But I said, no, I will do it. And I did. Two weeks later, I was still saying it to myself: 'I did it.'' Al Ajmi is training future instructors now. And dreaming of blooming Saudi drop zones, international events on home turf, and a national women's team that lives beyond her. 'It's not just about us,' she says. 'It's about the concept. About showing the world that Saudi women can fly.' When asked what advice she'd give to girls like her - girls with dreams that scare their families, their teachers, their inner critic- Al Ajmi doesn't hesitate. 'Always try before making any decision. And always do more than you think.'
CairoScene
22-06-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
Chinese Animated Blockbuster 'Ne Zha 2' to Screen in Saudi Cinemas
After breaking USD 2 billion globally, Chinese animation blockbuster 'Ne Zha 2' is landing in Saudi cinemas starting June 23rd — distributed by CineWaves Films in Chinese, English, and Arabic. Animated blockbuster 'Ne Zha 2' is hitting Saudi cinemas on June 23rd, bringing one of China's biggest box office phenomena to the region. The film smashed records earlier this year, crossing USD 2 billion globally to become the highest-grossing Chinese animation of all time - and the first non-Hollywood film to reach that milestone. Directed by Yu Yang, 'Ne Zha 2' continues the story of the rebellious demon child from Chinese mythology, this time following him on a quest to save a lightning-struck friend by seeking out a powerful elixir. The film is packed with martial arts action, humour, and mythological world-building - just make sure to control the kids when they do pretend-kung fu out of the theatres. The film will be released across the Middle East and North Africa in Mandarin Chinese, English, and Arabic. The Arabic dub was overseen by Saudi animator Malik Nejer, best known for his work on 'Masameer County'. 'This film reflects our commitment to meaningful cultural exchange,' Faisal Baltyuor, chairman of CineWaves Films, tells SceneNowSaudi. 'After bringing Saudi films to China through events like Saudi Film Nights, we're proud to now introduce one of China's most successful films to Arab audiences. 'Ne Zha 2' is a visually rich adventure that we believe will resonate across the region.' The film is being brought to cinemas by CineWaves Films, the Saudi distributor that opened the first Arab cultural office in China and holds the largest library of Saudi films.
CairoScene
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- CairoScene
WATCH: Saudi's First Pro Boxer Knows How to Take a Jab
'I always knew I'd be more than a boxer,' Ziyad Elmaayouf tells SceneNowSaudi. Ziyad Almaayouf is breaking down opponents and barriers. The first international Saudi professional boxer, nicknamed Zizo, fights with purpose, persistence, and a jab that sends shockwaves from Jeddah to the O2 Arena. 'I always knew I'd be more than a boxer,' he says. And he is. Ziyad isn't here to just win titles. From getting thrashed in LA sparring rings to making history in Riyadh, Ziyad's journey is soaked in blood, sweat, and self-belief. He left family, comfort, and familiarity behind, trading them for 5 a.m. tears and punches that almost broke him. But he kept showing up. That was the secret. That's what caught the attention of Hall of Fame legend Buddy McGirt, who trained him not for talent, but for two things: 'Heart, and that jab.' And oh, that jab. Triple-shot, precise, relentless. It's become his signature, his passport to rings around the world. As the saying goes, 'A good right hand takes you around the corner. A good jab takes you around the world.' Ziyad's jab has taken him from a knockout debut in Jeddah to roaring crowds in Diriyah to toppling drug-fueled opponents in Los Angeles. He's gone toe-to-toe with decorated champions, stared defeat in the face, hit the canvas, and got up again. Every time. He's not just the first Saudi pro boxer. He's a walking comeback story, a cultural shift in motion, and living proof that when the world expects you to stay down, you rise. Ziyad Al Maayouf doesn't just know how to take a jab. He knows how to turn it into history.
CairoScene
04-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- CairoScene
How Arwa Al Neami Paved the Way for Saudi Women in Contemporary Art
What role can art play in a country undergoing rapid transformation? For Saudi artist Arwa Al Neami, it has long been a way to spark dialogue about social change. Through installations, films, and photography, the Abha-hailing 40-year old artist often uses humour and at times irony to explore the restrictions placed on women and the complex dynamics of life in a changing Saudi Arabia. Al Neami's career began long before Saudi Arabia's art scene gained the visibility and acceptance it enjoys today. When she entered the field in the early 2000s, art was not widely embraced in the country, and spaces for contemporary artistic expression were extremely limited. Despite these barriers, Al Neami's work pushed against social boundaries, laying the groundwork for the more open discourse now emerging within the Saudi art community. Born in a military compound at King Khalid Military Airbase, Al Neami grew up in a unique environment that shaped her worldview. 'It was a military city, quite different from the outside world. My schoolmates and neighbours were from various nationalities. I was a social girl with many Egyptian and Sudanese friends,' Al Neami tells SceneNowSaudi. Her childhood, although spent in the disciplined setting of a military compound, was filled with art and creativity from a young age. "Art has been part of my life since I was four. I started drawing at that age. My artistic spirit had nothing to do with tools or mediums—it was always there.' However, her adolescent years brought about a stark cultural shift when her family relocated to Abha. 'It was a complete culture shock,' Al Neami recalls. The freedoms she once enjoyed were suddenly restricted. She started wearing an abaya and gloves, and her school offered no art classes. "Everything was haram," she says. Even her Minnie Mouse backpack had its head removed after being deemed inappropriate. But these changes didn't stifle her creativity. Instead, they fueled a deeper sense of questioning and rebellion within her—a spirit that would later be channelled into her artistic work. After graduating high school, Arwa Al Neami faced a challenge—there were no formal art programs available for her to pursue. Undeterred, she took matters into her own hands. She would visit stationery stores, gather canvases and paper, and lay them out on the floor over a white sheet, creating without a structured starting point or formal techniques. 'I would just take out my pencils and colours and start creating,' Al Neami tells SceneNowSaudi. With no art major to choose from, she instead studied IT at King Khalid University, where she discovered Photoshop. This tool - new at the time - opened doors for her creativity. Hearing about an art competition at Al Muftaha Village, she instinctively created a large multimedia piece, letting the work flow naturally. 'I didn't know the medium or how I started or finished; it just happened,' she says. Her piece won a distinguished prize, one that wasn't awarded every year, and that was the moment she truly identified as an artist. 'I felt like a billionaire,' Al Neami recalls, after winning SAR 5,000. The first thing she did was purchase her own computer and Photoshop software, quickly mastering the program to the point where even her professors asked for her techniques. Al Muftaha Village was predominantly a male-dominated space, and she could only visit her artwork on family days, which limited her connection with the community. However, her artistic journey continued in Jeddah, where she began working more with canvas. Her first contemporary project, titled 'Ya Taybah', involved collecting dolls from Makkah. 'There was a belief that dolls were haram – you couldn't play with them at night or sleep next to them,' Al Neami explains. But one doll, which played the spiritual song 'Ya Taybah', sparked something within her. She recalls witnessing a father, initially reluctant to buy the doll for his daughter, change his mind when he heard the song. "That moment changed his perspective on the doll and, by extension, on art." The project was a video, featuring three of these dolls, all playing 'Ya Taybah' at varying speeds. This contrast between the dolls and the spiritual songs enticed Al Neami; a contradicting duality, and in essence, commentary on a culture that is neither here nor there. Al Neami's exploration of contradictions and complex societal norms comes through strongly in 'Red Lipstick', a nine-minute video installation that examines her relationship with the niqab. Initially, she viewed the niqab as something that sharpened her ability to recognise people by their eyes. Wearing it heightened her observational skills and sense of connection, as everyone dressed similarly in abayas. However, after she stopped wearing the niqab, she noticed an unexpected change: men seemed more intrigued by her when she was veiled, drawing attention to how societal rules create allure around what is deemed "forbidden." In 'Red Lipstick', Al Neami used a Christian Lebanese friend as the model, someone who had never worn the niqab before. The video shows the niqab flying around, alternating between revealing either the model's eyes or her lips, which are adorned with striking red lipstick. This visual contrast encapsulates the tension between modesty and attention, between what is hidden and what is seen. The project, exhibited underground in Jeddah, explores not only the niqab's layered meanings but also how societal perceptions are shaped by what remains covered. "It was an experience for her as well," Al Neami tells SceneNowSaudi, reflecting on how the project challenged both herself and her model to think about cultural symbols and their shifting significance. 'Red Lipstick' became one of her most pivotal works, capturing the contradictions she would continue to explore in future projects. The niqab remains a pivotal element in Al Neami's artistic journey, and her series 'Never Never Land' offers a striking example of how she draws from personal experiences to explore the complexities of societal norms. Showcased at the City Gallery Wellington in New Zealand in 2018, 'Never Never Land' depicts fully veiled Saudi women playing bumper cars at a carnival. While the scene appears playful, the signs surrounding them call for modesty and restraint, even in moments of leisure. Through this subtle satire, Al Neami comments on the tension between personal freedom and societal rules, especially in a country where direct criticism of authority is often suppressed. 'Never Never Land' also reflects the changing dynamics within Al Neami's home region of Asir, where, historically, women had greater freedom and were seen as equals to men. She tells SceneNowSaudi how the region's traditions have evolved: 'Women in Asir didn't cover themselves in the past, but over time, that changed.' Her visits to local amusement parks in 2010 revealed a stark contrast between the present and the past. At first, boys and girls rode the same rides together, but gradually, segregation became the norm, and extra sheets and coverings were put up to shield women from view while they played. By 2017, the restrictions had grown even more severe, with black curtains placed around the bumper cars, making it impossible for anyone outside to see the women having fun. Al Neami's work captures this societal shift, where women are sometimes treated as if their very presence could cause disruption or chaos, even in spaces meant for joy and play. Through 'Never Never Land', she questions these evolving norms with quiet but powerful critique. Her installations and films don't just observe these changes—they participate in them. In 'Art is Not a Race', exhibited at Doha's Fire Station in Qatar in 2022 and 2023, a child model collapses on a long walking mat with the phrase 'Art is not a race' inscribed in Arabic. The installation critiques the pressures and competitive nature of the contemporary art scene, questioning whether the pursuit of recognition is undermining artistic integrity. It's a reminder that both life and art require patience and thought, and perhaps…waiting things out even when 'better days' seem impossible. One of Al Neami's most defining projects took place in 2014 within the Kingdom itself. 'A Piece of Paradise' saw her become the first woman ever granted permission to photograph the Prophet's Mosque in Madinah, capturing the intricate centuries-old calligraphy and the grandeur of the mosque's 177 domes. But this series is more than an architectural study; it reflects her contemplation on faith, beauty, and the desire to preserve cultural heritage across generations. For Al Neami, the project embodied both the physical and the spiritual aspects of her work, preserving not only the mosque's magnificent design but also the deep reverence it inspires in those who visit. Al Neami recalls the moment that inspired the project. 'When I entered the Haram for the first time, I looked up and saw the domes, each one so beautiful and unique. I asked, 'What is this? Who made them?' but there was no information.' Determined to document the mosque's overlooked architectural details, she took her phone and began photographing the domes, eventually presenting her idea to Prince Faisal. Her proposal was bold—to photograph each of the 177 domes of the Prophet's Mosque, a feat no one had attempted before. Despite challenges in securing permits and initial skepticism, Al Neami persisted. Officers expressed surprise at the sight of a camera inside the mosque, as such access had been unheard of. But her determination paid off, and the result was not just a remarkable visual archive but a historic milestone. 'A Piece of Paradise' disrupted traditional norms around access, opening doors not only for Al Neami but for other women in Saudi Arabia, making it a pivotal moment in both her career and the cultural landscape of the Kingdom. Al Neami's early success came despite the conservative social climate at the time, where being a Saudi woman pursuing contemporary art was met with skepticism, if not outright resistance. Her art isn't about offering easy answers—it's about sparking thought and reflection. As Saudi Arabia continues to undergo significant change, her work pushes viewers to question, laugh, and engage with the world around them. Through her social commentary, she has become an essential voice in Saudi contemporary art, well before the country began to embrace the arts as it does today. As Saudi Arabia continues to undergo significant cultural shifts, Al Neami is optimistic about the future of art in the Kingdom. "I'm so happy with where art is now in Saudi Arabia. It's a new chapter, and there is so much support. Art is the future," she says. Her upcoming projects will explore the Kingdom's relationship with the land, sea, and sky, focusing on the spiritual and human evolution happening within the country. "We are witnessing remarkable progress, and my current work is more philosophical and meditative," she explains. Her work continues to reflect the questions she's been asking since her youth—questions that are finally being answered as Saudi Arabia's artistic community grows and evolves.
