Tuesday, December 26, 2006

أمي


،أمي
أعلم أن أسود أيامك الآن تعيشين
وأعلم بان الحزن قد أصبح رفيقك الأمين
،أمي
أعلم بأنك في كل هنيهة تتعذبين
و بنار الشوق إليّ في كل لحظة ُتصلين
،أمي
أرجوك لا تحزني فأبي وأخوتي موجودين
فهم أحباءك الأحياء الذين يحبونك و تحبين
أنظري إلى عمـر وقـدر فمعهم أنا دائماً ستجدين
وإن اشتقت لرؤيتي، حدقي بوجوههم فوجهي سترين
وأمطريهم بالقبلات التي كنت دوماً تمطرين
،أمي
أصدقائي كلهم أبناءك الذين لم تنجبين
امنحيهم عطفك وحنانك كما كنت إياي تمنحين
،أمي
احضنيهم فستشعرين بحبي لكِ عندما تحضنين
وأعطيهم من الدفء الذي كنت به إياي تعطين
واهتمي بهم وأََََعينيهم فهم بحاجة إليك أكثر مما تتصورين
،أمي
أنا أعلم بأنك ستحافظين عليهم كما عليّ تحافظين
ورؤية أحبائي هي جرعة من الدواء التي بها ستتداوين
،أمي
علمت بما حدث بالأمس ومع من كنت تسيرين
ففرحت بأنك وأخوتي ووالدي مع أصدقائي مجتمعين
صليتم من أجلي ولله عزوجل كنتم خاشعين
ونظرتم الى الشمس وهي تغيب و أنتم مبتسمين
وصلنى السلام الذي أرسلتموه لي و انتم اليها محدقين
أم سمر
©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

Saturday, December 23, 2006

عادت الطيور


عادت الطيور المسافرة إلى عشها
و عاد لي طائران من طيوري معها

عادت الطيور تنشد الدفء عند أمها
و كلها اشتياق لتتمتع بحبها و حنانها

ولكن طائر من طيوري الثلاثة سافر و لم يعد
ترك العش مسرعا وحلق بالسماء و ابتعد

حفظ الله لي الطائرين من كل مكروه و خطر
وأشكر الرحمن الذي أعادهم لي سالمين من السفر

وأصدقاؤها أتوا لزيارتي فور وصولهم من كثرة ما أحبوها
لفتة وفاء لي و للعزيزة الغالية التي لن ينسوها

أتوا ليؤكدون لي بأنهم أبنائي وأنها الأخت التي عز عليهم فقدانها
أتوا ليؤكدون لي بأنهم يشاركوني الحزن و الألم على فراقها

ورغم أنني الأم التي تراها بوجوه أولادها عمرو قدر
و الأم التي تراها بأصدقائها الذين أحبتهم منذ الصغر

ستبقى فرحتي غير كاملة بغياب الحبيبة سمر
فمكانها الخالي يعذبني لأنها لم تعد مع قدر و عمر

ورؤية أترابها لن تطفأ ظمأى للغالية و لن ترويني
ولكنها رشفة من الحب التي أرادت سمر بغيابها ان تسقيني

فأنا الأم التي قلبها انفطر على فراق طائرها الصغير
الذي كان يحلم أن بأن يحلق عاليا و لكن قسا عليه المصير

وسأبقى الأم التي تطالع السماء باحثة عن طيف سمر
و الأم التي تسأل عنها الشروق و الغروب و الشمس و القمر

كما انني الأم التي تشكر الله على الصبر الذي وهبه لها الكريم
و الأم التي تشكر الله على القوة التي أعطاها إياها الحكيم


أم سمر
©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

In Memoriam

I found this on a blog and thought I'd share it with everyone.
http://fazandteow.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_fazandteow_archive.html

Sunday, September 17

In Memoriam

Dedicated to the memory of Samar Al Ansari (1988-2006). I never knew you, but your brother is a good man who spoke only the best of you. You blessed many in your life with your presence, and with your passing you reminded me of the frailty of life, and what worth you added to your brief stay here through your good works.

I pray for the grief of your loved ones to be alleviated, and that you have found your peace.
posted by tanya @ 11:35 AM

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Reem Kerriou wrote about SAMAR

Reem Kerriou wrote a short
story about SAMAR
"Miss Samar The Little Doctor"
when she was in 9th grade
and SAMAR in lst grade
at IKNS as one of the English
assignments.

This is what Reem wrote
about her then and put it
on the cover of her story.
(Click on picture)

Um SAMAR

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

The Happy 13

شيماء الجهرمي كتبت



يا ليت الموت يضرب ضربته ويمضي
لكنه يسطو ويخلف الحسرات والعبر
فيخطف أغلى غوالينا
ويسرف منا النفيس من الدرر
حاجبا ً عنا أحلى الوجوه
ضاحكاً يهزأ من ضعف البشر
ولكن هبة الله للإنسان
أن نقدر على صد القدر
سنصرع الموت ونمضي
مع روح التي جسمها إندثر
فطيف خيالها سيبقى لنا دوماً
في القلب في أبها الصور
فلا يسلب الدهر منا طيف سمـر
التي في قلبنا أسمها إحتفر



شيماء الجهرمي

Monday, December 18, 2006

لا تفارقيني


هل يعقل أنك و لا لهنيهة تفارقيني؟

حتى على وسادة النوم تسرعي و تسبقيني

و إن ذهبت إلى أي مكان أراك هناك تنتظريني

هل يعقل أنني أشعر بأنك دوما تسمعيني؟

وبصوتك العذب في كل لحظة تلازميني

و أشم عطرك الذي يصطحبني فتنعشيني

و أراك على مائدة الطعام على كرسيك الخالي تجلسين

و عندما أركب سيارتي، المقعد الذي بجانبي تحتلين

و بِتِ بالنسبة لي كالدم الذي يجري بشراييني

سبحان الخالق! عدت كالجنين في أحشائي تنامين

لا تفارقي عقلي و جسدي، لا تفارقيني

وكأنك عند الشروق و الغروب دائما تنتظريني

"و تقولين" أمي أنا هنا، مدي البصر ستريني

سبحان الله، في كل شيء جعلني أ جدك لكي لا تفارقيني


أم سمر
©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

Sunday, December 17, 2006

My Personal Time Machine

If I was tragically taken away from my home, I would like to take all my possessions with me, but there is a limit to only three. It was a hard decision to think of the three possessions I cherish the most, but I know I made the right decision. A picture of my family and friends, my journal, and a Cartier pen my mother got me help me relive my past.

The most important item that I could possibly take with me is a picture of my family and friends. Most importantly, I want to remember the people I love most in the world. To glance at each of them and remember how they all touched me in their own special way is such an amazing thing, and to remember each of them with their own special qualities. For instance, when glancing at my mother, memories of her strong personality will go through me. Also, when looking at Latifa Al-Maraj, my best friend, I will remember how good of a friend she was. Another reason to take this picture is to remember all the glorious and truly unique times I spent with all of my friends and family members. “Hanging out” with Latifa and the rest of my friends was so much fun, we used to watch movies, talk, go out, and etc. Spending time with my family always filled me with joy. I will always cherish those long talks I would have with my sister without a single worry in my head and our family vacations, which were so fun. The most person who would help me with my problems was Laila, she was always my resort, because she truly gave good advice and wasn’t at all biased. All my family and friends helped me through thick and thin and that is the final reason why this picture is one of the three items. It is such a privilege to look at a picture and remember all that; to relive all those precious memories.

Coming along with me also is my trustworthy journal. You don’t know how nice it is to spill your guts on paper and not hear someone talking back to you, criticizing you, or giving you bad advice. Living without my cherished journal is an impossibility. I want to be able to record all my thoughts and feelings onto those blank pages. Even if I was in the most exciting place on God’s green earth, no doubt about it, I would feel lonely. So what better way than to let out all my emotions as creatively as possible. Being away from my loved ones would make me feel so bad. Instead of bottling up my feelings, I will write everything down. On my journey, I will see strange or common things and jot them all down in my journal. And if I ever return to my friends and family, I could read to them in detail what I saw. In that unknown place, feelings of boredom and loneliness will bestow upon me. Reading over my past entries and reflecting on my past life will help me remember the good old times, and it will relieve my boredom. Reading about the most significant memories of my teenage life will make me either laugh or cry. Who knows, maybe my journal would be published later on and would be called “Samar’s Great Adventure”?

What will be used to write with in my journal you ask? The answer is simple. A Cartier pen my mother gave me when I passed the seventh grade with an A average. It is a beautiful gold plated pen which is one of my most cherished belongings. It is one of my three possessions for an obvious reason… TO WRITE WITH! The ink will run out for sure, but I will write lightly but still clearly so that the ink doesn’t run out quickly. Even if the ink does run out, at least I would have had time to write. The pen could be used as a survival technique; its sharp tip could be used to cut through objects. The last reason for bringing this pen along is to remember the day my mother gave it to me. I went upstairs to my room the second night of the summer vacation, and saw a small wrapped gift on my bed. I opened it up and found a beautiful Cartier pen, and a card next to it saying: “I’m so proud of you, hope you have another great school year.” An unforgettable feeling came over me as I read that, and writing with that pen always brings back that glorious feeling.

The mere thought of being taken away from my home is frightening. I would never know how to live without my friends and family members. These three items help me relive my past. Loneliness will take over me wherever life takes me without my family and friends, but knowing I have these three items really helps ease the pain, and helps me remember the wonderful life I used to have.



Done By: Samar Al-Ansari

Grade 9.2

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Home by SAMAR Al Ansari

Home is not a place but a feeling. Home is where I feel myself, and where I do not fake smiles or laughs. Home is where I say and do what pleases me without the fear of anyone judging me. Home is where I can start a discussion without worrying about what others may think of what I do or say. Home is when I tell what I feel and what I think of without excluding anything and feeling comfortable. Home is sitting in my room listening to music and writing in my journal. I write what's on my mind, without a judgmental voice whispering in my ear. At home, I reveal myself entirely without hiding behind barriers. At home, I am as transparent as a glass of water. To get to know me, and I mean real me, you must provide a home for me first.



Samar Al Ansari 9.2

Saturday, December 09, 2006

كوني فخورة يا سمر

كوني فخورة يا حبيبة قلبي سمــر
بأصدقائك وأحبائك وأهلك والحب الذي علينا انهمر

كوني فخورة يا ابنتي سمر بما قام به أخاك عمـر
آبى أن يسافر دون أن ينشأً لك موقعًا يا سمـر

ليزوره الأحباء فتكوني حية بيننا بكتابة الخواطر والصور
وليعرف العالم عن الشابة التي بكت عليها السماء فهطل المطر

كوني فخورة يا قلبي سمـر بالصبر الذي تحلت به قــدر
كانت كالشجرة شامخة رغم حزنها ولو كان أحد غيرها لكفر

كانت تتألم بصمت وحاولت أن تخفى البحر من الِعَبر
فأخويك أبدوا شجاعة لا مثيل لها رغم فجيعتهم والقهر

كوني فخورة يا عيوني سمـر بأبيك المؤمن بالقضاء والقدر
بكاك حتى لم تبقى دموع إلا وانهمرت على فراقك غير المنتظر

ولكن بإيمانه ومحبة الأصدقاء والأقرباء، الصبر انتصر
وعاد إلى عمله بعيش ذكراك يوميا ويتغنى بما قالت و فعلت سمـر

كوني فخورة بنفسك يا سمر بالحب الذي زرعته وحصدت الثمر
والابتسامة والضحكة التي تركتها على شفاه كل أنثى وذكر

كوني فخورة يا الحبيبة سمـر، فقد اجمع الملأ بأنك من خيرة البشر
وان الله اختارك لأنك فريدة بشتى المقاييس و المعايير و الصور

كوني فخورة يا ابنتي سمـر فلوداعك الكثير من العالم حضر
ليشاركونا مصيبتنا رغم أنه لم يكن بعد قد نشر الخبر

كوني فخورة يا ابنتي سمـر فالحضور المتميز كان لأنك سمر
و قد حصلت على دعاء كل هؤلاء لأنك حبيبة الجميع سمر

جمعت الأهل و الأصدقاء من بقاع الأرض بمنزلنا وتحملوا عناء السفر
فأنت لست ابنتي وحدي بل ابنتهم الغالية التي أحبوها سمـر

بكاك أصدقاؤك ومعلميك ومعارفك وأقرباؤك و فراقك ترك أثر
فراقك أدمى قلوبهم واحتاروا ماذا يقولون عنك يا سمـر

كوني فخورة يا سمـر بأصدقائك الذين فعلوا الكثير لأنك سمـر
وتواصلوا معي و أصبحت ملجأ لهم لأنني أمك، أم سمـر

كنت دوماً فخورة بك يا حبيبتي وبأحبائي عمــر و قــدر
واليوم ازددت فخراً و اعتزازا لكوني أم سمـر

سمر الغائبة الحاضرة التي فجرت ملكة الشعر عندي كينبوع أو بحر
سمر التي حتى برحيلها أعطت كعادتها، يا أغلى الغاليات يا ابنتي سمر

رحيلك أحزن القريب والبعيد والشعراء وبكاك المطر
رحيلك أحدث دوياً لا مثيل له يا ابنتي العزيزة سمـر

الموت حق يا ابنتي لاعتراض على خالق الشمس والقمر
الموت حق يا ابنتي يا نجمة من أحفاد ابن خلدون الأغر


أم سمــر

©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Yasmine Fahim sent

YVES DUTEIL Ton Absence Lyrics

Comme une bouffé de chagrin
Ton visage ne me dit plus rien
Je t'apelle et tu ne viens pas
Ton absence est entré chez moi

Cest un grand vide au fond de moi
Tout ce bonheur qui n'est plus la
Si tu s'avais quand il est tard
Comme je m'ennui de ton regard

C'est le revers de ton amour
La vie qui pèse un peu plus lourd
Comme une marée de silence
Qui prends ta place et qui s'avance
C'est ma main sur le téléphone

Maintenant qu'il n'y a plus personne
Ta photo sur la cheminée
Qui dit que tout est termine
Tu nous disais qu'on serait grands

Mais je découvre maintenant
Que chacun porte sur son dos
Tout son chemin comme un fardeau
Les souvenirs de mon enfance

Les épreuves et les espérances
Et cette fleur qui s'épanoui sur le silence
Ton absenceJe dors blottie dans ton sourire
Entre le passe, l'avenirEt le présent qui me retient

De te rejoindre un beau matin
Dans ce voyage sans retour
Je t'ai offert tout mon amour
Même en s'usant l'ame et le corps

On peut aimer bien plus encore
Bien sûr la haut de quelque part
Tu dois m'entendre ou bien me voir
Mais se parler c'était plus tendre

On pouvait encore se comprendre
(Ton) Mon enfance à pali, deja
Ce sont les gestes d'autrefois
Sur des films et sur des photos

Tu es partie tellement trop tôt
Je suis resté sur le chemin
Avec ma vie entre les mains
A ne plus s'avoir comment faire

Pour avancer vers la lumière
Il ne me reste au long des jours
En souvenir de ton amour
Que cette fleur qui s'épanoui sur le silence......

Ton absence

Monday, December 04, 2006

الى جدتي العزيزة

الى جدتي العزيزة


سأحكي اليوم عن امرأة عظيمة في حياتي ومهمة، هي جدتي. الكل يحكي عن الناس الذين اخترعوا أشياء أوأشخاص مهمين، ولكنني أنا سأتحدث عن ربة بيت أثرت فى حياة حفيدتها من فرط كرمها وحنانها
ولدت جدتي فى نابلس فى فلسطين وسكنت هناك، عندما بلغت الخامسة عشر من عمرها خرجت من المدرسة قبل أن تأخذ شهادتها وتزوجت من جدي الذي بلغ 30 عاماً فى ذلك الوقت. أنجبت جدتي خمسة أولاد، ثلاث بنات وولدين، وكانت أمي الوسطى. لم تسكن جدتي فى مكان محدد فقد تنقلت من بلد لبلد وذهبت من فلسطين الى لبنان و الى عمان والى الرياض فى السعودية. لم تعرف معنى المنزل، لأنها أضاعت منزلها، أضاعت فلسطين، وفارقت أهلها للمرة الأولى إلى مكان غريب عليها. ربت جدتي أولادها بشكل ممتاز
الآن تعيش جدتي فى الرياض، السعودية. وكل سنة تذهب الى عمان، الأردن وتجلس هناك بضعة أشهر، بين فترة وفترة نذهب لها أو هي تجيء إلينا، وأتحدث إليها عن كل شيء يخطر ببالي لآخذ رأيها عن الأشياء التى سأفعلها والأشياء التى لا أفعلها. نعم أنها لم تكمل دراستها الثانوية، ولكن هي من أذكى الأشخاص الذين أعرفهم وهي مليئة بالمعلومات المفيدة
جدتي، إفتكار عزالدين كمال تلاعبني كل يوم بعد أن تشرب القهوة التركية اليومية. تارةً نلعب برجيس وتارة أخرى أنا أتمدد وأحط رأسي على حضنها وهي تلعب فى شعري وتقول لي عن أيام زمان. وعندما أفارقها أتصل بها لكي أسمع صوتها الحلو ولكي يذهب الحزن عن إحساسي لفراقها.
اليوم فى السيارة سمعت جدتي أغنية قديمة من ايام زمان وبدأت تغني، فامتلأ وجهها بالفرح، وتسألت هل هي مشتاقة لأيام زمان؟ أكيد .. ولكن لماذا؟
الكل يعرفها بعائلتي بتيته الموز، لأنها دائماً تطعمنا الموز لكي لا نجوع. عندما لا نريد أن نفعل شيء إليها، دائماً تقول حلفت ونحس باننا مجبرين، ونفعل ما تريد. فأنا دائماً أتسأل، هل هي حلفت أو فقط تقول هذا؟ جدتي دائماً تتحدث عن فلسطين وأكثر شيء أريد أن أفعله فى الدنيا أن أحررها لها وأعطيها إياها كهدية، ولكني أعرف أن هذا لن يحصل
جدتي، أنت من أكثر الناس الذين أحبهم، فأنت امرأة فريدة، شكراً لكل ما فعلتيه ولم تفعليه، شكراً للهدايا، وشكراً لأنك جدتي وأشكر الله على هذه النعمة. ماذا سأقول للناس عنك: هل أقول جدتي عندها رغبة أن دائماً تجدل شعري، أو أقول جدتي أحضرت لي جبنة جدولة من السفر معاها يوم قبل ما تسافر. لا، لن أفعل هذا، سأقول أنا سمر الأنصاري عندي أفضل جدة فى العالم، أفتكار عزالدين كمال، امرأة بسيطة ولكنها مثقفة ومتمكنة في أشياء كثيرة
...والسلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته
سمر الانصاري
الصف الثامن أ

Friday, December 01, 2006

ماذا أفعلُ

ماذا أفعل؟
ُماذا أفعل ُ وقد ضاعت مني ابنتي الغالية سمـر ؟
بحثت عنها في غرفتها فما وجدت إلا أشياءها والصور
ناديتها و كان صوتي عاليا ً حتى سمعه الحَجر
بحثت عنها في أرجاء المنزل وفى كل بقعة من الحُجَر
وناديت ثانية و لم أسمع إلا الصمت و الدمع الذي انهمر
من أنادي ليبحث معي، أحمـد أم عمـر أم قـدر ؟
سألت عن حبيبتي، التي قلبي عليها انفطر
سألت عنها الربيع والصيف والشتاء والمطر
سألت عنها الصباح والليل والشمس والقمر
سألت عنها الشروق و الغروب و البحر
سألت عنها فقالوا " رحلت وأخذها منك القــدر
ماذا أفعلُ وقد رحلت صغيرتي، أخت قدر و عمـر؟
ماذا أفعلُ وقد أخذت معها البسمة وحلت مكانها العبر
الصبر تصبرت به ، الإيمان تبطنت به ، ولكنني اشتقت لسمـر
أريد أن أضمها إلى صدري وأقبلها وأهمس في أذنها خبر
أريد أن تلمسها يدي وأراها لترى عيوني البصر
"أود لو أصرخ بأعلى صوتي "عودي ياحبيبتي سمـر
لماذا قسوت علي وأخذتها مني أيها القــدر؟
لماذا أخذت أخت و رفيقة قــدر وعمــر؟
لماذا أخذت مني درة بل أثمن الدرر؟
ولكن أذكر ربي الرحمن الذي يبشر الذي صبـر
فأكبت صيحتي وأدعو لها بالرحمة عند رب البشر
وأحمد الله الذي لا يحمد سواه على مكروه أو ضرر
أم سمر

©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

My Family's Oral History

My Family’s Oral History

An oral history is a true event that has happened to your family that is passed down through word of mouth. Some can be heroic and talk about how an ancestor fought in a war, another can be about love and talk about how your grandparents met, and another can also teach us lessons such as mine today. This event took place a while ago, with its main character as my grandfather’s brother Dr. Subhi Hamadeh, or my great uncle, may god bless his soul. This event happened in Lebanon. It is a simple incident that has taught me a valuable lesson.
Subhi Hamadeh used to go to the barber every once in a while to cut his hair or get a shave. The barbershop he went to recently got a new employee, and one time Subhi went, and the new employee cut his hair and constantly covered his face with a towel. Subhi thought this was all part of the new employee’s style, as would anyone else. After Subhi was done he went pay, but he didn’t find his wallet! He thought that he left it at home, but when he went home he didn’t find it! Then he told his wife what had happened at the barbershop. She laughed and said, “Don’t be foolish, he stole your wallet, and kept on putting the towel on your face so that you don’t see him”.
My great Uncle Subhi had learned a valuable lesson, and I have learned one too; always be cautious. His wife was amazed with his naivety that every time he would do something of that manner, she would say, “What? Did they cover your face with a towel again?” Now, if an incident like this happens in my family, she says it, and we understand her. My Great Uncle Subhi has taught everyone a valuable lesion, possibly without realizing it. I think I will laugh every time I hear this story, and maybe someday I will be telling my own children this true story that happened to their mother’s Great Uncle Subhi.

Done by: Samar Al-Ansari
8A

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

SAMAR'S UCAS personal statement

During the Bahrain Model United Nations Conference last year, I desperately wanted to pass a resolution I had submitted over the issue of alternative energy sources. As I began to speak to the other delegates present, I instinctively grabbed a white board marker and began to draw a direct application of economic theory, the externality graph. As I contextualized the diagram, I began to see more and more heads begin to nod in approval. To my ecstasy and delight, the resolution was passed, marking my first successful act as an amateur diplomat. I have always seen the link between economics and politics, but at that moment, I realized that economics is the key to cooperation between nations. Through economics, one can overlook the conflicting ideologies, religions, habits, etc. that are accompanied with politics. Economics, to a great extent, deals with money, a universal concept independent of the prior setbacks. As a result, political and cultural barriers can be removed making the global community one step closer to the idea of a universal citizen. After my attendance at the MUN Conference, I was determined to study something related to economics, politics, or finance because I wanted to directly be involved in lowering the political barriers between nations through the use of economics.
I am torn between my desire to work in a political post or a more corporate environment. To be frank, the limited job opportunities in Bahrain is one of my major concerns, and thus I am considering more than one degree. My main subject of interest is Politics and Economics, but Economics and Finance as well as Finance and Accounting both fall under the scope of my interests. Bahrain is becoming a booming financial area with the coming openings of the Bahrain Financial Harbor and the World Trade Center. In addition, the majority of the business firms in Bahrain are all global ones. Thus upon my obtainment of these degrees, and consequently working in the financial sector, I know that I will indirectly be dealing with politics and economics due to the universality of the business firms. A goal of mine is to affect a change, and through dealing with things at a small scale such as financial deals between a firm and another, one can ultimately affect a change in the larger sense.
Not only do I feel passionately about the degrees I have chosen, I feel that I will be able to excel in those particular fields. Upon my performance at the Model United Nations Conference, I attracted the attention of many judges. I was then given the title of delegate of the year, and consequently was nominated to spend a week at the United Nations Headquarters in New York where I would meet UN Secretary General Kofi Anan and be present at various council sessions. My academic performance also led to my nomination to attend the Global Young Leader’s Conference at Washington DC, which unfortunately I could not attend. I am an extremely determined and focused young woman and that is reflected through my academic performance, as I have been a member of my school’s Honor Society for the past two years.
My interest in economics, politics, and finance stems to the high level of respect I regard each with. These three studies have to power to unify, change, and create an understanding of people. Growing up in the Middle East I have witnessed the political turmoil in the region, and economics as well as finance give me hope of a prosperous future.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

"Yuma" by SAMAR Al Ansari

Samar Al-Ansari 11.5 Written Task #1 May 24, ‘05


After reading about Okonkwo and his daughter Ezinma’s relationship, I felt as if I was reading about an Arab girl’s relationship with her father. Some Arab fathers favor sons over their daughters, especially in the tribal days, and I wanted to illustrate the parallel of the Ibo society with the Arab society. Ezinma desperately wanted to please her father as do many Arab daughters. The neglect of a father is traumatizing both for daughters in the Ibo and in Arabia.


“Yuma, I am invisible to him,” said Leena as she began to weep silently. Her head laid in her mother’s lap, as her mother gently stroked her hair. Leena held her mother’s hands and examined the exquisite henna designs printed on her beautiful hands-they always seemed to amaze her. Her mother’s hands were beautiful yet strong, just like her. Zaina’s hands were worthy of her daughter’s admiration.

Zaina’s jallabiyah grew slightly damp as her daughter’s tears began to roll down her cheeks with more force. She could not understand her husband, how could he neglect a daughter as beautiful as Leena? “Habibti, your father isn’t trying to hurt you. It’s just, you know how it is with fathers and their sons. Don’t cry over things that you can not control.”

“I wish I was a boy! He would pay attention to me then! He would hug me, kiss me, and smile when he saw me. He would be proud of me! I wish I was a boy!”

“Ya bunaytay, be careful what you wish for. I was once a young girl like you who desperately wanted her father’s attention. I too was tired of the sitting in the harem all day; I wanted to sit in my father’s tent. I wanted him to smile at me when I brought him his mint tea in the afternoon; I wanted to be his everything. But after my mother told me the story I am about to tell you, I finally accepted the matter.

Many years ago in the neighboring city of Najd lived a young woman who was just one of many siblings. She was the youngest of three sisters and nine brothers; Fatima was as invisible as a ghost. Fatima received overwhelming love and care from her mother Zainab, but no recognition whatsoever from her father. Every morning, Fatima would leave her mother’s tent carrying her father’s freshly starched ghutra. She would walk in, kiss his shoulder, and hand the soft fabric to him. He would run a comb through his hair, and his beard, then put the ghutra on his head without even looking at her. She would then turn away and hear, “Ya bint Zainab, tell my wives that I am ready for the morning meal.” He didn’t even know his own daughter’s name. Day after day, she would hear the same thing, and a part of her would die. She would swallow her tears, stare at the ground, and curse her existence.

Fatima tried to impress her father in any way possible. She would bring him most of his meals, a bowl of water in which to clean his hands after the meal, and his pipe every day. But, he didn’t seem to notice. To him, she was merely Zainab’s daughter. Fatima never gave up on her father, she knew that he would appreciate her one day, and be thankful that he had a daughter like her.

Once Fatima prepared for her father a delicious date cake prepared with tender love and care. She was sure that this gesture would go appreciated, and was waiting with anticipation for her father to wake up from his afternoon nap in order to bring him his cake and tea. As she was preparing the tea, her brother Salman came in and said, “Fatima, I can’t bring myself to tell Father that I’m going to leave for a few weeks. Do you really think he would notice?”

“I am sure he would notice, after all you are his son and not his daughter. But father has seemed quite forgetful lately, and I think he will be able to handle two weeks.”

Salman picked up the tray of tea and cake and said, “I sure am going to miss my afternoon talks with father. I’ll take this to him, I’m on my way to his tent anyways.”

Fatima opened her mouth to stop him, but she let him go. Salman was leaving, she would have plenty of time to spend with her father after he had a taste of her cake. Fatima decided to follow Salman and listen to their conversation in order to find out if her father enjoyed the cake. After what seemed like forever, she heard Salman pour the red steaming tea, and after a few minutes, she heard her father say, “Mashallah, this cake is exquisite. Teslem yedek habibi. Thank you for this delightful treat my son.”

“It is quite tasty, but I must confess my sister Fatima baked it herself.”

“Fatima? Which one is she?”

“She is the youngest of your daughters Baba, my mother Zainab’s youngest as well.”

“Oh, she is one of Zainab’s daughters. Anyways Salman my son, how is the market?”

Fatima’s sadness turned to rage in a split second. She was not angry at her father for neglecting her, but she was angry at Allah. Why did he choose to punish her in such a way? She vowed to herself that she would change fate, and get her father’s recognition in any way possible. Suddenly, it came to her. Fatima was almost a replica of Salman, so she decided she would pose as him for a few weeks. She would win her father’s love, if only for two weeks.

The next morning after kissing her brother goodbye, she went into his tent, donned his thoub, tied her hair up in a bun beneath her ghutra, and applied kohl to her face representing facial hair. In a matter of a few minutes, she was transformed into Salman, her father’s son, not merely Zainab’s.

Over the course of two weeks, Fatima began to go to her father’s store in the market regularly. Nobody suspected that she wasn’t Salman, and her father greatly appreciated the success that she created for his store. “Salman, habibi, you make me prouder every day. You have improved my business, and have entertained me with your thought provoking conversations. It’s almost as if you are a different person.”

Fatima was as happier than she imagined. She spent every waking moment either at the market or in her father’s tent. She was the perfect son. Her father began to boast about Salman to many of his friends thus attracting potential wives for his son.

One day after a long tiring day at the market, Fatima went in her father’s tent to have tea and saw a group of men. “Salman, this is Essa and his two sons from the Al Rasheed clan. We began to talk earlier today in the market, and I think you would be perfect for Essa’s daughter Hind. I was just about to send for you, what do you think my son?”

“Anything you say father,” said Fatima who was in a state of complete shock and confusion. As she began to sit down, her brother, the real Salman entered her father’s tent.

“Salman? Is that you? But then who is this?” exclaimed the father in obvious confusion.

“Yes, father I was out of town for a few weeks. Who is this?” said Salman as he began to approach Fatima. He looked deep into her eyes and saw the tears begin to form. He touched her soft face smudging the kohl; he knew it was Fatima. In a moment of anger, he pulled the ghutra of her head with extreme force and slapped her.

The father dropped his tea cup and stared at his daughter. He began to shake, but he controlled himself. He did not want to hit her in front of his guests, but he did something much more hurtful than a slap. His words were sharper than knives. He looked at her and said, ‘You used to be my daughter. Then you pretended to be my son. But now, you are nothing to me. Get out!” He then spit on her, and that was the last time she ever saw him.


Dry your eyes habibti, and accept the fact that men and women here are different.”

Friday, November 24, 2006

Samar will always be here

Samar
Its hard to move on
to stop thinking about u
everytime i try i slip more and more
be strong they tell me
smile for those around u
i want to hear you laugh again
i want to see you smile
cant you come back and just visit for a while?
We all miss you dearly
cant stand the thought without u
it seems impossible that you are gone
as if the wind came by and just took you away
like a leaf off the ground
you floated in the wind
waving your final goodbye in a gentle dance
samar i know your still here
you haunt my dreams lingering still.
although it has been three months since then
my tears still fall again and again
time will not claim my love for you ever
friendship is immortal it lives within your stories
never will your memories fade
it glows like your soul strong and steadfast
longer than time, forever.
Laila Al-Yafi

Thursday, November 23, 2006

كنت أحلم ُ


كنت أحلم
بمستقبل واعد ِ لك يا حبيبتي سمر، كنت أحلمُ
كيف لا ؟ وأنت النبيهة الذكيـة التي الله أكرمُ
ُكيف لا ؟ وأنت الصفات الحميدة عليك الله أنعم
والتحاقك بالجامعة بفرع الاقتصاد والمالية كنت للناس أتلكمُ
وللشهادة التي ستحصلين عليها بعد ثلاث سنوات أرسمُ
ُوالدراسات العليا التي كنت تريديها وقلت ِعليها أصمم
وأن تنبؤي مركزا قياديا بعد التخرج كنت أنجمُ
والتفكير بأحفاد المستقبل "تركي ومساعد ومشاعل" كنت أتنغمُ
وأنتظر بفارغ الصبر أن يأتي هذا اليوم لألاعبهم به وأطعمُ
ولينامون عندي مع أطفالِ عمر و قدر، و القصص لهم أكلمُ
و كنت أنتظر هذا اليوم وأتوسل للكريم بدعائي و أتمتمُ
ُ ووعدتك بأن أعطيهم كل وقتي وحبي و حناني، أقسم
"وتساؤلك "هل سيدرسون بابن خلدون حيث كنت أتعلمُ ؟
"كنت أقول لك" يا حبذا، ولكن يا ابنتي لا نعلم الغيب، الله أعلم ُ؟
تبددت تلك الأحلام كلها و حل الغير محلها برحيلك عند الأكرمُ
وعندما أتذكر أحلامك يا ابنتي، أحزن لعدم تحقيقها و أتألمُ
وأحاول أن أتصبر والصيحة التي بداخلي أكتمُ
وأواسي نفسي قائلة" إنها عند الذي عليها مني أرحمُ
"إنها عند الخالق فله أسلم أمري و أستسلمُ
وأراك تنظرين إلي َّ قائلة " أمي، عن عدم تحقيق الحلم لن أندمُ
"ولاعن رحيلي من هذه الدنيا، فبالنعيم إن شاء الله سأنعمُ
و لكن شيء يصرخ بداخلي " لا، أنا التي دوما أبني و لا أهدمُ
"فكيف يمكن لأحلام قرة عيني أن لا تتحقق برحيلها السريع المؤلمُ؟
فعلى تحقيق أحلامها الصغيرة و الكبيرة، إن شاء الله سأقدمُ
حتى المقهى الذي خططت وأختها قدر له، بإذن الله سأتممُ
سنعمل جميعنا لتنفيذه كما أحبت، إن شاء رب العالمين الأعظمُ
"وبإذن الله سنعلم طفلا فلسطينيا يقول" لا أريد كغيري أن أظلمُ
هكذا سنحقق لسمر بعض من أحلامها و هي بالجنة بإذن الله الأرحمُ
أم سمر
©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

In Memory of Samar

It happened so fast
So soon
Startled me
Left me dazing
Feeling isolated
It put me in a state of confusion
I hazed in shock to the news
It had to be illusive
It wasnt her epoch
It couldnt be
It was too early for her demise
This couldnt be..this story
Must be twisted
Too young
She was only 18
She was so pure
Too innocent
My mind rambled
And more thoughts transpired
Truth was slowly revealing
I could hear the elegy as it whispered in my ear
It was so near.. so lucid
I can hear it echoing in my head
Sighting me to reality
There was no elucidation
Searching..
I couldnt find an explanation
It made no sense
Everything seemed so shadowy
So dusky
Standing there..isolated..
I felt like giving in
I was too traumatized to respond
felt like i was breaking into chunks
My heart whimpered silently
As it rattered
Everything seemed to be distant
As the news wriggled under my aloof skin
And into my blood
Baffling the truth
Keeping it murky
Puzzled, my heart shed with tears
Looking for the answer
It was mystified
I was flouting slowly
In a grasp, reality guised itself
Shattering me into pieces
Leaving me isolated..
Allah yr7mch yl'3alya


WRITTEN BY: YARA HASSOUN - WRITTEN ON: (NOVEMBER/22/06)


IN MEMORY OF SAMAR AL-ANSARI( SEPT/5/06)

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

SAMAR advises you not to smoke



SAMAR did this when she was in elementary school !
I found it hanging on the board of my old office today.It has been hanging there since she wrote it .I had moved more than a year ago to my current office but kept a lot of things in the old one and I went to look for file and it caught my eye.I feel there are two messages in this:
1) to advise her loved ones not to kill themselves by smoking, 2) that I continue my research on tobacco use.
Um SAMAR

Monday, November 20, 2006

In Loving Memory...


I did not know whether or not I had the right to say anything, since I did not personally know Samar. I merely knew her as Qadar's little sister I now know that was a huge mistake on my part. When I heard of the news, I did not believe it… did not want to believe that something that tragic could happen. I wanted to call Qadar, give my condolences, but the words could not come out right. They refused to, and still, I do not know if I have the words to do Samar's memory justice.

However, not a day goes past when she does not come to mind; thoughts of a life cut too short. A beautiful, intelligent young woman with hopes and ambitions, who had so much to give to the world. Just because her life was cut short, though, does not mean she didn't accomplish much while she was alive.

The fact that Samar was able to touch so many lives in just eighteen short years should make those who knew her very proud indeed. Many pass through this world leaving little impact, but this was not the case for Samar. People who did not know her at all have been touched by the loss of her; she was truly one-of-a-kind. Um Samar… I have all the respect in the world for you and your family. Samar became the person she was because of the love and support of the people around her, most importantly her family.

And even though she is not physically among the people that love her, a part of her remains with everybody who keeps her alive in memory.

With the passing of a loved one, it is hard to remember that everything happens for a reason and it is all a part of God's greater scheme of things. But just remember that although she is gone for now and left you alone, and nobody will ever be able to fill the hole that her absence has left in everybody's hearts and minds, this is only temporary, and you will see her again. Do not be sad about the times you have lost, but look forward to the times you will have with her once again.

My prayers go out to your family; that you stay strong during these dark times. And if ever you need a helping hand, God is only a prayer away.

In memory of Samar Ahmed Al-Ansari, a loving daughter, sister, and friend to all… Allah yir7amha.

Naudia Jawad

عدت يا رندة و العود أحمد

********
....عدت يا رندة والعود أحمد
....ليس اختيارا.. ليس قرارا... بل جبر
****
....نتمرغ بالفرح ونتمتع بأحلى أيام العمر
...وتمضي ليالينا الجميلة وبصحبة القمر
...نعيش بنشوة عجيبة إلى وقت السحر
...ثم
...ثم تخطف الأقدار منا ليالينا والسمر
...نجزع....نبكي....نصمت
...لقد سرقت منا أحلى الدرر
...ومع هذا
...تظل الشمس متعاقبة مع القمر
...تظل الأنهار والأزهار والجبال والبحر
...يظل تغريد الطيور والحياة تستمر
...نزرع البذور...ونقطف الثمر
...ميزان العدل ثابت من خالق البشر
...ولا يقف دوران دولاب القدر
...حتى و لو رحلت سمر
...ولكن
...يبقى البلاء بابا من أبواب الأجر
...فهنيئا لمن لا يقف لديه دولاب الأجر
...ويفوز من ابتلى فحمد ربه وشكر
...
لقد شربنا الخير وتجرعنا الحب والفرح إلى حد السكر
...فهلا أزحنا السكرة ونعاود للفكر
...أعلم أن الحزن أضعف من أم عمر
...أعلم أن الاستسلام ليس من شيمة أم عمر
...وأعلم أنها لا تنسى ولم تنسى ولن تنسى سمر
...عدت يا رندة والعود أحمد
...ليس استسلاما
...ولكنه ايمان بالخالق... بالقضاء والقدر
مريم خالد القبندي

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Ahmed Al Umran Wrote

About 4 years ago... I started hanging out with some of the girls like sarah, dana, and samar. Probably the best years of my life. No hard school work (IB), no stress, just relaxation and enjoyment.

One story that samar have is when we were both in London for a winter vacation. Her, her sister, my sister, and I all planned to go out. That day I met up with her on oxford road. We started talking and talking about so many things. We started with the people in Bahrain, in London, in school (since we are both taking IB and have no classes together), and so many other things. We talked about where we might go to college, how we were doing in our IB subjects, and all our friends back in Bahrain. We walked for a while, then both our sisters decided to go shopping in topshop. So we joined along and we went up to topman. There I started trying out anything I can find. Then she picked out a really nice hat, Michael Jackson style. It was perfect and I bought it strait away. Now everytime I wear that hat, it reminds me of her. So this goes to samar to answer what she said to me in the year book: ‘Ya, I love the hat.’

I got to know her and her friends better and used to hang out with them almost every weekend. We would go out to eat dinner or go to friends house, sometimes just to talk. Our favorite restaurant was luigis by saar avenue. It was considered our place. We would always go there to eat, since they make amazing pizzas, and after that probably go to danas house to sit and relax. One day that reminds me of samar so much is one day we were at danas house. I think it was just me, her, dana and latifa. We started talking about the most random things and she started telling us how misunderstood she was. I still, to this day, don’t know why she thinks she’s misunderstood. But we were all so happy and laughing so much at what she was telling us, that we decided to agree that she is misunderstood. And to this day, her name still stays on my phone as misunderstood. I will never remove her name to never forget her and all the good times we had.

I love you samar and me and everyone else will never forget you. You might be far away by distance… but you will never be by heart or soul. Thank you samar for everything.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

SAMAR'S IB TOK Essay


Ibn Khuldoon National School
International Baccalaureate
TOK Essay
Candidate Name: Samar Ahmed Al-Ansari
Candidate Number: 0554-007

Essay Question:

Sometimes we hear reasoned arguments that oppose a view to which we are emotionally committed. Sometimes we hear a passionate plea to a view we have good reason to reject. Bearing this in mind, discuss the importance of reason and emotion in distinguishing between belief and knowledge.




At times reason conflicts with emotion and the age old question of “Do I listen to my head or to my heart?” emerges. As a result, confusion is provoked making the task of determining knowledge from belief a difficult one. While determining knowledge many tend to give reason more weight, however at times reason may be unworthy of such weight depending on the area of knowledge one is discussing. Perception, language, emotion, and reason are threads in a quilt used to determine knowledge. Even though all threads appear in the quilt, the emerging thread is determined by the area of knowledge.

When looking at the areas of mathematics and science, it is clear that reason is the emerging thread in the quilt; the thread of emotion does not even seem to appear. For instance, in math, when one is trying to prove that point X is the midpoint of line AB, he goes about things using sequential, logical steps while moving from one point to the next. Firstly, he would measure the distance from A to X, then he would use his logic and to try to prove that the distance from X to B is congruent to the distance from A to X. Thus, he would measure the distance from X to B, and find that it is in fact equal to the distance from A to X making X the midpoint of the line AB. After proving this, one then uses deductive reasoning and generalizes by saying that a point that lies exactly in the middle of the line is the midpoint of that line. Reason was what made the statement “X is the midpoint of line AB” knowledge; emotion played no part. Proofs and the scientific method follow logical steps, and the conclusions formed at the end are a process of deductive/inductive reasoning.

When dealing with art, all the threads of the quilt seem to emerge, however emotion tends to have the greater effect. Since art is extremely subjective and personal, emotions tend to play a bigger role in determining knowledge because they communicate one’s reactions to his perceptions and create within him his own thoughts concerning the artwork. A year ago, the song “Hide and Seek” by Imogen Heap[1] (Appendix A) came on the radio leaving me filled with sadness. I believed the song was about heartbreak and about how difficult it is to have the one you love leave, and since art is so personal, knowledge concerning art is subjective, thus my belief became knowledge to me. The song had such an effect on me that I searched for the lyrics that same day. While listening to the song, I read its lyrics only to find that the depth and meaning I found while listening to it were non existent when I read the lyrics. Lines such as: “Trains and sewing machines. All those years they were here first” made absolutely no sense to me; it seemed that it was random gibberish. However, my emotions indicated to me that there was more to the song; they indicated to me that this song was about love. The singer’s voice, the beat, and the melody of the song all helped provoke such a sad emotion within me. My reasoning told me that this song was definitely not about heartbreak, but my emotions indicated otherwise; I went with my emotions. Not only does emotion play a major role in music, but it also plays a role in most art. In poetry, plays, movies, and others, the artist persistently appeals to emotion either through the use of emotive language or through visual aids that provoke a specific emotion. Artists would not appeal to emotion if it did not help the audience to understand the message the artist was trying to convey. If emotion was not a good indicator of knowledge in art, authors would not resort to figurative language that convey emotion, songwriters would not use emotive words that provoke emotion in the listener, and directors would not use visuals that provoke emotion in their movies. Some might say that reasoning is used for determining knowledge in art, specifically through optical illusions. For instance in the picture of the duck/rabbit[2] above, one instantly sees a duck, however through reasoning he is able to see the duck’s beak as rabbit ears and thus is able to see the rabbit. Even though reasoning can be used, emotion tends to play a bigger role in determining knowledge due to the immense subjectivity of art.

Social sciences are used to make sense out of the somewhat strange human behavior thus through reasoning and appealing to the mind human behavior can be explained. While searching for and analyzing patterns, we tend to use reason, thus reasoning emerges in the social science quilt. If you look at Economics you realize that all the observations and conclusions formed are based on logic and reasoning. One of the fundamental economic laws, the Law of Demand[3], simply states that as the price of a good rises, people will demand less of it. This law was formed after economists used their reasoning to recognize a pattern in the market, and consequently used deductive reasoning to form their conclusion. The law itself makes sense, and through reasoning economists were able to label this law as knowledge. Since social sciences deal with human behavior, some might believe that emotion is a good indicator since one must feel in order to fully understand man’s actions. Even though emotion can be a good indicator, it is not without its drawbacks. Everyone is different and consequently everyone feels differently, thus it would be difficult for one to fully understand how another person may be feeling. Although emotions may help strengthen the understanding of human behavior, they can not be solely depended on due to the variability of human feelings.

Reasoning plays a major role in History, as through reasoning one is able to understand the causes and effects of previous events. While examining the Cuban Missile Crisis[4], one uses reasoning to determine the causes and effects of the crisis. Since Cuba is extremely close to Florida, it is clear that the development of weapons so close to the US created fear and panic in the White House, leading to the US threat to Cuba. Furthermore, through reasoning one can conclude that the crisis will worsen the relationship between the two and lead to socioeconomic consequences on Cuba due to the power of the US. Reasoning determines how you know in history, while emotion determines what you know. When events get retold, they become so tainted with emotion that they influence your own thoughts. For example, the way a Lebanese Christian would tell the events of the Lebanese Civil War would be different than the way a Lebanese Muslim would say it; each person will tell the events in a way in which they appear to be the victims. Each person’s beliefs, experiences, and feelings create a bias that taints the events being told and influences what the listener knows. History is facts told with a bias dependant on the speaker, thus many consider the added emotion part of the knowledge claim. A problem with using emotion is that, sometimes, we are unable to filter out the passion of the person who is telling events and we consider the bias and emotion as knowledge and take it as fact.

In ethics, emotion seems to be the emerging thread in the quilt. The ethical dilemma of abortion makes complete sense; if you don’t want something, get rid of it. However emotions speak to some and tell them that abortion is unethical. The guilt one would feel when undergoing an abortion would prove it is unethical. Those who believe that abortion is ethical result to reasoning and say that since the fetus is not developed yet, abortion is ethical. Furthermore, reasoning says that they have valid reasons for not wanting the baby and thus they should abort. Often in ethics, reason contradicts emotion resulting in controversy. However, it seems that emotion may be a better indicator of what is considered ethical, because, in ethics, our reasoning tends to justify things in order to benefit our self interest.

Emotion has such an overwhelming power on man that it can impose the speaker’s beliefs on the listener. In an excerpt of Saddam Hussein’s speech to the Iraqi’s marking the fourteenth anniversary of the end of the Iraq-Iran War[5] (Appendix B), Hussein strongly plays on Islamic and Arab patriotism in order to gather the support of the Iraqi people. By using words such as “jihad” and “forces of evil”, Hussein makes the Iraqis believe that it is their duty to defend Iraq against its enemies. He imposes such a strong belief on them, that to them it becomes knowledge that Iraq’s enemies will be disgraced. War itself is not reasonable, but through emotion Saddam Hussein managed to manipulate what the Iraqis believed. Hussein’s passion and anger is transferred to the listener making him take Hussein’s words as facts. It is clear in this circumstance that emotion can transform knowledge into belief without justification; in other words, we respond so passionately to emotion that at times, we take whatever we’re told as knowledge.

Emotion and reason both play major roles in determining knowledge depending on the area of knowledge one is observing. Our emotions convey to us things our minds simply can not understand, and our reason conveys to us things that our hearts do not. Both indicators are problematic; however, without them, many knowledge claims cannot be justified.


[1] Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap, May 20, 2005, Letssingit.com, March 3, 2006 <http://www.letssingit.com/?/imogen-heap-hide-and-seek-hg6khx7.html>
[2] Optical Illusion Art Gallery #1, February 23, 2005. Cool Optical Illusions, March 2, 2006, <http://www.coolopticalillusions.com/rabbitduck.htm>
[3] James D. Gwartney, Economics: Private and Public Choice (London, UK: The Dryden Press, 2003) p. 57
[4] J.A.S. Grenville, A History of the World in the Twentieth Century (Cambridge, USA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1994) p.506
[5] Extracts from Saddam’s Speech, August 8, 2002, BBC News, March 1, 2006, <http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/not_in_website/syndication/monitoring/media_reports/2180282.stm>

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Palestinians Face Budget Crisis

Palestinians Face Budget Crisis
Economics HL, Commentary No 4
Source of Extract: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/4672690.stm
Date :February 2,2006
Candidate Name: Samar Al Ansari
Candidate Number:0554-007


The World Bank’s warning of worsening prospects for the Palestinian economy comes after the sweeping victory of Palestinian militant group Hamas in its parliamentary elections last week. The World Bank, an international organization designed to provide loans as well as sources of funds for investments mainly for the less developed countries[1], has withheld loans from the Palestinian Authority(PA) in the past and will probably do so once again due to recent events.

Furthermore, many have threatened to cut off their aid to Palestine because of the fear that they might be funding terrorists. Countries such as the USA and the EU have threatened to cut off the unilateral aid, aid given by a specific government, to the PA. The PA is heavily dependant on the foreign aid, whether it multilateral, aid given by a organization such as the WB, or unilateral aid. Thus the cut of foreign aid could have drastic effects on an already suffering Palestinian economy.

In spite of Saudi Arabia and Qatar’s immediate aid to the PA, the worsening of economic conditions is still a probable event as the magnitude of the gain in aid is incomparable to the magnitude of the loss in aid.

Foreign aid is one of the major sources of income to the PA and since the PA is the major employer in Palestine, unemployment in addition to recessionary pressures in the business cycle are probable. Many expect this, thus business pessimism will spread throughout the Palestinian economy. The threats of the WB, the US, and the EU have caused many to speculate and thus the level of investment, a major component of aggregate demand(AD) that is already low due to the political uncertainty of the region, will decline further. Furthermore, the PA will have less money to spend on the economy, thus government expenditure, another major component of AD will decline as well. Thus the multiplier effect will prevail, which is when a reduction in AD has an even more magnified effect on the level of output. Bearing in mind the multiplier effect, which intensified this downturn pressure, the Palestinian economy will be pushed more and more towards collapse.

However, organizations such as the WB pay little regard to the possibility of assisting Palestine. Palestine is not capable of development without aid. It lacks the funds and resources needed to modernize and develop. As the PA will have less to spend on Palestine, many of the indicators of economic development such as higher literacy rates and improvement in the overall standard of living[2] will not be enhanced.
The PA will not be able to spend more on health and social benefits. It will be incapable of improving the already struggling educational system, which could lead to a decline in both literacy rates and the level of high school graduates. Most importantly, since the Palestine mainly produces primary goods, the decline in the general price levels will have an impact on the economy. Usually as the price declines, total revenue will increase. However, since primary goods are both income and price inelastic, a change in the price level will not lead to an increase in the consumption of Palestinian goods by Palestinians and its trading partners The cut of foreign aid not only stunts economic growth, but makes development in Palestine an unachievable goal.

On the other hand, in the absence of multi and unilateral aid, NGOs, nongovernmental organizations such as the Red Cross that aim to decrease both environmental problems and the suffering of the poor by providing basic social service, will have a more prominent role in the Palestine which could be of immense benefits to Palestine. But the prevailing effects on the Palestinian economy are probably going to be for the worse.

The WB’s aim is to help the less developed, thus it shouldn’t punish the Palestinian people due to speculations concerning a supposedly terrorist political party. Aid being given to the PA can be monitored, but a cutoff is not a reasonable solution. Through funding the PA, ultimately the Palestinian people can be helped. International financial institutions such as the WB have a responsibility towards less fortunate countries, and more importantly to the people of these countries.

Note: Figure was excluded from original document


[1] Alan Glanville, Economics From a Global Perspective, (Oxford, UK: Glanville Books Ltd., 1998) p.471

[2]Alan Glanville, Economics From a Global Perspective, (Oxford, UK: Glanville Books Ltd., 1998) p.574

Sunday, November 12, 2006

يقولون لي

يقولون لي
يقولون لي" لماذا كل هذه الصور والأشياء التي تعملين؟ِ
"لماذا تعذبي نفسك وتريدي دوماً أن تتذكرين؟
"وأقول لهم" لا أريد أن أنسى ولن أنسى مع السنين
ويأكدون لي بأن الزمن خير دواء ومع الأيام ستنسين
مع الأولاد والأصدقاء والأهل والعمل ستلهين
"وأقول لهم" هل تنسى الأم ان فقدت الجنينِ؟
فكيف أنسى و قد فقدت وردة بعد ثمانية عشر عاماً كاملين؟
كيف وفقدت ياسمينة عطرت أهل البحرين الطيبين؟
كيف وقد فقدت قطعة مني وبتر من جسدي عضواً ثمينِ؟
وأحدث رحيلها فجوة في قلبي كلما التفت شمالاً ويمين
كيف وقد غدا بيتنا كئيبا وكل فرد منا حزينِ؟
وأباها وأخوتها يتعذبون، لكن أمامي غير ُمظهرين
"ويقولون لي "كل البحرين تألمت لفراقها لست وحدك تتألمين
أقول " أعلم، ولكن ليس لها أماً غيري عند رب العالمين
ولا أنكر أن الفراق عَمَ الأهل والأصدقاء وجميع المحبينِ
"ولكنني الأم الثكلى التي بكل نظرة ونبضة قلبٍ تشعر بالأنينِ
كل هذا الحزن لا يعني بأننا بحكم الله غير راضيينِ
ولكن الفراق صعب فكيف إذا فارق الأحباء مسرعين؟
"كيف؟ والسفر طويل، وانتظار اللقاء يحدده أكرم الأكرمينِ
"يقولون "هي ليست وحيدتك، عندك غيرها أولاداً ستتصبرينِ
وأقول "أولادي عمر وقدر، حياتي، ولكن لا أحد يحل محل الغائبينِ
أولادي كنزي، فكيف إذا واحدا منهم أصبح من المفقودينِ؟
"أولادي بهجتي وهدف حياتي، فكيف إذا أصبح واحداً منهم من الراحلينِ؟
....حياتنا لم تعد مثل الأول ِ، حتى ونحن صابرينِ
....حياتنا لم تعد مثل قبلٍ ٍ، حتى ونحن مؤمنينِ
....حياتنا لم تعد مثل الأول،ِ حتى و لو سلمنا أمرنا لرب العالمين
....حياتنا لم تعد مثل قبلٍ ، حتى ونحن لله دوماً حامدين
أم سمر
©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

Friday, November 10, 2006

I Carry Your Heart With Me

When I first heard this poem I immediately thought of my late father (Allah yarhamuhu) and dedicated it to him and all those closest to my heart. Today, I dedicate it to our beloved Sammar (Allah yarhamuha), to her parents (may Allah's sakeenah descend on their hearts and ease their suffering), and to all those for whom Sammar's friendship and affection meant much more than just a passing memory.
May Allah bless us all with His infinite rahmah and ridah.
Yasmine Fahim


I Carry Your Heart With Me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Mr. Baraka Writes for Samar...

أكتوبر1 ،2006

،فكر نيّرمتوقد
عقل منفتح
إرادة قوية
هكذا عرفت سمر، وهكذا عرفها مدرسوها
لقد كسبت سمر حب واحترام كل من عرفها، مدرسين وطلبة
رحمها الله وأسكنها فسيح جناته
وقلوبنا مع أهلها

شوقي بركه
مدير المدرسة الثانوية
مدرسة ابن خلدون الوطنية

Saturday, November 04, 2006

مَنْ يا سمر؟

مَنْ يا سمر؟

لماذا يا حبيبتي سمر ذهبِتِ و تركتيني؟
وعند درج المنزل لم أعد أراكِ تنتظريني؟
مَنْ يا سمر عند عودتها إلى البيت ستُناديني
و تبحث عني في كل غرفةٍ لتراني أو تُريني؟

مَنْ يا سمر ستتصل بي بالعمل مَراتٍ و مراتٍ لتحاكيني؟
و كنت تستفسرين إذا مشغولة أو باجتماعٍ كي لا تزعجيني
و تخبريني خبرًا أو سؤالا أو عن موعدِ رجوعي تسأليني
أو عن يومك و برامجك مع الأصدقاء أ و مشاريعك ُتعلميني

مَنْ يا سمر ستسألني" أمي صليتِ أم سَتُصليِنِِ؟
"أأصلي وحدي أم نصلي معاً لربِ العالمين؟
وإن ُكنتُ صليتُ، إلى غرفتي سجادة صلاتك تحملينِ
وأقولُ لك "هل غرفتي مسجداً أم لماذا هنا تسجدينِ"؟

كم يا سمر جلست معي لتحدثيني
و لنخطط معا للجامعات وبالمستقبل كنا منشغلينِ
و عما جرى بيومك أو همومك الصغيرة تشاركيني
وعن صديقاتي و أحوالي و يومي تستفسرينِ

كَمْ يا سمر أحببتِ الدخول إلى المطبخِ لتُساعديني
وكم مرةٍ أعددتِ كعكةً أو فطيرةً أو سلطةًً لتفاجئيني
وكم مرةٍ أعددتِ مزيحاً جديداً من العصائر لترويني
و لم نأكلْ ألذ من "الأومليت" والساندويتشات التي كُنتِ تَعدينِ

مَنْ سيقولُ لي " أمي إسمعي حجتي قبل أن توبخيني؟
"وإن وجدتنني مخطئةً لك الحق أن تؤنبيني
"وقصاصاتُ الورقِ التي كنتِ تكتبهاِ وأنت صغيرةً " أمي سامحيني
وتضعيها على وسادتي طالبة الرضا إن شعرت بأنك ضايقتني

كم كنتِ تجلسين في غرفتي لنتحادثُ و تستشيريني
وعندما أبديَ تأثري على فراقِ عمرٍ و قدرٍ تواسيني
و كم أقلقك السفر للدراسة فوحدتي كنت ترهبينِ
وإذا رأيتنني أعملُ لساعةٍ متأخرة كنت تعاتبيني

سنتان بقينا سويا بعد سفر إخوتك للدراسة تونسيني
ومرارا ذهبنا إلى مجمع السيف حتى تشترينِ
وللذهاب معك إلى دار البارحِ أو كوكوز تناشد يني
"أو إلى نزهةٍ في السيارةِ تقولين" هيا أمي خذيني

كم ذهبنا إلى الجزيرةِ لشراء الأغذية سوياً لتساعديني
أو تقولين" أمي، سأذهب لوحدي لا تتعبِ نفسك و ترافقيني
"سأجد لك كل شيء كتبته على الورقة صدقيني
و كنت بارعة فتشترين كل ما أريد و قلما تخطئينِ

كم كانت عيناك ُمعبرة و تتكلمُ قبل لسانك و بها أحيانا تعانقيني
وإذا مرضتُ تخافينَ علي وتطلبين من القدير أن يشفيني
و تنظرين إليَ بحزنٍ و كم كنت تتأثرين
وبأسلوبك الخاص تحاولين فعل أي شيئًاً لتداويني

وإذا رأيتني جالسة وحدي، للخروج من المنزل تحثيني
فأقولُ لكِ" سعادتي أن أبقى بالمنزل "و كم كنت تستغربينِ
"تقولين "أنا بغرفتي مشغولة بالدراسة فلماذا هكذا تفعلين؟
"أردُ عليك قائلةًً" لن أخرج من المنزل إلا إذا كنت ستخرجينِ

وسجادة الصلاة إن غيرتُ مكانِها من على الكرسي تعاتبيني
وأجمل الأغاني يا الغالية كنت تحبين أن تُسمعيني
"أمي أنصتِ إلى الكلماتِ ا لجميلةِ و رأيك خبريني"
ولا أنسى حزنك على ِذكرى و على صوتها كم كنت ُتطربينِ

من يا سمر، سيأكل فطيرة التفاح التي قلت لي" أطعميني
"وأعديها لي قبل سفري أمي، أوعديني
و كم ألححت على شراء تذكرة السفر مبكرًة لتسافرينِ
و عن الحقائب و عددها و الوزن الإضافي كنتِ تقلقينِ

و أخر يوم عن دموعي يا سمر كنت تسأليني
"و قلت لك بعد إلحاحك" إن فراقك للجامعة يبكيني
فضحكت و قلت" أمي الوقت أمامنا، فأنت إلى انجلترا ستأتينِ
"وسيمر الوقت سريعا وترين عمر و قدر و تريني

كلها بضع ساعات يا سمر، رحلت، و تركتيني
و أباك وأخاك وأختك وأحباءك الكثيرينِ
آه يا سمر، كم أفتقدك يا نور عيني
وأدعو أن تكوني بالجنة عند الرحمن لنا تشفعينِ

أم سمر

©جميع الحقوق محفوظة للمؤلفة

KPMG


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Monday, October 30, 2006

مريم القبندي كتبت


منذ أصبحت لدي عائلتي الصغيرة... وأنا أحاول أن أوازن بين طموحي اللذي لا يوقفه شيء، وبين ارتباطي بهذه العائلة.... فكنت دائما أسعى أن أحقق خطواتي داخل بلدي وفي أوقات غير أوقات حاجة أسرتي لي.... ولكن تشاء الأقدار إلا أن أخطو خطوة بعيدة وخارج بلدي.... لا أعرف كيف ترتبت!!!.... ولكنها لاقت مباركة أسرتي الصغيرة.... فالغالي بارك لي قبولي في جامعة الخليج العربي، وتحمس لدراستي هناك.... وأبنائي فرحوا لفرحي.... وشعروا بفخر أن أمهم ستواصل دراستها العليا.... وأمي فرحت وخافت بنفس الوقت.... لأنني لا زلت ابنتها التي لا تقبل لها أن تسافر لوحدها لخوفها عليها....على الرغم من أنني أصبحت أما

لا أتذكر مشاعري يوم سفري للبحرين.... ولكن أتذكر جيدا أول شخص تعاملت معه عند وصولي هناك.... أول إنسان كان بانتظاري....
د.رندة حمادة
عندما قابلتها.... لم يكن لقاء تعارف.... بل كأنه لقاء متجدد.... وكأنني أعرف هذه الإنسانة.... وكأنني قد قابلتها من قبل.... كان هناك ألفة سادت هذا اللقاء وكأننا قد التقينا كثيرا
حقيقة....تعودت على د.رندة.... ليس لأنها مديرة برنامج الماجستير....أو لأنها أستاذتي.... بل لأنها إنسانة، بكل ما تحمل هذه الكلمة من معنى
أتذكر جيدا كيف كانت تجيب على سؤالي:"شلون عيالك؟".... كنت في البداية أسألها هذا السؤال من باب السلام العادي ، والسؤال عن أحوالها، وأحوال أسرتها.... وعادتي في السؤال عن أحوال من أمامي.... ولكن بعدها أصبحت أحب أن أسألها هذا السؤال.... لأن إجابتها عليه ممتعة جدا.... فكانت ترد عليه بكل حب وأمومة وتجاوب على سؤالي ك "أم عمر....وأم قدر ....وأم سمر"....وليس د.رندة....كنت أحس أنها تستمتع وهي تتكلم عن عمر وقدر وسمر....وكانت غالبا ما تذكر أحمد – د.أحمد – مثلما تحب أن تناديه، لأنه من الواضح أنه مشمول بهذا الحب الكبير.... وكثيرا ما كانت تدمع عينيها وهي تتكلم عن هذه الأسرة
أتذكر كلمتها التي كنت دائما أرددها دائما بنفسي:"" أحلى شي صار لي بحياتي أني أصبحت أم "".... كنت دائما أردد هذه الجملة بنفسي إلى أن سمعتها من د.رندة، ففرحت لأن هناك من يشاركني هذه الفكرة

عندما اتصلوا بي من البحرين لإبلاغي بالخبر المؤلم.... كنت أعيش بحزن شديد.... بسبب وفاة والدي الحبيب - رحمه الله – كنت قد قطعت اتصالاتي كلها.... وكنت أعيش باحساس فظيع بأنه لايوجد حزن أكبر من حزني ولا مصيبة أكبر من مصيبتي.... وأن الدنيا أظلمت بموت والدي.... فقدت أحساسي بكثير من المشاعر.... وانغمست بالحزن وكأنها نهاية الدنيا
ولكن عند سماعي للخبر.... لا أعرف كيف أصف شعوري
خبر هزني.... لفظاعته.... خبر أيقظ فيني مشاعر لا أستطيع أن أصفها.... خبر جعلني أتذكر وجه د.رندة.... وأتخيل حزنها ودموعها لأنني كنت أحس بمدى عمق حبها لسمر.... ودمعت عيني لأنني أحسست بمدى عمق حزنها لفراقها لهذه البنت
فلم أستطع أن أتصل لأقوم بواجب العزاء بنفس الوقت.... ولكن ما أن سمعت صوت د.رندة بعد فترة.... حتى تيقنت بمدى قوة إيمان هذه المرأة.... وتميزها.... ومدى عمق الحب الذي تحمله بقلبها الكبير لأسرتها

....لا أدري
هل أقدم عزائي لأسرة جميلة فقدت حبيبة من حبيباتها؟
أم أواسي أم فجعت لفقدها قطعة منها؟
أم أشارك أصدقاء عايشوا حادثة فظيعة فقدوا فيها صديقة وأخت؟
....أم
أم أهنيك يا سمر على هذه الثروة التي تركتيها في قلوب أحبابك؟

كثيرين من رحلوا عن هذه الدنيا.... وكلنا سنرحل.... ولكن من يستطيع أن يزرع هذا الحب قبل أن يرحل؟
من يستطيع أن يترك ذكريات بهذا الجمال؟
من يستطيع أن يقابل ربه وهو طاهر.... وصافي ؟
من يستطيع أن يجبر كل عين على البكاء عند ذكر اسمه؟
من يستطيع أن يجعل بلد بأكمله يترحم عليه، ويدعوا له؟

....سمر
رحمك الله وغفر لك.... وجعل مثواك الجنة انشاءالله.... وألهم والديك الصبر والسلوان

....أم عمر
لا أستطيع أن أعبر عن ما يجب أن أقوله لك.... ولكن من أعماقي أقول لك : قلبي معك يالغالية .... والله يصبرك على فراق سمر.... ويبقيك لأحبابك.... ويبقي لك أحبابك ويبارك فيهم
مع كل حبي وعزائي
مريم القبندي
الكويت

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Translation of Yasmine Fahim's Poem


TO SAMAR

No, it is not true,
No, my baby, it cannot be.
You cannot be gone, my angel,
Quite simply, like the dew with the rising of the sun.
You were full of life, of joy, of hope, and of tenderness.

Yes, you were like a bird from paradise placed in our lives to teach us the true message of friendship, love, and faith.
We were taken in your wake, trustful that you would always be among us.

You had so many projects,
We shared your dreams, we looked forward to your tomorrow.
And like that, my child, you disappear, suddenly, without a warning. And like that, small flower, death tears you away from us and leaves us without defences against the brutality of your departure, without force against this throbbing pain which does not release us, without a desire to think of anyone but you

No, my pretty, you cannot have left us.
The fists are tightened and try to push back this absence, to refuse this silence. “No, not her, not Samar. She still lives."
Samar, small pearl, you lived, you live, you will always live in the bottom of our hearts.

Yasmine Fahim (Oum Mohammad and Waleed Al Bassam)

The shock.
The shock and incomprehension.
And then, the aftermath, it is the cry, this cry which spouts out of the depth of ones soul
The tears run, the sobs skin the throat.
Only one word emerges from this torrent of emotions: “Binti Samar, Binti ".
And then the refusal:
The fists are tightened,
the arms push back the pressures.
No, no, it cannot be her,
That cannot be her.
And the days follow,
bitterly.
Mornings are painful because the memory of your absense breaks our heart.
The distressing evenings which do not cease to break the heart.
Words, faith, the tender gestures do nothing there.
The heart is lost in a dark pit of sadness.
The heart is choked.
And then pain is less. Finally it calms when the memory of Samar believing, Trustful Samar, Samar who missed no prayer reminds us that only one exit is possible: the certainty that finally she sleeps in peace, dressed in white, pure and smiling, like an angel under the mercy of the eternal Allah.
Samar, you live in our hearts, forever.

Yasmine Fahim (Oum Mohammad and Waleed Al Bassam)

This tear, my soft, cradled in the depth of your eyes,
This tear which runs finally on your satin cheek,
This tear, little girl, tortures my heart.

Khala Yasmine

Friday, October 20, 2006

Khala Yasmine Wrote

A way to celebrate Sammar's gentle spirit


To all of Sammar's friends, acquaintances, and loved ones,
To Omar, Qadar, Mohammad and Waleed,

Latifa wrote: "Samar loved this song, some of u might remember this line from her nick (just a mirror for the sun): road trippin- red hot chilli peppers the ex-factor by Lauryn Hill".

"Just a mirror for the sun".....isn't this like Sammar to appreciate the meaning of this phrase? Wasn't she like a mirror for the sun to all of us? In truth, she was like a mirror for life, for the good things in us, for what each one of us is capable of being? Only last night, I expressed to my sons a thought that has not left me for the past week: Sammar had the gift of mirroring to each one of us the good that she saw in us. She truly did... this was the magic in her. And the only way we can celebrate her mission on earth, her life among us, her amazing gifts, is by doing our best to preserve the good she saw in us and by becoming the best of ourselves that we can be, as she believed we would.

Most of you have began a new life in different places in the world while attending various universities. This is the time for each one of you to mirror Sammar's spirit by devoting yourselves to the hard task of learning and succeeding, while appreciating every moment of your youth through ease or hardship, through happiness or sadness, through trials or errors. There will be obstacles, failures, temptations. But you will overcome, recover, and resist. You will...shine through it all......... like facets of a mirror which will reflect the light Sammar mirrored to each one of you through her love and friendship.

This is how, as Nizar Al Abbas so eloquently wrote, Sammar "will never" become "but a distant memory". She will live through each one of you, through your dreams, your achievements, your good hearts. She "will remain with" you, "as vivid, as beautiful, and as alive as she was when she was with us, because angels, being so precious, are never forgotten." (Thank you Nizar for this beautiful description).

We are so blessed for having been touched by Sammar's gentle, warm, and happy spirit. We have been truly blessed.

May Allah bless each one of you farther with the presence of each one of you for one another and for your parents and relatives. You too are precious to all. Appreciate that gift, moment by moment while keeping Sammar's memory warm in your hearts.

May Allah wrap you, my dear child Sammar, in His infinite love. Allah yarhamik ammourah.

Khala Yasmine.