Souls

There are these brief encounters with people that leave you forever enchanted. If you're lucky, you'll get the chance to talk to them; once in your lifetime or for the rest of it. And sometimes, just that magical eye contact is sufficient for your soul's bliss! 

Ocular meetings are provisions of what the passerby holds within them. The retinas have a way of exposing wickedness, treacherousness, or amiableness.

Our souls are not like us; they already know what they want. In their dimension, a single glance is more than enough.

Reading

There's a wisdom beyond our capabilities of comprehension as to why God created and designed every little thing in this universe. 
That being said, one should heed at the fact that the first verse of the Quran was the word " Read". Reading is a miraculous blessing that Allah has bestowed upon us. Reading takes you into another dimension that's not like any other. A world of it's own. Reading has the power of controlling your emotions. It can mend your broken heart and it can break it into even smaller pieces. As you read these letters that I have combined together to form words, they'll morph into images in your mind. And as you continue to read these words that I've braided together to form these sentences, I have therefore captivated your mind into my world and my thoughts. And as you're done reading this, you'll slip out of my thoughts and you'll be left to think of your own thoughts (maybe affected by my own) until you read another writer's words and slip into their world 😉

College Life in Libya Part III

By Nuha Dadesh

     What is life but a cruel, ironic, magical, and an enchanting journey?

     It seems like it was just yesterday that I was that high school sophomore portraying a presentation about the rise and fall of the notorious dictatorship that governed Libyans over the course of 42 years and its aftermath in Current Events class. Nevertheless, that wasn’t yesterday; it was almost four years ago in what was a politically-stable America. Flash-forward and I found myself amidst the Libyan struggle I was trying so eagerly to make my fellow classmates comprehend.

     The disappointing consequential turmoil of the “Arab Spring” has only deteriorated. Whatever conspiracy one adheres to believing in, there’s no denying that the revolutions that took place a few years ago all over the Middle East were meant not for its prosper, but its ultimate dismantlement. Moreover, the education sectors are among the crippling fundamentals of what was once hoped to be a civilized, safe state. On the contrary, as the dichotomies of good and evil strive for dominion, the good in the world always ends up with the upper hand.

     My third semester in the beloved faculty of Pharmacy began with a rough start. Firstly, I was among the many unfortunate students who didn’t get their names registered for taking and passing the Organic Chemistry Lab the pervious semester. Moreover, I got the impression that the majority were cursed with this nightmare called “Conflicted Classes!” Furthermore, the prohibition from rightfully taking some classes due the new limitation that was launched as to how many students can take each course caused frustrations to all, except the lucky ones who registered early. Also, a declaration of a new rule every now and then became the norm. The most shocking one was the ban on the “Sheets” that the students were accustomed to studying from. But just like Trump’s many executive orders, that was repealed swiftly. Irrefutably, the students and the professors of the faculty were like the tributes of the Hunger Games under the new dean’s administration. Fortunately though, the odds were ever in our favor for the most part!

     The clashes among the thugs and gangsters had an unambiguous consequence on the rest of the nation. Abductions were a topic that wasn’t uncommonly spoken of in the hallways of the faculty. Alas, they were spoken of because some were the kidnappings of students and staff members. Furthermore, the intolerable, prolonged power cuts during those bitter cold days left us in despair, and they resulted in the postponement of the finals after a massive demand.

     On one blessed night, I read this post about Allah that altered my perception on everything: “I am as my slave thinks of me.” For approximately a month, I was always perplexed in the lectures because of the hovering gloomy clouds that would shower a torrent rain of negative thoughts:  “I missed another quiz!” “I was marked absent once again!” In addition, my conscientious companions were taking more classes than me, which made me feel behind.  Although it was an instinct of mine, I knew better than to complain to my fellow human beings. And so, I cried and prayed to Allah; I relied on him for miracles that would leave me ever so grateful.

     Everything happens for a reason, you just have to have faith that it’s for a very good reason. A positive mindset that I worked hard on maintaining eased the rest of the semester. Subsequently, I began indulging in the appreciation of the miracles this world has to offer. For instance, the fascinating Dr. Iman Al-Mahjoubi intrigued me by her explicit teaching and lecturing.

     On the last day of the finals, Dr.Feras Al-Qaed, promised us that he would put out his well-known list of the top five students for Physiology on his Facebook page. Being the geeks that we are, we stayed up all night waiting for the results to come out. And as he pronounced each name from bottom to top, I found myself freaking out when I saw my the names of my friends’ and I pop up on my phone screen. Indeed, with hardships comes ease. To congratulate and encourage us, Dr.Feras generously invited us to his office where handed us wrapped gifts with numbers indicating our spot on the list!!!!

     Conclusively, this semester has been a roller coaster ride that I would love to go back in line for anytime! I befriended a group of geniuses who touched my life in a way I never thought possible. Whether it was the awesome “British Girls,” the sweet Aisha that lent me her favorite book, the enthusiastic Farah and Maram, or the wonderful Sabaa, I was enchanted to have them become part of my story. Finally, the faculty is full of resilient, open-minded people who continue to impress and inspire me. 

#Libya #Tripoli

The situation in Libya is deteriorating by the minute! Honestly, it just breaks my heart. I try to do my part; I study hard as a student and I try to spread positivity wherever I go. Unfortunately, from what it seems, that's not what everyone is doing. And the reality is that there's more of these inconsiderate, devilish thugs than those of genuine piousness and patriotism :/ These outrageous power cuts that last for hours beyond belief and tolerance are just a minor conflict that everyday Libyans have to deal with. Kidnappings and senseless murders that occur on a daily basis are the real horror stories of the aftermath of the revolution, which is something that should never be regretted because a dictatorship is as horrendous as its aftermath. One of the kidnappings which ended with an unmerciful murder is that of an infamous and respected shaykh, Nader Al-Omrani, really shook me to my core. It still infuriates me how his murderers, these bastards that don't deserve any goodness in the world, are still living (possibly, among us) with no punishment to their vicious act. No counter-back movements. The other kidnapping, which was a more realistic portrayal of what kind of anarchy we are dwelling in, is that of Dr. Ahmed Belhaj, my previous Anatomy lecturer. Every time, I remember him, his passion for teaching, his enthusiasm, everything and anything in fact it just BREAKS ME. It gives me the painful realization that any of us, anyone of our loved ones could be picked up in the streets and seen no more after that. No information about their disappearance, no sense of what kind of misery they're living in. In this freezing cold, God knows where they are making him spend his days and nights. I hear stories of a child being placed in a kitchen for months with his hand tied to his foot so he won't pray and a man who's just working hard to feed his family placed in the bottom pit of a well. And I pray to dear God that my own lecturer, one of the BEST anatomy lecturers Libya has to offer, isn't suffering; isn't DEAD ;(

Faith

By Nuha Dadesh

I was feeling conflicted and torn.
"Why am I here ?" "Why was I even born?" 
Pessimistic thoughts were taking over once again;
Life was getting boring and mundane!

But a hopeful thought started to flicker around
And I started to feel safe & sound.
Remembrance of my lord
That's what moved toward
Utter enchantment
Tranquility and contentment.
Relying on Him makes me secure
And my faith is what lets me endure
Whatever calamity comes my way!
And what a grace it is to pray
To the Creator of it all:
The skies, mountains & each rainfall

Power is Out. AGAIN!

By Nuha Dadesh
     A simple switch off could have the power to control an entire nation.
     As soon as I set foot in the, now destroyed, airport, I was welcomed with a power outage. And that was how my story with Libya’s infamous power cuts started!
     A baker making bread, a professor giving a lecture, a mom ironing clothes, a girl straightening her hair for a party, or a student having a late night studying session: they all come to a halt as the provision of electricity does too.
     Because life must go on, resolutions emerged. A prominent one is the power generators, and it didn’t take long for them to become widespread. However, their disadvantages led to further problems rather than a resolution. Firstly, their prices, never mind the need for benzene to fuel them, are absurdly costly. Moreover, a pounding stress results from the responsibility of maintaining them. In addition, they are an alarming hazard to the environment and dangerous. For instance, a man once lost a finger or two while trying to operate on one. Furthermore, a house burned down recently due to a power generator malfunction. Conclusively, Libyans have this thing where they don’t solve a problem from its roots; rather, they come up with solutions that center the problem without ever really eradicating it.
     Nevertheless, those with power generators are considered the “lucky” ones. When the blackout hits, the unlucky folks get to inhale the toxic air from the neighboring obnoxiously sputtering generators. The amount of hours that need to be endured without electricity usually coincides with the extent of dependency on it. For example, if it’s humid outside and an air conditioner is a desperate need, then there will be a power cut with a duration of eight hours or more. On more than one occasion, families had to deal with no longer functioning house appliances because a moron enjoyed pressing the switch on and off over and over again. Moreover, numerous businesses collapsed and others shut down. Ultimately, the power cuts’ torturing impacts exclude nobody dwelling in this North African land.
     The effects of the immense power cuts are endless. One of the incredibly frustrating consequences is the tedious Internet connection. Furthermore, countless homes end up with another shortage: water shortage. As for students, the will and zest to study diminishes as soon as the power goes out.
     The power cuts’ crucial timings and settings left the nation feeling cynical. There are areas that barely get to experience the misery of prolonged power cuts. But then again, how would a country indulge in a civil war if there wasn’t something vital for a living to skirmish over? No one genuinely knows the reason of the outrageous power cuts, but maybe it’s as one woman put it, “Our ticket for overthrowing Gaddafi.”
     “Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.” Every family has become accustomed to a solution or a routine for the inevitable power outages. Oddly enough, the antipathy and the bitterness turns into radiating energy as each house gets its lights back on.

College Life in Libya ~ Part II

By Nuha Dadesh

    You can bomb a building. You can bomb a city. You can even bomb a country. But the one thing you can’t just bomb out is the intriguing passion of education seekers of a nation.

    I started my second semester at the Pharmacy faculty on the second day of April. It was a sunlit day that rendered a prosperous omen. I ended up sitting on one of the stair steps that led up to the seats of the auditorium due to the crowdedness at the first lecture of Physical Pharmacy. Little did I know that I would find myself struggling to find an appropriate spot for the upcoming lectures as well!

    Apparently, a hectic administration can be found within every aspect of a system in Libya. There weren’t legitimate adjustments affixed with the new alterations concerning the schedules, lecture settings, and the timing of the examinations. As usual, the ones with the least power to do anything are the ones that get to taste the bitterness of consequences. For some reason, the class before mine was held back a semester and so there was a larger amount of students for each course than usual. Therefore, students commenced to wait right in front of the lecture doors in the tiny hallways; desiring a seat that would provide a suitable environment for learning something- if anything. In addition, outrage and infuriation from those who were held back caused an unfriendly atmosphere. Subsequently, signs were posted on the walls warning those who were causing jams in the corridors. Fortunately, amendments were made weeks later that suited us better.

    They seemed perpetual; the amendments that is. All throughout the semester, almost every week, there was an alteration that had been put into place. It was either changing our lecture hall settings or our course, lab, and/or examination schedules.

    Without a warning, exhaustion swiftly ensued. A six days a week attendance was strenuous to maintain. Moreover, quitting, which was an insistent thought, sounded much better than studying the piled up packets. However, as the first assessment started to approach, so did my zest.

    The laboratories depicted the lectures in a further fascinating way. For instance, during one of the Pharmaceutics Labs our assignment was to analyze prescriptions and reason which ones would be dispensable, which portrayed a mental picture of what working in a pharmacy would be like. Furthermore, the Physical Pharmacy Labs always offered the opportunity to deal with the instruments we so often heard about during the lecturers. The Organic Chemistry lab’s professor, the most enthusiastic faculty member out there, continuously astounded us with new information.

     Dr.Gabbaj has an ambition to bring out the best in his students. For example, individual oral tests were his special way of getting to know the potential pharmacologists’ level of knowledge in Organic Chemistry. Likewise, when I stood face to face with the Chemistry genius that once upon a time was honored by the Queen, my brain tended to forget everything it ever learned about Chemistry. “Next Monday, I want you to explain to the class which is more acidic: the Benzoic or the Salicylic Acid,” he spontaneously requested after I was apparently done with the oral test. “You will be the one reminding me!” he added. The unsolicited opportunity to give a presentation triggered eagerness from within me, and consequently I did my research on the Acids. The following Monday I took a front row seat. After he was done with his teaching, I raised my hand. “The Benzoic Acid thing?” I reminded him. “Oh yes, come talk to us,” he acknowledged. Confusion diffused throughout the seminar and all eyes were on me. I asked him one last time if I could give the presentation in English, which he replied to, “English, Arabic, whatever you want.” I wasn’t as nervous as I was during the oral exam. “I’m gonna tell you about the difference between,” I started off. “The differences,” he corrected. “The differences between the Benzoic Acid and the Salicylic Acid.” I continued. Long story short, up until I was done with the presentation, he was attentive as I spoke and corrected me when I was at fault.

    The faculty unequivocally became my second home. The persistence, courage, and enthusiasm that exuded from my fellow classmates made the challenges bearable. Furthermore, the kind gestures given by the guys that sold our “Sheets” always put a smile on my face. Whether it was the janitors or the head of the faculty, almost all members of the department worked hard and with pride, which rubbed off on me and put those pessimistic thoughts to sleep.

    “Without struggle there’s no strength.” The sleepless nights, studying, and exams during Ramadan were wearing and fatiguing, but they made us better students. In conclusion, as I ate my last Shawerma sandwich of the semester with my new college besties, I realized that what my dad advised me once was beyond true; “Humans are adaptable.”