By Zahra Hankir and ND*
There are so many terrorist (or kind-of-terrorist-) attacks out there these days, that it’s hard to keep track.
While we understand terrorism is certainly no laughing matter, we thought we’d put together a flow chart to help you figure out how to respond to such attacks during these dark times.
Are you a Facebook user? A moderate Muslim? A western media organisation? Vladimir Putin? Or even David Cameron?
Florence of Arabia has got you covered.
(Click on the image to enlarge).
* ND is a London-based ultimate frisbee player, flow-chart expert and journalist. She’s also a White Westerner.
Mariam alShaar is no ordinary woman.
She’s Palestinian. She’s a refugee. She’s gentle, yet she’s fierce and passionate. She comes across as being reserved, but she’s known in Lebanon’s Borj el-Barajneh as one of the refugee camp’s most powerful and influential women.
Perhaps most telling: Although Mariam doesn’t call herself a cook, she leads a team of chefs. She’s even launched a Kickstarter campaign to fund a food-truck, which she hopes will bring employment to tens of women in Borj el-Barajneh.
Indeed. Mariam is all kinds of extraordinary.
At Heathrow; about to board a flight to JFK. Stopped by security last second — literally moments before getting on to the plane — and asked to step aside.
Told that ‘I’ve been ‘selected‘ by the government of the United States of America to go through a detailed security check’ by a British gentleman who’s speaking in what can only be described as an upbeat voice coupled with a posh accent.
Some readers of Forbes, the Independent and other publications are getting a real kick out of a study that has found that religion makes children aged 5 to 12 selfish and stingy, when compared to atheist kids.
Islamophobes must be thrilled!
Saturday evening, Frieze Art Fair, London.
Lots of obscenely beautiful, hipster-chic people. Expensive artwork that I probably wouldn’t buy even if I could afford it (“The cliché around Frieze Art Fair is glitz,” the Independent reports).
It’s fun to look at, though. Not to mention the event presents the perfect opportunity to do some serious people-watching.
I wander around aimlessly before inadvertently, clumsily dropping my kuffiyeh (scarf) on the floor. No one in my immediate vision appears to have seen this occur.
Starbucks. East London. Tuesday evening. Killing time. Decide to find a quiet spot to catch up on ISIS-related news of the day. The dimly lit lower-ground floor is packed save a corner table that’s adjacent to a group of bearded (not hipster-bearded, if you get what I mean) professionals. At least eight. They’re partaking in an intense discussion. I overhear the words Muslim, Gaza and Guantanamo. Without thinking twice, I head to the vacant spot. I realize I’m uncomfortably close to their table. They notice me for a split second before returning to their discussion. To leave now would be suspect, I figure. So I take my jacket off and make myself comfortable.
* With thanks to the Council for Arab-British Understanding for inviting me to their screening of the film at Parliament
A Syrian Love Story is devastating in more ways than one. It tells the tale of a disintegrating marriage in brutally honest terms, against the backdrop of war. It illustrates the psychological effects of that dissolution, and the conflict in Syria, on the couple’s vulnerable children. It raises questions about gender and gender roles without offering conclusions. And it delivers a poignant examination of post-traumatic stress disorder, anger and addiction.
But mostly, A Syrian Love Story is a timely and timeless portrait of just one of millions of refugee families and how war can unrelentingly tear countries and people apart. Views on the refugee crisis currently afflicting Europe and beyond will either be reinforced or challenged by this 80-minute documentary, adding to its relevance and intensity.