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عرض المشاركات من أكتوبر, 2026

رسائل لن تصل #1

  عزيزتي السيدة غادة السمان قيل لي بأنك بعيدة عن السوشال ميديا، وقيل لي بأن عامل السن قد يكون سببًا في إبعادك عن بريد قرائك. أنا لم أعرف يومًا عنوان بريد قرائك، وحتى إن عرفته، فأنا لا أظن بأني سأكتب لك مثلما كتب غيري، لا أصدقائك القراء، ولا أصدقائك الأدباء بطبيعة الحال، ولا أعرف أساسا ما الذي عليّ أن أخبرك به، فقد تكونين سئمتٍ من رسائل المعجبين والمعجبات، من جيلك والأجيال اللاحقة. لماذا أكتب إذًا رسالة أعرف أنها لن تصلك؟ لأني أريد أن أطرح أسئلة، لا أبحث لها في الواقع عن إجابات.. لأن ثمة احتمالات أن تكون الإجابات مخيفة. لِمَ تضاءل عمودك الأسبوعي في القدس العربي حتى اختفى منذ سبعة أشهر؟ هل تعكفين على نشر كتاب جديد حقًّا ضمن سلسلة أعمالك غير الكاملة؟ أم أنك تعرضتِ لسكتة أدبية؟ كنت أتابع عمودك، إنما دون شغف حقيقي، إذ وجدت فيه تكرارًا.. أهو عمود أسبوعي أم طوق نجاة؟ أم أنه مجرد حالة تأملات تحافظ على مرونتك الأدبية ريثما يولد عمل جديد؟ كنت أرفض مواجهة نفسي بهذه الأسئلة، كأي مراهق لا يقبل نقدًا في نجمه المفضل. بل وأرفض فكرك تقدمك في السن، وأتشبث بالتماع عينيك في صورك القديمة، حالة أقرب لاض...

Kawthar Al-Jahmi’s Journey: From ‘Bint Tripoli’ to Award-winning Novelist

 For: https://arablit.org/ For June 2026, our Monthly Newsletter for Publishing Professionals (this month, curated by Masoud Masoud) will focus on Libya’s publishing scene: publishers, prizes, festivals, and how authors make things work in an unstable living, working, reading, and publishing environment. Thus, this month, we will be particularly featuring excerpts from Libyan works and talks with Libyan writers. Today, Kawthar al-Jahmi talks about her writing and reading journeys, the role of literary prizes, submitting her novel to the publisher a day before giving birth, and developing a writing practice while working and raising children. To start off with, can you tell us a little about your journey to writing and publishing? My understanding is that you first started writing under pseudonyms in various online forums, and that you moved from more essayistic and polemical writings to fiction. What motivated your turn toward fiction? And what is the relationship in your wor...

From Kawther Al-Jahmi’s ‘A Son of the Country’

 For: https://arablit.org/ For June 2026, our Monthly Newsletter for Publishing Professionals (this month, curated by Masoud Masoud) will focus on Libya’s publishing scene: publishers, prizes, festivals, and how authors make things work in an unstable living, working, reading, and publishing environment. Thus, this month, we will be particularly featuring excerpts from Libyan works and talks with Libyan writers. One of our featured authors is Kawther Al-Jahmi , whose A Son of the Country revolves around Majdi and his family; his father, Rashid, is a Moroccan who fled his country after a conflict with police in 1976 and found his way to Tripoli, where he marries his boss’s disabled sister Moufida. When they have children, the issue of their children’s documentation comes to the fore, as Rashid cannot secure his own paperwork, and Libyan law doesn’t allow Libyan women who marry foreigners to pass their citizenship to their kids. To make it worse, Rashid dies, leaving Moufida—with ...

From Kawther Al-Jahmi’s ‘The Colonel’

  For "words without borders"  Colonel Ali at Wadi Doum By Kawther Eljehmi Translated from Arabic by Ranya Abdelrahman I swallowed a whole lot of sand the afternoon we got lost in the desert. A few hours before we got caught, a passing sandstorm had blown into our faces. It had picked the worst time to hit because our scalps were already being burned by the midday sun, and if we’d been back at the base, we’d have grumbled about its timing. But we were busy running for our lives, so we couldn’t waste our breath on useless complaining. Little did I know it then, but this wouldn’t be the last time we had grit shoved down our throats. And the next time, things would be much worse. That morning, we’d hightailed it out of the Wadi Doum base. We lost the base in a battle at dawn, on March 23, 1987. The fighting had begun the day before at around five in the afternoon; it died down during the night and started up again at daybreak. Whoever managed to get away, did. But some of us fou...