Homecoming - العودة للوطن
A strong yellow-ray of light overexposes the side of the frame where she’s sitting on the frame. On the opposite hand, my mom’s presence is marked by her blue hair rollers, looking off camera. It’s been only three years since I was born. In the middle, Suhair sits with a white piece of cloth on her lap; her hands are gently complemented by the touch of her friend Amira. while Khadija sits silently on the ground in her short-sleeved white dress. It is the only photograph I have of my grandmother and her two daughters, my mother and Auntie Suhir, together.
That cataclysmic event propelled my search for safety and belonging, but with time, the question became: when was I ever really home? All of us come and go, with no destination but a dream of an entrenched sense of self. The hunt for an anchored identity in a world that remains in a constant state of flux.