Young Exodus

ـــ لماذا ندفن أنفسنا في هذه القرية المنسيّة.. المغبرّة؟”
ـــ ما رأيكم في السفر؟
ـــ إلى أين؟
ـــ العالم واسع.. ثمة آفاق دائماً
ـــ ألن يأكلنا الحنين؟
“ـــ الحنين لهذا القَفْر؟! للعجاج؟! لبلاد أهلها دائماً في عجلة من أمرهم ولا يفعلون شيئاً؟

ـــ أحمد يوسف عقيلة

You hear about the physical death in Libya, the accidental missile strikes or stray bullets, but you don’t hear about the little deaths, the prolonged withering of hope until nothing is left but abject, indifferent resignation. Libya has become a mass grave for the dreams of its young people.

It’s a conversation that comes up when talking about the state of the country. Those who can leave and have the means to have already packed up, three years back when it was apparent that things weren’t getting better anytime soon. Those who want to leave but are stopped by the multiple obstacles in their way (visa rejection, black market inflation) make up many of Libya’s youth today. I’ve heard too many stories from friends about multiple visa applications to study abroad (only to be rejected each time), of working two or three jobs to make the same living that one job could once achieve for you, of applying to any opportunity online that will give them a brief respite from the oppressive uncertainty and chaos. There’s not much left in Libya in the way of good education or promising job opportunities. Even those trying to create their own opportunities know that their success will always be limited by the situation.

Of course, these are the more privileged youth, those who received a decent education or have a supportive family encouraging them to seek their chances elsewhere. Then there are the young people from that section of society that is hidden and ignored, from poor families who have been hit hardest by the crisis (what poor families? say those in denial, those who still believe in the lie about the prosperous oil country). These young people, without enough “connections” to get them a job or scholarship, without any of the opportunities to give them a fighting chance, with a family that needs their support, will sacrifice their own futures for a chance to survive in increasingly impossible circumstances. Young men take up arms to fight in a war that makes no sense to them, young women married off to the highest bidder “to reduce the burden on the family.”

I remember one young fighter who said,  “We’re only fighting for our fallen friends; we know there’s nothing to look forward to when the battle is over.” This is the motivation that drives many Libyans to look for a way out. No notion of nationalism, or patriotic responsibility, is strong enough to keep people in a country that will take your best years and give you nothing in return. Those you know who’ve left call back to say, “Why are you still there? Get out while you can!”

Of course this phenomenon is not new; the country’s legacy of instability and war has always driven Libyans to find better prospects. The large diaspora abroad, disproportionate to the population, is a testament to that. But it’s never been this critical, the need to leave has never felt so urgent. Everything that has happened since the revolution has happened suddenly, so that even the imminent collapse of the country might strike us overnight. The past five years has taught us that it’s only going to get worse.

It’s easy to see Libya as a sinking ship that needs to be evacuated as soon as possible. But there are a few young people who are grappling with the issue through the lens of a moral dilemma. These youth, who rode the wave of hope following the revolution and achieved some level of success in their endeavors, are now wondering whether it would be right to leave. After all, wasn’t the point of the revolution to rebuild a new Libya? (it’s hard to remember what the point of the revolution really was though) If they leave, who will be left to help the country? But this group is a dwindling minority, as it becomes apparent that there isn’t much left to rebuild, that one person can’t change a society that remains steadfastly immobile. It’s a pessimistic and depressing view, but it’s also the reality now.

There’s a passage from Chimamanda Adichie’s “Americanah” that really gets to the core of the problem in any conflict country:

“…they would not understand the need to escape from the oppressive lethargy of choicelessness. They would not understand why people like him who were raised well fed and watered but mired in dissatisfaction, conditioned from birth to look towards somewhere else, eternally convinced that real life happened in that somewhere else…”

But they know, to some extent, that leaving the country does not mean leaving behind also the burden of being a Libyan. In that ‘somewhere else’, you will go through the humiliation and struggle of being a refugee, that you will still have to work tirelessly to make ends meet (probably in a job less fulfilling than the one you left behind), that you will be plagued by longing and homesickness and the familiar comforts of your community. I know one young woman who was abroad when her father became very sick in Libya. If she left the country, she may not be able to come back, but if she didn’t return, she might never see him again. Even outside of Libya, you’re still in a prison of sorts. But right now, leaving is the only solution that one has any control over.

Every month or so, I say goodbye to more friends, who leave in search of choice and in escape of war. Every evening, I sit with those who’ve remained and repeat the same questions; stay and fight, or leave? will the country ever get better? if we don’t leave now, will we regret it later? And every night, we walk away without answers.

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Inside Libya’s Burgeoning Youth Art Scene

The Berka Barracks in Benghazi, known colloquially as the Turkish Castle, is a U-shaped building in the middle of the Keesh district. A double row of arched windows line the length of the building’s walls and gives the building a stately look. Once a military outpost that housed Ottoman soldiers, the barracks have become abandoned and neglected over the decades, like most of Benghazi’s historic and cultural sites.

Panel discussion at the ARRA Gallery on the problems faced by art magazines in Libya

Panel discussion at the ARRA Gallery on the problems faced by art magazines in Libya

But during the first week of February, the castle played host to a cultural event, the first to take place on the premises in years. The event in question was the ARRA Gallery, a three-day art event organized by a group of civil society organizations and activists to highlight the young Libyan talent. Consisting of discussion panels, live drawing sessions and film screenings, visitors could also browse the temporary exhibition of work.

“The aim of this project is to give young Libyan artists exposure to the rest of society,” said Aya Mohammed, the main organizer of the event. “We want to encourage these artists to showcase their work, but we also want to show the world a different side of Libya.” Aya told me that the gallery is just the first phase of a bigger project to make Libyan art more global.

In a city like Benghazi, where intense fighting and a dire humanitarian crisis has plagued the residents for over two years, the idea of an art gallery may seem counterintuitive. But this gallery is just the latest event in a steadily growing art scene among Libyan youth. While politicians and fighters destroy the country, disenfranchised young people are using art as an outlet for creative expression, and, increasingly, paving the new for a new profession and new opportunities.

Live drawing session at the ARRA Gallery

Live drawing session at the ARRA Gallery

The 2011 revolution and subsequent war was a catalyst for new art movements in the country. Music, graphic design, photography and even graffiti were taken up by young people who were eager to express their passion in the rapid changes happening around them. Galleries, book fairs, carnivals and other cultural events were being organized in Benghazi, bringing together artists from the past generations with the new generation.

There was a lull in artistic creativity in the years after as Benghazi’s security situation rapidly deteriorated. Civil society, one of the main promoters of culture, was facing threats by religious extremists who saw no need for art in their post-revolution vision. The 2014 war made humanitarian relief the most urgent priority for the besieged city.

But, as life had begun to slowly return, so did the art scene. A popular Facebook group, ‘Art Lovers’, is an online forum with tens of thousands of members from across Libya to share their art and get tips on how to improve. This group organized one of the first art galleries in Benghazi after the start of the war, a statement of resilience in the face of conflict. A series of art events followed, from the publishing of the first Libyan manga comic, Habka Magazine, to the opening of Tanarout, a culture club that celebrates the arts and humanities. These events have created a momentum that has encouraged more youth to engage in creative hobbies.

This growing trend is not confined only to Benghazi. Cultural events are being frequently organized in Tripoli’s many art houses, covering everything from painting to writing to music. A new center called Warraq Art Foundation has recently opened its doors, and a new project aims to set up cultural palace in a historic public building. And art galleries and crafts fairs continue to be organized in more disenfranchised cities like Ajdabiya, Waddan, Ghat and Sebha.

A sample of work from the ARRA gallery showing diversity of methods; traditional, digital, manga, etc.

A sample of work from the ARRA gallery showing diversity of methods; traditional, digital, manga, etc.

The use of art has grown as well, not just as an expressive medium but also to shed light on important social issues. The Aegis Gallery held last November was organized to commemorate the Day for Elimination of Violence Against Women, and cartoonist Suhaib Tantoush draws satirical images on the everyday struggle of Libya citizens. Popular musician Fuad Gritli is known for his tongue-in-cheek songs on Libya current events, and artist Abdullah Hadia uses themes and symbols from Libyan folklore to revive cultural traditions.

But while the will and passion persist, there are still obstacles that deter the growth of these art movements. Weak infrastructure, worsening financial problems and a lack of cultural awareness still cripple the art scene, as the shadow of war still looms over the country. Citizens whose basic needs are not met do not have the luxury of focusing culture, and art has a historically infamous reputation in Libya as not being a “real” profession. “Art is a new market,” said Noureldine Elhouni during a panel on art magazines in Libya. “Investors are afraid to put their money in such a new sector.” And Libya is not exempt from problems faced by aspiring artists around the world, including a lack funding and sustainability.

A new movement of religious extremism has also emerged as a threat to this burgeoning youth art scene, particularly in East Libya. A shipment of books was confiscated by a police check point on its way to Benghazi, and religious authorities in the area claimed that the books promoted, among other things, secularism and atheism.  While this act was met with strong outcries – even prompting a widespread hashtag on social media which pressured the police to make a statement – it is a worrying indicator of things to come.

A visitor to the ARRA Gallery remarked to me that the gallery was an important statement in light of the recent fears, made all the more significant by its location in a culturally historic building. It will be more difficult to stem the tide of art in Libya as the community continues to grow, especially as new artistic avenues and techniques are explored. While the policy makers and government authorities continue to stall the development of the country, it’s clear that the youth have become the new safeguards of art and culture.

 

Roundup 2: More Libyan Blogs to Follow

Have I ever told you how awesome it is seeing Libyan growth on the internet? I probably have, but there’s no harm in emphasizing how important it is to see Libyans utilizing this flexible platform. Last year I wrote about five Libyan blogs that I enjoy, and now that list has grown.

Over at the Young Writers of Benghazi, we wrapped up another online writing contest, this time in cooperation with Wajeej Blog. The theme was to write a blog post, with the winning entries to be published on Wajeej. The aim was to get people to view blogging as a viable form of self-expression, and perhaps encourage them to start their own blogs. I’m currently brainstorming ideas to hold blog-writing workshops in Benghazi with other bloggers, to get more people familiar with this medium. With my university thesis and the dozen other things I have on my plate, I may not be able to actualize these plans anytime soon, but it’s definitely a goal I hope to achieve in 2016 (perhaps make 2016 a year of Libyan blogging?)

Another Libyan organization, the Tanweer Movement, also held a blogging contest, to award the best Libyan blog. The winner was announced during a great cultural event in Tripoli (you can see highlights of the event through the hashtag ). The winning blog is Khawater Bint Shareef, a blog on the thoughts of a young Libyan woman. You can check it out here.

And now, without further ado, here are more Libyan blogs that you, faithful reader, should check out:

7. The Silphium Gatherer: Started by a Libyan academic, Silphium Gatherer is a great resource on academic material about Libya’s history, politics, culture and a number of other topics. With material on Libya being as scarce as it is, this blog is a invaluable place to learn more about the country.

6. Abdulkarim Dwaini’s Blog: Abdulkarim is an active young Libyan who is the director of the Libyan Youth Culture Changemakers organization, which operates from Waddan, Libya. His blog highlights the key issues and events that he feels are important for civil society and Libya’s growth. It’s a refreshing look at Libyan civil society through the eyes of a motivated, inspiring young man.

5. Amjad Badr’s Blog: Another active young Libyan, Amjad is the director of Hexa Connection, an organization that promotes technology and tech activism among young Libyans. Amjad’s blog covers a range of topics, from personal recollections to thoughts on important Libyan issues. He also started the initiative #أنا_ادون to encourage more Libyan bloggers.

4. Fetrasha: Started by a good friend of mine and a great Libyan thinker, Ahmed Mahmoudy’s stream of consciousness posts are food for thought, offering insights into the mind of a Libyan youth who’s experienced both revolution and war. While the blog is still new, it’s definitely one to follow. Ahmed also runs Yes We Can, a youth organization based in Benghazi.

3. Wissamiyat: A seasoned Libyan writer, Wissam has been blogging for a number of years now. His writing covers current events in Libya, personal musings and trends in Libyan society. He’s also part of the Libyanblogs.org collection (which I mentioned in part 1), and also does his part to encourage Libyan blogging.

2. Tehrees: The author of this blog was also the 3rd place winner of our blog-writing contest. Tehrees is a blog popular particularly among Libyan youth, as it touches on important social issues through a unique writing style. An example of this is a modern day interpretation of dialogue between Sidi Khraibish (representing Benghazi) and Sidi Alasmar (representing Zliten), two historic Libyan figures, touching on the terrorist attack in Zliten and the war in Benghazi. It’s a personal, emotional way at looking at the events in Libya, a reprieve from the bland, empty political analyses we’re so used to hearing.

1. Rawad Radwan’s Vlog : This one is actually an exciting addition, because it’s a vlog (video blog), one of the first Libyan vlogs to appear on my radar, in fact. Rawad Radwan is an active Libyan with a mission to constantly seek out the silver lining in the Libyan situation, but with doses of pragmatism. Rawad vlogs about his personal interests as well as Libyan current events.


If this selection doesn’t keep you busy enough, you can head over to Wajeej to read the three winning entries of our Blog-Writing Contest. They are:

Third Place: “Here is Benghazi” by Ahmed Ben Omran

Second Place: “When You Plan to Emigrate” by Ghada Twair

First Place: “Why Do I Go On?” by Mohammed Ezzawi

You can also check out Huna Sotak (translated to, Here is Your Voice), an initiative started by Radio Netherlands Worldwide to give Arab youth a platform to express themselves. They have a Libya project entitled “Here is Libya”, with posts from different contributes. One of my personal favorite contributors is Ali Latife, an introspective young Libyan who writes on the situation in Libya and the hardships of being a young Libyan in the Middle East today. (you can read samples of his work here, here and here).

The most salient features of this list are that the writers are both young and active in their communities. These are Libyans with something to say, and who hold important insights on the state of the country. As more Libyans continue to use social media, and as social media becomes one of the few outlets left in the country for self-expression, I think we’ll be seeing an increase in the number of Libyan blogs. My hope is that, if our country eventually stabilizes, this will transition into published literature. In any case, I hope that the digital thoughts of Libyan, both young and old, won’t be confined to cyberspace, but will find its way into our collective culture.

Learning from Libyan Youth, and Dispelling a Few Benghazi Myths

Working group session (picture courtesy of Abdulkareem Dwaini)

Working group session (picture courtesy of Abdulkareem Dwaini)

Recently I was fortunate enough to participate in a workshop on the role of Libyan and Tunisian youth as agents of change in their post-conflict and post-transition countries (yeah, I know, buzzword-y title, but it was a UN event, so it was to be expected).

The main aim of the workshop was to draft youth-oriented strategies and projects for the next two years, focusing on four thematic areas; capacity building, policies, institution building and creating a productive environment. The projects were built around youth empowerment on an economic, social and civic level, with an eye on women’s empowerment and peace building. We spent two full days diligently working in groups on the issues that most affected us as youth.

What I most love about these kinds of events is that they give me the chance to meet and talk with Libyan youth activists from across the country. Aside from the brief insights we gain through social media, there’s very few chances for us to interact with our counterparts in other cities and regions. It’s interesting to hear about the issues faced by Libyans across a wide spectrum, to learn about the similarities and differences between our areas, and the work they’re doing in their own civil society communities.

There was a young man from Jufra who spoke about the cultural work his organization is doing despite the creeping ISIS threat from nearby Sirte. There were representatives of the Scouts of the Nafusa mountains who shared their amazing efforts to engage youth, as well as Red Crescent volunteers who have been tackling the daunting task of the migration crisis in Tripoli. Another young man from Derna spoke about the city’s revival in the wake of the ISIS overthrow, while a Sebha activist shared the human rights work her organization was conducting in Fezzan.

As representatives of Benghazi, we talked to other participants about the work we were doing without mentioning the outstanding political situation that the city was going through, in keeping with our stance of neutrality as activists. But the invariable questions about the war came up, although not quite what we had expected.

The most common question was, “isn’t Benghazi completely destroyed?” This question caught us by surprise because, obviously, Benghazi isn’t completely destroyed. But it’s not exactly in tip top shape either. We found ourselves having to give a detailed explanation of the city’s geography, front line areas and the role of the army, militias and extremist groups in the conflict. Benghazi residents know that the conflict here isn’t black and white, but describing the intricacies of a war is harder than expected to someone not familiar with the background.

What’s been happening, it seems, is that the media outlets have been airing pictures of a destroyed street in the Sabri district (part of which actually is destroyed) and portraying it as all of Benghazi. This is completely misleading, as Sabri is just one of over 20 large districts that make up our seaside city. But the picture is shocking enough to elicit the feel that, if this area has been completely destroyed, surely the rest of the city was affected. This is why other Libyans find it hard to believe that we’re holding workshops and other civil society activities, essentially living our lives the best we can. The situation isn’t exactly an easy one to cope with, but it’s far from apocalyptic.

Another strange rumor that’s been floating around is that people in the East want Khalifa Heftar to fill Gadhafi’s shoes. If you know the nature of Benghazi’s denizens, I don’t need to tell you how ridiculous that is. Nor do I need to tell you how utterly idiotic the other rumors are regarding tribes, separation and other controversial issues.

But like I mentioned before, Libyans almost never get a chance to properly interact with one another, meaning that common knowledge about my city is nearly inaccessible to other Libyans. So you can’t really blame them for believing what they hear through the media, and it helps to explain why the Libyan conflict has touched so many nerves and set off a slew of fights online.

Last year I attended a similar event, that time with youth from Misrata. Now, if the media is to be believed, the core of the problem in Libya is an intense and hostile power struggle between Misrata and Benghazi. But of course, the media can’t be believed. Us (the Benghazi gang) and the Misratis were initially a bit hesitant to interact (a small voice was saying, what if the media was right?) but after some ice breaking, both groups got along rather well. We all had the same vision and the same goals for our cities, and we were impressed by each other’s projects and passions. It drove home the realization that the conflict in Libya isn’t between Libyans; it’s between our depraved, asinine, power-hungry, arrogant, greed-driven politicians. And it’s no coincidence that these politicians all mostly happen to be old men.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Libya would be much better off if the aging politicians in power were rounded up and placed in a retirement home somewhere, and youth instead instated in positions of power. Regardless of the war, the country cannot move forward with fossilized thinking. The youth I met these past few days have reaffirmed my belief that we have the necessary people, they just lack opportunities.

Possibly the best part of the workshop was the final night we spent together as a group. We went out for dinner, and during the walk back someone began singing a Libyan limerick.  Pretty soon it turned into a full-fledged ‘keshk’ (similar to a singing circle), with people sharing bits of poetry and song from their regions. It’s a purely Libyan tradition, and it was fun to stand there in the night, sharing in that tradition together. We don’t get to do these kinds of things in Libya, especially now with the environment becoming more hostile. But you can mull over peace building and conflict resolution strategies in conference rooms for days, and ultimately, it’s those little moments that really create unity.

The Blurry Outline of Libyan Youth, and the Struggle Between Generations

Libyan youth from different geographic, socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds working together and presenting their demands for the constitution as one group, to representatives of the CDA

Libyan youth from different geographic, socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds working together and presenting their demands for the constitution as one group, to representatives of the CDA

I’ve been engaged in several youth-oriented projects in Libya lately, and I’ve come to realize several things about the oft-spoken-of-but-rarely-heard-from character that is the ‘Libyan Youth’. There is this idea of Libyan youth, an archetypal character that is almost a trope. This character is brought up by those in power, those trying to gain power or those who speak loudly of Libyan issues. The most popular platitudes include, “Youth are the flame of the revolution! Youth are the future!”

The “youth” they speak of are often characterized by the mental image of a young man in baggy clothing and a cap (I doubt very much whether anyone visualizes young women when they speak of youth) sitting in a street corner, throwing away their non-existent future while a vague dark shadow of bad influences lurks behind them. Everyone is concerned for the Youth, everyone knows they are important somehow, but this demographic is never investigated beyond the usual talking points.

To add to the unclear image, there is no national definition of who exactly qualifies as youth in Libya. 50-year old politicians like to half-joke that they, too, are part of the youth collective, because they are young at heart, and this should make them just as qualified to work on issues pertaining to youth. This kind of shameless imposition is neither uncommon or surprising; in Libya, the more labels and badges you can forcefully apply to yourself, the more you can control.

It’s very easy (and also accurate) to blame the older, aging generations for this blatant restraint and marginalization of Libya’s largest demographic. There are many factors that come into play that aid this injustice; cultural and social norms that place trust in the elderly over others, the lack of adequate education and empowerment for younger generations, and the lack of a national youth strategy or representative committee to protect youth rights. But there are other factors that contribute to perpetuating the status quo.

But this brings us back to the initial question; what is the definition of a Libyan youth?

There is no nationally agreed-upon fixed definition. Most agree that a person is a ‘youth’ by the time they’re 18. But the other side of the limit is fluid. Some youth CSOs consider 30 to be the maximum age a person can consider themselves a youth, while others go as far as 35 or 40. Many youth organizations don’t work with a fixed limit because, in their words, “we don’t want to leave anyone out.”

This is another point I’ve noticed, where youth, even when brought together and explicitly asked to discuss youth issues, will instead focus on issues of the country as a whole. They don’t see themselves as an entity separate from the rest of society, and this extends to their concerns for the country. In a workshop on the role of youth in achieving the UN’s sustainable development goals, two of the proposed projects focused on providing education to adult Libyans that haven’t finished schools. Let me reiterate; these are Libyan youth, concerned about the education of adults. Whether this reflects the selfless nature of the future generation, or their naïvity, is debatable.

There is a gap, in Libyan society, between the younger generation and the old. This gap became more pronounced after the revolution, especially between the generation that was hit hardest by Gadhafi’s reign of terror and the “February 17th” generation. You can hear the difference in the way they talk, see it in the way they behave, and really comprehend it when you interact with both. My generation has considerably more opportunities than their parents; things like travelling and technological access have helped Libyan youth to become relatively more open-minded and aware. (Of course, that could just be the youth in my own social circles)

This gap means that there is a difference of priorities. But the disproportionate representation and hold on power between the generations means that the priorities, concerns and aspirations of the majority of Libyans go ignored. Like most of the MENA region, Libya suffers from a chronic youth unemployment problem, which breeds more problems like militarized youth and an unsustainable economy. As you can tell from the current status of Libya today, youth issues are not exactly the first thing on the minds of our politicians. When it comes to young Libyans, the only thing the people in power seem to care about is how many they can ship to the front lines.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate the elderly. Nor do I think they should all be excluded from political and social life. But the truth is there in plain sight, even if it’s an ugly one; Libya’s revolution was taken over by a power-hungry generation that granted themselves license to run the country the way they saw fit, and bought off the younger generation with empty promises and small sums of money. The exclusion of youth from the process of nation-building has had the consequences you see here today (along with other factors, of course).

This is also why our small-but-resilient civil society have such a high percentage of youth involvement. No, scratch that, youth are the fundamental component of civil society. Their efforts and energy are key to making projects successful, and the older members of civil society are very conscious of this fact.

Libyan youth are more than just a blurry, undefined component of society; they are not a vague campaign promise, and including them in the nation-building process is more than just a favour that you can grant them. Youth are literally the future of the country, so stop using that as a catch phrase and start acting on it.

Short Stories and Innovations with the Internet

In order to stave off the creeping depression that threatens to engulf me after almost 40 days (argh!) of war, I will try to blog more often to retain these last beads of sanity before I start talking to the furniture. (I’ve met a really nice cabinet though)

The Young Writers of Benghazi has finally announced the winners of its online short story contest! Yes, we have been delayed, due to internet outages and being refugees and whatnot. But we figured, since everyone’s stuck at home complaining of boredom, why not publish the stories now?

An interesting phenomenon I’ve noticed with the writing contests we’ve held so far (online and at a local school) was the number of stories written in English. Now, we’ve made it clear that the story can be in either Arabic or English, but the majority chose English. I’m not sure if this is an additional challenge the writers chose to place on themselves, or whether it’s easier to express themselves and write in the English language. (I believe it’s the latter)

Arabic as a written language has been rather static. Because Arabic literature is still very limited in every aspect, the language hasn’t had a chance to grow and meet the contemporary needs of the people. What has instead happened is the development of local dialects; ‘slang arabic’, if you will.

I learned Libyan arabic (specifically, East Libyan, or ‘Shergawi’), from listening to my parents speak to each other. When I spoke it at university, they were amused that I could barely communicate and yet used ‘outdated’ terms that they hardly ever heard; the vernacular my parents had retained from our life abroad was the Shergawi of a different time, and had gone through changes. This kind of language development we see in individual countries with their colloquial local dialect isn’t happening to the formal Arabic that is the lingua franca of the Middle East and North Africa. It should be noted that it’s the youth who are responsible for this phenomenon. While I used to ask my parents to translate for me, it’s now me that’s translating the new ‘youthspeak’ for them.

Is that why Libyan youth prefer formal creative writing in English? It’s definitely something that should be investigated. I am toying with the idea of holding a writing contest that specifically asks people to write in informal Libyan Arabic. I think the results would be very intriguing.

But I bring this us up to segue into my next talking point, which is a blog called ArabLit. It focuses on Arabic literature and the issues related to reading and writing in the MENA, including the topic of language. I’ve been a fan for quite some time, because with the politics and unrest and numerous other issues in this region, no one has time to write about (or are uninterested in) its more human aspects. Recently it featured a post about the Young Writers of Benghazi, which was pretty awesome! Yes, the point of this entire paragraph was to brag, sue me.

As our little contribution to the world of Arabic literature (or rather, English literature written by Arabs. Huh.), we’ve posted the winning stories of our contest onto Wattpad, partly so we could have one place to keep the work we receive, and partly to nudge Libyans out of their Facebook cocoon into the World Wide Web. The condition for the writing contest was that the story have an underlying message or meaning, especially since the country’s going through such a rough time. Special thanks go to Wafia Sayf of the inspirational Volunteer Libya team for helping us to judge the stories (love you Wafia <3).

Alright, drum roll please. The winners of the stories are:

3rd Place: The Orphan Rami by Soliman F. Al-Faitouri from Al-Marj. The moral: Understand a person’s situation before you judge them. You can read the story here.

2nd Place: Why?! by Isra’a Faraj El-Sha’ri from Benghazi. The moral: Hard work is important if you want to achieve a fulfilling life. You can read the story here.

1st Place: Know Better by Safa Salah Hosson from Houn. The moral: Breast cancer awareness and why campaigning for it is important. You can read the story here.

Now, what is particularly awesome about the stories is that they came from different cities across Libya. The fact that our best story was sent to us from a small town in Southern Libya shows how much talent we have hidden here that can be unearthed through online initiatives. (You can check out the previous winning stories on our Wattpad page here).

Keeping in the vein of online initiatives is a project called Benghazi Skype School. Because the new school year in Benghazi hasn’t started due to the war (I cannot express how painful it was to write that sentence), a series of online lessons has been planned out by a group of Libyans. The kids at home watch lessons on their computer screens from teachers who have volunteered their time to teach them.

Another initiative is the use of MOOCs (Massive Open Online Courses) for supplemental education. This is being advocated for by FW:Knowledge, a project that aims to help Libyans utilize the internet for academia and general knowledge building. They recently set up a Twitter session to collect a list of online sites that offer free courses and resources, using the hashtag .

These type of projects do have their drawbacks. Internet access in Libya still isn’t widespread, and the slow speed makes livestreaming courses difficult. But it can help some people, which is important to recognize.

So I guess you could say the moral of this post is: internet access and more advocacy for open source education that targets Libyans has a lot of potential and should be looked into. Also, war sucks, make it end. Over and out.