Arabs & Arabian Records Aggregator. Chronicler. Milestones of the 25 Countries of the Arabic Speaking World (official / co-official). AGCC. MENA. Global. Ist's to Top 10's. Records. Read & Enjoy./ www.arabianrecords.org
Category: Non-Resident / PAO (Persons of Arab Origin / Descent)
The Moroccan footballer’s value on the transfer market is estimated at € 32 million.
Moroccan professional football player Nayef Aguerd has been featured in a new documentary that explores his inspiring journey from playing in the streets of Kenitra to joining Premier League team West Ham as a center-back.
The documentary, titled “Premier League Stories – Nayef Aguerd,” follows the Moroccan defender’s journey from playing for the Moroccan club FUS Rabat, Dijon, and Rennes in France, to joining West Ham United in the English Premier League.
One of the documentaries’ outstanding, particularly emotional scenes shows how Aguerd suffered a serious ankle injury that nearly halted his first season in England’s top league.
Speaking about the footballer‘s inspirational story, French football journalist Julien Laurens said, “I think Aguerd’s story is incredible. He is a symbol of a Moroccan kid who played in Morocco and who was born there and still made his way all the way up to the best league in the world.”
The journalist enthused: “For the kids in Morocco, Aguerd is this Hollywood story.”
Born in Kenitra, Aguerd started his career at the Mohammed VI Football Academy in Sale, a city near Rabat. He landed his first professional contract with Fath Union Sport, also called FUS Rabat, in 2014.
Aguerd spent four seasons with FUS Rabat before joining Dijon in the French Ligue 1. In 2020, he joined Rennes FC, another Ligue 1 club. After to years of brilliant displays during which he established himself as an undroppable and reliable defender at the heart of of Rennes’ defense, the Moroccan footballer signed a five-year contract with England’s West Ham United in July 2022
At a pivotal time in his professional life, the sought-after defender underwent ankle surgery after injuring his ankle in a preseason friendly against Rangers in 2022.
“The two weeks after the surgery, it was difficult to move, so I was in the hotel, taking a lot of pain killers,” Aguerd is seen explaining in the documentary.
Aguerd, whose current value on the transfer market is estimated at € 32 million, pointed out his much-reported, high-value transfer to the Premier League put a lot of pressure on him as he felt the need to prove himself. “When you come with a transfer value like mine, you want to show that you deserve it,” the player said.
Prior to playing for the Moroccan national team, Argued stated that it was his childhood dream to represent his country in the world’s most important competition.
Little wonder then that, in the documentary, the sought-after defender was ecstatic when recalling his country’s historic World Cup journey. “I will never forget this tournament,” he said of the Moroccan Atlas Lions’ heroics in Qatar.
Marking a significant contribution to the preservation of Arab and Islamic cultural heritage, H.H. Dr. Sheikh Sultan bin Muhammad Al Qasimi, Supreme Council Member and Ruler of Sharjah, has directed the restoration of eight rare Arabic books housed at El Escorial Library in Spain.
The restoration project is part of His Highness’s efforts to preserve the global heritage and manuscripts of El Escorial, particularly those related to Arab and Islamic cultures. The initiative continues Sharjah’s endeavors in preserving the cultural legacy of the region and underscores His Highness’s commitment to cultural and intellectual exchange on a global scale.
The books slated for restoration include Ibn Arjomand’s Al-Ajrumiyyah, three copies of the Holy Quran from 1257, 1402, and 1397, Abu Al-Fida’s book on human history summaries, Tarikh Al Mukhtasar Fi Akhbar Al Bashar; Al-Asfahani’s book of songs, Al Aghani; Al-Milal Wa Al-Nihal; and Kharidat Al-Ajaib Wa Faridat Al-Ghraib.
Through this initiative, Sharjah is making the first global contribution to the preservation of the rare and invaluable books and manuscripts at El Escorial Library that document Arab and Islamic history. His Highness visited the library in 2019, resulting in collaborations between the emirate and the library in various fields, including restoring and showcasing rare Arabic books to interested parties.
The restoration project coincides with the opening of “The Arabic Manuscript Collection of El Escorial” Exhibition at the Sharjah Book Authority (SBA).
The event, held in collaboration with El Escorial library, showcases 14 rare manuscripts from the 13th to 16th centuries and runs from 2-9 April. Sharjah is also the first city to host an exhibition of the largest collection of rare Arabic artifacts from the El Escorial Library outside of Spain.
Muslim conquest of the Iberian Peninsula left many influences, later taken to the continent by colonists
Some researchers believe 700-1,000 Portuguese words and about 4,000 in Spanish come from Arabic
In recent years, a new generation of researchers has been examining the ancient Islamic roots of Latin American societies.
In the age of social media, such content is being disseminated among larger audiences, and many people in Latin America seem to be avidly interested.
“I began to read about the Moors when I was studying Arabic in Egypt,” said Mansour Peixoto, a Muslim convert from the Brazilian city of Recife who in 2014 founded the website Historia Islamica (Islamic History).
“I’d already learnt at that time about the Islamic influence on Portugal, but then I became interested in its direct and indirect impacts on Brazilian culture,” he told Arab News.
Between 711 and 1492, Arab-Berber rulers dominated parts of present-day Portugal, Spain and France, naming the region Al-Andalus.
An almost-800-year presence in the Iberian Peninsula left many influences that were brought to colonial Latin America.
After the Christian re-conquest, Islam was forbidden in Spain and Portugal. From then on, especially at the beginning of the 17th century, many Muslims — including people of European ancestry — were forced to move to North Africa, but many accepted to convert to Catholicism, some of whom remained secretly Muslim.
“Those people, especially the poor, were numerous among the Portuguese who came to colonize Brazil since the 16th century,” said Peixoto.
FAST FACTS
Between 711-1492, Arab-Berber rulers dominated parts of Portugal, Spain and France, naming the region Al-Andalus.
After the Christian re-conquest of Al-Andalus, Islam was forbidden in Spain and Portugal.
Some researchers believe that 700-1,000 Portuguese words come from Arabic.
Although his website deals with several Islamic themes, the history of Muslim Portuguese settlers — known as Mouriscos, or Moors — and their influence on Brazil is a frequent topic. “Many people don’t realize that we have customs in Brazil that come from the Islamic world,” said Peixoto.
Historia Islamica’s publications about the influence of Arabic on the Portuguese language are among the most shared by the website’s followers.
Some researchers believe that 700-1,000 Portuguese words come from Arabic, but recent studies suggest that the number of Arabisms could be much higher.
Several everyday words in Brazil have Arabic origins, such as alface (lettuce), almofada (cushion), acougue (butcher shop) and garrafa (bottle).
“Not to mention architectural terms that we still use today, like alicerce (foundation) and andaime (scaffolding),” said Peixoto.
“Iberian building methods were mostly Arab in the 16th century, and they were brought to the Americas.”
Islamic architectural influence in Latin America is one of the most noticeable cultural traits of Al-Andalus in the region, according to Hernan Taboada, an expert on the subject and a professor at the National Autonomous University of Mexico.
“That can be seen in the architectural style in New Spain, the viceroyalty that extended from the south of the present-day US to Central America,” he told Arab News.
Along with the Viceroyalty of Peru, in South America, that region probably concentrated most of the Moorish settlers in colonial Latin America, Taboada said.
Colonial-era churches in Mexico, from Veracruz on the Atlantic coast to Oaxaca in the south, exhibit evident Moorish artistic traits.
“They’re especially visible in the elements of decoration in those churches,” Taboada said. “Many temples in Mexico undoubtedly have Moorish style, which doesn’t mean they were necessarily built by Moors. In general, such elements were assimilated in Spain and transposed to Latin America.”
The presence of Muslims in New Spain and elsewhere in the region is not easy to verify, given that it was a clandestine presence.
This may be why the subject was ignored in academia for so long, although classical works of Latin American history mentioned it in the 19th and 20th centuries.
“The study of the Moorish presence was mostly resumed by Muslims and people of Arab origin. Those works showed that they weren’t as few in Latin America as was once supposed,” Taboada said.
Although Islam was forbidden, the Moors — like the Jews — largely enjoyed tolerance in the New World, though the Inquisition did act against them at times, he added.
Historian Ricardo Elia, cultural director of the Islamic Center of the Republic of Argentina, has since the 1980s been one of the pioneers in the study of the Moorish presence in the region of La Plata River.
“I discovered that the gauchos (the term used in Argentina, Uruguay and southern Brazil for legendary horsemen) are nothing less than Moors,” he told Arab News.
There is an ancient controversy regarding the etymological origin of that term in Argentina. Some scholars say it comes from a Quechuan word, but Elia and other researchers say it comes from chauch, a term with Arabic origins that means something like indomitable.
“In Valencia, Spain, the word chaucho was used to designate horsemen and pastors,” Elia said, adding that most of the crews of the Spanish ships that explored the Americas since the 15th century were composed of Moors, and that the first person to catch sight of the Americas was Rodrigo de Triana, a Moor.
“They needed to leave Spain so they came to the Americas. And they were good sailors.”
Over the centuries, Moors intermarried with other ethnic groups such as the Guarani indigenous people, but their cultural impact in the region is felt to this day.
Elia said empanadas, Argentina’s most typical pastry, have Andalusian origins, as does dulce de leche (caramelized milk).
The linguistic influence on the Spanish language is unquestionable. Elia estimates that there are about 4,000 Arabisms, most of them adopted in Spain.
“But in Argentina and Uruguay, the Moors also impacted our way of pronouncing the words,” he said.
Over the years, Elia has taught classes in universities in Argentina and Chile about the Moorish presence in South America.
“Unfortunately, the community of Lebanese and Syrian descent in Argentina has never shown much interest in such themes. Non-Arab Argentinians have always been the most curious about that,” said Elia, who comes from a Lebanese family.
He added that more and more people now want to learn about the first Muslim settlers in Latin America.
“In Morocco, an academic conference dealing especially with that topic was organized in 2021,” he said.
Peixoto said many people are “willing to discover more about their ancestry and the many questions not answered about it,” which is why a new generation of scholars has been researching the Moors of Latin America.
He plans to conduct an academic study about the Moors in Brazil, publish books on that topic and offer online classes.
“Our elite (in Brazil) likes to see itself as European, but we’re a combination of indigenous peoples, Africans, Europeans, and also Moors,” he said.
Peixoto thinks Muslims and Arabs made a decisive contribution to the formation of the Brazilian people, not only with the settlers from Al-Andalus, but also with the Africans brought as slaves, and the huge wave of Syrian and Lebanese immigrants who came to Brazil since the end of the 19th century.
“They transformed our way of being on many levels,” he said.
Taboada agreed, saying: “Eurocentric views are dominant among the Latin American elite. We have to emphasize that we have a multicultural origin.”
The United Nations on Friday commemorated the first-ever International Day to Combat Islamophobia with a special event in the General Assembly Hall, where speakers upheld the need for concrete action in the face of rising hatred, discrimination and violence against Muslims.
The observation follows the unanimous adoption of an Assembly resolution last year that proclaimed 15 March as the International Day, calling for global dialogue that promotes tolerance, peace and respect for human rights and religious diversity.
As the UN Secretary-General stated, the nearly two billion Muslims worldwide – who come from all corners of the planet – “reflect humanity in all its magnificent diversity”. Yet, they often face bigotry and prejudice simply because of their faith.
Furthermore, Muslim women can also suffer “triple discrimination” because of their gender, ethnicity, and faith.
Islamophobia ‘epidemic’
The high-level event was co-convened by Pakistan, whose Foreign Minister, Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, underlined that Islam is a religion of peace, tolerance and pluralism.
Although Islamophobia is not new, he said it is “a sad reality of our times” that is only increasing and spreading.
“Since the tragedy of 9/11, animosity and institutional suspicion of Muslims and Islam across the world have only escalated to epidemic proportions. A narrative has been developed and peddled which associates Muslim communities and their religion with violence and danger,” said Mr. Zardari, who is also Chair of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) Council of Foreign Ministers.
“This Islamophobic narrative is not just confined to extremist, marginal propaganda, but regrettably has found acceptance by sections of mainstream media, academia, policymakers and state machinery,” he added.
Everyone has a role
The President of the UN General Assembly, Csaba Kőrösi, noted that Islamophobia is rooted in xenophobia, or the fear of strangers, which is reflected in discriminatory practices, travel bans, hate speech, bullying and targeting of other people.
“All of us carry a responsibility to challenge Islamophobia or any similar phenomenon, to call out injustice and condemn discrimination based on religion or belief – or the lack of them,” he added.
Mr. Kőrösi said education is key to learning why these phobias exist, and it can be “transformative” in changing how people understand each another.
“It is an inexorable part of the resurgence of ethno-nationalism, neo-Nazi white supremacist ideologies, and violence targeting vulnerable populations including Muslims, Jews, some minority Christian communities and others,” he said.
“Discrimination diminishes us all. And it is incumbent on all of us to stand up against it. We must never be bystanders to bigotry.”
Stressing that “we must strengthen our defenses”, Mr. Guterres highlighted UN measures such as a Plan of Action to Safeguard Religious Sites. He also called for ramping up political, cultural, and economic investments in social cohesion.
Curb online bigotry
“And we must confront bigotry wherever and whenever it rears its ugly head. This includes working to tackle the hate that spreads like wildfire across the internet,” he added.
To this end, the UN is working with governments, regulators, technology companies and the media “to set up guardrails, and enforce them.”
The Secretary-General also expressed gratitude to religious leaders across the world who have united to promote dialogue and interfaith harmony.
He described the 2019 declaration on ‘Human Fraternity for World Peace and Living Together’ – co-authored by His Holiness Pope Francis and His Eminence the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar Sheikh Ahmed El Tayeb – as “a model for compassion and human solidarity.”
James Abourezk, 1st Arab American US senator, dies at 92.
James Abourezk, attorney and Democratic politician who served as a United States senator and United States representative from South Dakota and co-founder of the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee(ADC), died today on his 92nd birthday.
He was born in Wood, South Dakota, the son of Lena (Mickel), a homemaker, and Charles Abourezk, an owner of two general stores. Both of his parents were Lebanese immigrants. He grew up near Wood on the Rosebud Reservation and has lived in South Dakota most of his life.
Abourezk represented South Dakota in the United States Senate from 1973 until 1979. He was the author of the Indian Child Welfare Act, passed by Congress in 1978 to try to preserve Indian families and tribal culture.
He was instrumental in the creation of both the American Indian Policy Review Commission and the Select Committee on Indian Affairs. He became chairman of the Indian Affairs Committee from its creation in 1977 to 1979.
Abourezk was elected in 1970 as a Democrat to the United States House of Representatives and served from 1971 to 1973. In 1972 he was elected to the U.S. Senate, where he served from 1973 to 1979.
Abourezk was an outspoken critic of Israel and U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East after touring the region and visiting his parents’ hometown in Lebanon as a senator. The position lost him many political allies, and he decided to retire from the Senate after a single term.
In 1980, Abourezk co-founded the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee and traveled throughout the U.S. organizing Arab Americans in the wake of the “Abscam” debacle. Abscam was an FBI sting operation where agents dressed up as “oil-rich sheiks” in the late 1970s and early 1980s that led to the convictions of seven members of the United States Congress, among others, for bribery and corruption.
Abourezk’s marriages to Mary Ann Houlton and Margaret Bethea ended in divorce. In 1991, he married Sanaa Dieb, a restaurateur. They moved to Sioux Falls where she opened an award-winning Arab restaurant.
Survivors include his wife; children Charles Abourezk, Nikki Pipe On Head, and Paul Abourezk from his marriage to Houlton; daughter Alya Abourezk from his third marriage; a stepdaughter; and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Warren David, president of Arab America and a former national president of the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee said, “during a time when discourse regarding the negative portrayal of Arabs and the injustice faced by Palestinians were scarce, he (Abourezk) acted as a pioneer who instilled a sense of immediacy in the Arab American community–he was a trailblazer in that regard.”
Trailblazing Jordanian-British research fellow reveals that her prescription for success requires dispensing – but only with tradition.
Most Damascene moments are dramatic by definition but few occur, as Atheer Awad’s did, on an actual road that leads to the Syrian capital.
Her own turning point came when the vehicle she was travelling in with her family to register for university in Amman blew a tyre, hit an electricity pole and flipped several times.
The accident meant that Awad ended up in hospital and missed the window to sign up to study medicine. By the time she was discharged, the only degree option still open to her was pharmacy.
Though bitterly disappointed at the time, she has come to believe that there were greater forces at work on the day of the crash on Jordan Street.
“Let’s just say we put our car to the test,” Awad tells The National. “It was a complete wreck. We are lucky to be alive.
“But it wasn’t meant to be that I should study medicine. I took the car accident as a sign that the future held better things for me.”
As a result, she was steered into an unexpected career in which the eventualresearch fellow at University College London would amass numerous accolades: the Journal of Clinical Medicine‘s 2021 PhD Thesis award; an appearance on the Forbes 30 Under 30 list for Europe; reaching the finals in the Women of the Future awards 2022 in the science category; named as an International Pharmaceutical Federation FIPWise Rising Star for 2022 as well as one of the top 15 outstanding innovators under the age of 35 by the MIT Technology Review.
Her groundbreaking research is paving the way towards the creation of personalised medication that can be 3D-printed in patients’ homes via smartphone — a potentially transformative innovation for those who find it hard to gain access to health care or don’t suit a one-size-fits-all service.
Born in Abu Dhabi and raised in Dubai by Jordanian parents, her hand was always first in the air in class when volunteers were sought to dissect animals at Al Mawakeb School in Garhoud.
It was an early display of Awad’s enthusiasm for the sciences, particularly biology, and a prelude to her ambition of becoming a heart surgeon.
“I was so determined to make a difference and medicine is one of those industries that has a greater impact when it comes to changing people’s lives,” she says.
“There is never a boring day with science because every day is a new learning experience.
“You come across things that you haven’t discovered before or create new stuff by just playing around with things in the lab and mixing them together. It’s that sort of curiosity that motivates me.”
Back then, holidays were regularly spent visiting Jordan — trips that Awad still makes annually to catch up with extended family, go to weddings and indulge a soft spot for the local food.
“I love those traditional connections,” she says, “and still follow as many of these practices as I can, wherever I am.
“My faith helps a lot. But it isn’t easy trying to keep a balance between sticking to faith and being able to live in a foreign country.”
Moving to England wasn’t as daunting as it might have been without the unwavering support of her parents and four older siblings — a pharmacist, a consultant with whom she lived until recently, an IT specialist and a doctor.
“It is rare for all of us to be in the same country at the same time,” she says, laughing. “We travel between the three countries and there is always at least one of us living in each of the three. That makes it interesting for my parents, who get to travel everywhere.”
Awad herself, now 29, is a keen traveller and has put on her bucket list the wish to visit every country in Europe before turning her sights to other continents.
She fell in love with Turkey after a trip to Cappadocia, the semi-arid central region known for its “fairy chimney” rock formations, and particularly enjoys explorations on foot.
London, however, holds a special place in her heart, where there is, she points out, a big Jordanian community.
“I have a lot of friends I consider my second family. They’re a mixture of scientists, people outside work, and others with Jordanian or Arab heritage. That keeps me connected to my roots and it is one of the beauties of London — it’s international.”
But she calls Dubai home and makes many happy returns to Living Legends, a newly developed 14 million-square-foot community on the outskirts of the city where her parents still live.
Part of the appeal of the emirate, it should be said, is the chance to hit the luxury shops. Dior and Prada are favourites — her handbag collection alone extends to “about 40 or 50 … I’ve lost count” — and the Swarovski-encrusted mobile phone she takes everywhere is a particularly prized purchase.
Invariably, though, one of the first stops is to fill up on luqaimat, known as awama in the Levant. She has sampled the sugary doughnuts wherever she finds them but maintains that the ones whipped up for as long as Awad can remember by her mum, Hanan Swais, “are the best”.
They were an abiding taste of a childhood in which the extroverted Awad, left to explore her own interests by her father, Jamal, an electronics retailer, and Hanan, a homemaker, played the piano exuberantly if not with any notable proficiency and went on Scouting expeditions.
There was never an expectation that she would follow in the footsteps of any of her siblings but the desire to pursue medicine was strong nonetheless.
“It wasn’t until we were discharged from hospital [after the car accident] that I realised I had missed the deadline,” she says. “There was no going back in time. I just thought: ‘What’s the next best option?’
“That’s why I always say I did not choose pharmacy — it chose me.”
Despite a reluctant start, Awad’s enthusiasm grew throughout a five-year degree at the private Applied Science University in Amman as she gained insight into the extent of what pharmacists could actually do.
“I started looking at pharmacy as having a bigger impact than I had previously thought,” she says.
“People sometimes look at pharmacists as if they are beneath or less important than doctors when, in fact, they do most of the work behind the scenes.”
Little by little, with the consolidation of hours of satisfying sessions spent researching in laboratories or learning about the differences in the properties of various drugs, it dawned on Awad that she had stumbled across her calling.
Which is not to say that she appreciated being treated as little more than a saleswoman while doing work experience in a community pharmacy during the degree course.
“People assume that the pharmacist just takes the prescription and gets the medication without doing anything else,” she says. “There is a misconception.”
The experience hardened Awad’s resolve to focus on research rather than the direct, community-facing side of the profession.
After graduation in 2015, she embarked on a master’s in pharmaceutics and drug design at UCL, where she learnt about 3D printing during an end-of-year project with her professor, Abdul Basit.
She was inspired to keep working with the Basit Research Group within the School of Pharmacy to undertake a doctorate specialising in using the drug-delivery technology in the manufacture of medicines.
“I’ve always been interested in technology so it grabbed my interest immediately,” says Awad, who is still a research fellow with the group.
Weekends when she is not working are spent dining with friends, indulging her obsession for Harry Potter — “I’ve watched all the films multiple times” — and baking. Coffee cake is her speciality and made a well-received appearance at her professor’s 50th birthday.
“I do like experimenting with baking and cooking. I think there are similarities between baking and science.”
She doesn’t rule out applying to appear on The Great British Bake Off television show but, for now, Awad’s ambitions are confined to the lab.
“I want to make a change,” she says. “I don’t want 3D printing to stay a theory. I want to see it being implemented and taken up by healthcare agencies.”
Most recently, Awad has been printing tablets with Braille and moon patterns on their surfaces for visually impaired patients, or changing their shape, size and colour so that children or those with limited capacity find them easier to take. She has also been researching how to combine several medications into a single pill.
One of her team’s successes has been in creating tablets that can be swallowed without water. Manufactured in partnership with pharmaceutical 3D-printing specialist FabRx by melting powder particles with a laser beam and using heat, the porous product dissolves on the tongue.
She talks about how 3D printing allows alterations of a fraction of a milligram, making medication much more tailored and precise than the standard variety available off the shelf.
“Every person is different and our bodies do not react the same,” Awad says. “The requirements when it comes to medication differ, and sometimes they differ within the same person, depending on the disease progression.
“We can also take patients’ preferences into consideration. That’s important when it comes to children or elderly patients. Often children refuse to take medicine because they don’t like the taste, the shape isn’t appealing or the pill might be too big.”
While 3D printing for customised pharmaceuticals has yet to be introduced commercially in the UK, Awad’s UCL team has managed to convert a smartphone into an on-demand 3D drug printer with an app that could be used in remote GP surgeries and even at home.
“We’re not far from the industry adopting 3D printing, probably in the next two to five years,” she says. “Approval will have to be on a medication-by-medication basis because each medicine could behave differently to the same technology, depending on its properties, and the 3D-printing technologies themselves differ.”
Awad’s passion for her work is tangible. The British-American analytics company Clarivate clearly thought so when last month listing her on its influential Highly Cited 2022. It was a remarkable achievement for such a young scientist to appear among fewer than 0.1 per cent of the world’s researchers across 21 fields.
Such recognition is welcome but, she says, the many “titles are more of an assurance that I am on the right track and that my work is important”.
“That’s the driving force to keep me moving forward and become even more ambitious to try new things,” she says.
One of her guiding principles is that researchers should be brave and adopt different approaches because even the most “ridiculous” ideas can be turned into brilliant inventions or innovations.
As she has been known to opine, not all scientific breakthroughs happen through planned research: “Sometimes, you come across things by accident.”
Given the route into her career in pharmaceuticals, it could be said that Awad started very much as she meant to continue.
Dr Bnar Talabani, who received award for combatting Covid-19 misinformation, says British monarch showed keen interest in her background.
A doctor who arrived in the UK as a child refugee from Iraq has received a top award from King Charles III for her prominent role in combatting Covid-19 misinformation throughout the pandemic.
Dr Bnar Talabani beamed as the monarch, 74, pinned the ribbon of the Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) on her dress during a ceremony at Windsor Castle on Thursday.
She said the monarch, 74, was “really interested” to hear about her background.
The immunology scientist shared photos of their meeting on social media.
“Investiture at Windsor Castle: I met His Majesty the King who was really interested in my background as a former refugee and was utterly delightful to talk to,” she wrote.
“Really special day celebrating with my wonderful family.”
The king could be seen shaking Dr Talabani’s hand and pinning a red ribbon on her dress, in the pictures.
As congratulations poured in for the outspoken doctor, she said she felt “really overwhelmed by everyone’s kind responses”.
Dr Talabani was born in 1988 in northern Iraq to a Kurdish family.
As a toddler, she left her homeland for Iran along with her mother and younger brother to escape Saddam Hussein’s regime. Her father and grandfather remained behind to fight against the dictator.
After making their way to Syria, the Talabanis were recognised as refugees and welcomed to the UK.
Dr Talabani went on to graduate from medical school and pursue a career as a kidney and transplant hospital doctor and immunology scientist at Cardiff University.
She also works as a guide for Team Halo, a global group of scientists and healthcare professionals working to dispel misinformation about the coronavirus.
During the height of the public health crisis she made a name for herself on TikTok.
Dr Talabani used her platform on social media to reach followers, many of them young people, to challenge false and inaccurate claims about Covid.
The 12th edition of the Luxor African Film Festival (LAFF) kicked off on Saturday in the great southern Egyptian city of Luxor with the attendance of dozens of celebrities, filmmakers and critics.
Running until 10 February, the LAFF will host screenings of over 50 films from 31 countries participating in its various competitions and parallel programs, as well as a number of talks and seminars.
During the opening, the festival’s organisers honoured Egyptian actors Mohamed Ramadan and Hala Sedky, Egyptian composer Hesham Nazih, Senegalese director Mansour Sora Wade, and Mozambican producer Pedro Pimenta.
A number of late artists were also celebrated, including Egyptian actor Salah Mansour, Algerian actress Chafia Boudraa, and Tunisian actor Hichem Rostom.
LAFF will pay tribute to Senegalese cinema and its filmmakers, as Senegal is the country guest of honour for this edition.
Under the helm of the LAFF founder, scriptwriter Sayed Fouad, the festival is hosting 10 cinema workshops in different disciplines.
Many prominent African filmmakers and actors are members of the various juries.
With 12 films competing, the long narrative and documentary film jury committee comprises Senegalese director Mansour Sora Wade, Tunisian director Sonia Chamkhi, Moroccan actress Amal Ayouch, Egyptian screenwriter Abdel-Rahim Kamal, and Egyptian producer Mohamed Hefzy.
The slogan of LAFF’s 12th edition is ‘Cinema is the Quest of Immortality’. This slogan is reflected in the festival’s poster design by Mahmoud Ismail Abou Al-Enin, which depicts boats sailing towards the sun and to the Nile’s West bank of Luxor, where funerary temples and tombs are filled with inscriptions representing ancient beliefs in eternal life after death.
With Filmmaker Azza Elhosseiny as LAFF’s co-founder and executive director, star Mahmoud Hemeida continues as the honorary president in this edition.
Since its founding, the festival has aimed “to spread awareness about the importance of cinema in Africa and the world.”
In its eleventh edition, the LAFF screened 45 films from 35 countries in the competitive segments.
The LAFF is organised by the Independent Shabab Foundation with the support of the Egyptian ministries of culture, tourism and antiquities. LAFF also takes place in cooperation with Luxor governorate, the Film Syndicate, and numerous sponsors.
“Tears in my eyes as I listen to the last broadcast by BBC Arabic, closing down after 85 years. It meant so much to so many people here over the decades,” tweeted British journalist Jim Muir, Middle East correspondent for the BBC News, “Now the airwaves are dead. End of an era.”
BBC’s Arabic radio service officially ended its decades-long broadcast on Friday, leaving behind a legacy that many believe to be everlasting.
The station launched in early 1938 as the BBC Empire Service’s first foreign language radio broadcast.
“BBC Arabic will always be a beautiful picture from the good old days; its professionalism a great education and its stars exceptional mentors and examples to follow,” journalist Eyad Abu Chakra told Arab News.
He added that the radio station was his father’s favorite. “Despite his reservations on some of its political coverage and views, he always admired its professionalism, informative program, and high caliber presenters,” he added.
“I grew up admiring several names, whom I was later honored to meet and befriend after settling in London in the fall of 1978,” Abu Chakra continued, “the Bush House canteen was one of my favorite meeting places in the late 1970s. It took me short walks from my Asharq Al-Awsat office in Gough Square and, later, High Holborn, to Bush House, where I enjoyed the hospitality of the BBC giants of the day.”
“To name just a few of my BBC dearest friends, departed and alive, there were the greats Musa Beshuti, Akram Saleh, Hassan Al Karmi, Nadim Nasser & Madiha AlMadfa’i, Majed Serhan, Huda Al-Rasheed and many others.”
Many journalists and public figures took to Twitter to express grief and share fond memories of BBC’s Arabic radio station. Some believed the event marked a decline in the United Kingdom’s soft power while others recalled their days at the studios.
“It’s far beyond sad and painful to see BBC Arabic radio shutting down today,” wrote Egypt-based BBC Arabic correspondent Sally Nabil on Twitter.
“It’s incredibly difficult to describe how we feel!” She added.
Amal Mudallali, former permanent representative of Lebanon to the UN, said: “As someone who worked for the BBC Arabic, I do not understand the decision.
“It is the only thing people know and remember about Britania, as we call it, in the region for generations.”
The final words and signature statement of BBC Arabic radio presenter Mahmoud Almossallami, “Huna London” (This is London), seems to have brought tears to many eyes.
Almousallami’s daughter, Osha, wrote: “I grew up listening to my dad presenting on BBC Arabic, and now here he is, presenting the final hour of BBC Arabic before it’s closed and taken off the air.
“It really is the end of an era.”
The head of David Nott Foundation, Elly Nott, wrote: “Huna London no more,” hailing BBC Arabic radio for helping her to learn its language.
BBC News Lead Technical Operator Jack Mooney shared a footage showing the last moments as the Arabic news network went off the air, while sound producer Tome Roles wrote: “I’ll always treasure the magic of sitting in a tiny studio at 3 am in London, picturing the sun rising thousands of miles away, and wondering about the lives of those tuning in.”
“It’s a painful moment,” wrote photographer Ali Al-Baroodi.
“BBC Arabic was one of few windows to the world in the time of the economic blockade (in the) 1990s (and) ISIS occupation,” he added, “Iraq was under (a) huge blackout. My father used to stock batteries for his radio in prep for the tough times.”
BBC correspondent Emir Nader shared the last two minutes of the Arabic radio’s final broadcast and wrote: “Today is a tragic day for Arab media… One of many huge losses following cuts in BBC World Service’s budget.”
Once a migrant worker in a Midwestern car parts factory, the Yemeni healthcare practitioner is now Hamtramck’s first Muslim mayor. His secret? Never giving up on his goals.
mer Ghalib’s third day in an American high school was very nearly his last when he was given consecutive zero grades for not doing the set homework.
With cheeks burning as the maths teacher berated him in front of the other pupils, a despondent Ghalib, then 18, resolved to quit.
Back home in Yemen, he had been top of the class but 10-hour night shifts on the production line of a Midwestern car parts factory left little enough time for sleep and lessons, never mind extra academic work.
“Everyone was looking at me,” Ghalib, now 43, tells The National. “It was embarrassing. I only went to high school to learn English. That was my goal.
“But the Egyptian maths teacher, Abdul Salam, started focusing on me. He must have thought I didn’t care about school so he picked on me.”
There seemed little point in continuing but then Mr Salam wrote a complicated algebraic problem on the blackboard as a challenge for his cohort.
Ghalib volunteered to have a go, rose from his seat, picked up the chalk and solved the problem without uttering a word.
“After class, the teacher said in Arabic: ‘You’re smart and you know your stuff, why don’t you do your homework?’
“When I told him there was no time because I had to work in a factory for $7 an hour, he said: ‘If you finish college, you can make $70 an hour.’
“That was the moment that changed my life because before that I had decided not to come to school any more.”
The intervention put him back on track to achieve his childhood ambition of holding public office, a dream fulfilled when he last year became the first Muslim mayor of Hamtramck in the Great Lakes region of Michigan.
On reflection, though, Ghalib concedes that the route to get there was circuitous with a lengthy diversion by way of the field of medicine.
Born in Yemen, his was an idyllic childhood in the village of Al Awd in Ibb province in the rugged mountains of the country’s south-west.
He excelled in maths and science at the tiny Al Islah school in the neighbouring village of Nashawan, where Egyptian, Syrian and Iraqi teachers doubled up on subjects for children of every age from elementary to high school in a handful of classrooms.
In his spare time, young Amer played football in local leagues, becoming an Argentina fan after watching Diego Maradona’s record-breaking five goals and five assists in the 1986 World Cup, and wrote poetry.
So it was apt when he was inaugurated as mayor a year ago that he quoted translated lines about determination and persistence by one of his favourite Yemeni poets, Abdulaziz Al Maqaleh.
“The poem was about never giving up,” he says. “Poetry makes me feel great because I can express my feelings about anything.
“Some people think it’s odd for a healthcare practitioner and politician to write poetry but it’s a way of expressing what’s inside. I still write.”
Career inspiration was to come in the form of his great-uncle, Dahan Najar, on whose every word Amer would hang as the family was regaled with tales of his travels to the then Soviet Union and work as a diplomat.
“They would call him doctor,” Ghalib says, “and I wanted to be just like him. He was my role model.
“He had completed a doctorate in political science in Russia and worked in government — so, at that young age of five or six, I decided I wanted to be a politician.”
Fate, however, seemed to have other plans. As the eldest of 10 siblings, Amer was expected to leave his village to work in the US and send money home.
The path was well-trodden by friends, neighbours and Ghalib antecedents, whose earnings were vital to keep the farming community thriving.
His father, Mahmoud, and grandfather, Ali, had by turns lived in Hamtramck for many years, where work was plentiful and migrant labour in demand.
“They needed me to come here and support the family,” he says, of dutifully taking a job in the American car industry. “I was very upset because I thought my future was over.”
And there, on the industrial floor of the MES corporation, he, too, might have toiled for decades before returning to settle in Yemen but for his overriding desire to make something more of himself.
Unlike those who went before him, Ghalib was to become representative of the modern-day immigrants who see their future as proud Yemeni-Americans.
He is quick to point out, though, that their lives nonetheless have a firm footing in tradition, saying they are not so much the “sandwich generation” of their western counterparts but more like the sabayahpastry. “We support multiple layers of relatives and neighbours,” Ghalib says.
Six months into his job on the factory floor, he applied to enrol on an adult evening class to learn English. The cousin with whom he was living at the time was accepted but Ghalib, deemed to be too young, was not.
On the advice of co-workers, who gave the erroneous assurance that homework was not compulsory, he registered to complete his final year of high school, attending classes from 7.30am until 2.30pm, then catching a lift to the factory with a colleague to work until 1am.
Mr Salam soon encouraged Ghalib to scale back his shift so he could spend two hours in the cafe doing his homework but the pupil often put in even more time afterwards to spare himself any further humiliation.
“That teacher was an inspiration. He told me not to waste my talent.”
His graduation on the school’s football pitch in the summer of 2000 was captured in photographs taken by his cousin that were sent to his father in Yemen.
One of the first people to be consulted about Ghalib’s next step was his revered great-uncle Dr Najar but the response was not what the young man had expected.
“He said: ‘Politics is not going to feed you. You are smart, you can do something professional that will help you survive.’
“So I decided to do medicine because my second favourite thing was science.”
With his English language skills still lacking, Ghalib struggled to obtain entry to medical school after completing a degree in biological science at Henry Ford Community College, transferring to Wayne State University in Michigan after two years.
He returned to Yemen in 2005 to marry Iman, now 36, then enrolled at Ross University School of Medicine in the Caribbean and went on to do two years of clinical rotations at Sinai Grace hospital in Detroit.
These days, as he awaits an opportunity for a residency, the father of three daughters – Mayasm, 15, Ansam, 13, and Balsam, three – juggles work as an assisting physician along with a master’s degree in nursing online in the hope of opening a medical practice.
“I’m a multi-tasker,” he says. “I never give up on anything. If I don’t accomplish my goal one way, I try another.”
Which explains why, when conservative community leaders felt aggrieved at the relaxing of marijuana licensing laws in Hamtramck, Ghalib saw not only an important issue to get behind but a political opportunity.
“The people who used to run in local elections were the same every time and never solved any of the city’s problems,” he says.
“They did not represent us well, especially the Muslim immigrants. The leaders did not listen to the people and we were looking for someone to take over. I said I could do it and serve the people.”
He won an astonishing 68 per cent of the vote — more than double that of the long-time incumbent Karen Majewski, bringing an end to the city’s string of Polish mayors for the past century.
“When I registered, some people were sceptical and said: ‘He will lose, no one knows him.’ But there are a lot of Yemenis here in Hamtramck and they knew me very well.
“They knew I would be a strong candidate and that, even though I didn’t have much experience of public office, I had the skills to succeed.”
It hasn’t all been plain sailing since. Ghalib faces a mountain of woes, including ageing infrastructure, a city council budget deficit and replacing poisonous lead pipes in homes.
But one of the biggest challenges has been trying to unite a city long in the media spotlight for its diversity.
A welcome sign at the border sums up its reputation for being the UN in microcosm: “The world in two square miles.”
Polish shopfronts now sit side by side Yemeni restaurants and Bangladeshi shops, flyers are printed in Arabic, and the adhanis heard on street corners as large numbers of Arabs and Asians continue to make Hamtramck their home.
While some have seen his appointment — and that of fellow Arab American mayors Bill Bazzi in nearby Dearborn Heights and Abdullah Hammoud in Dearborn — as a celebration of growing multiculturalism in the US, there has been a backlash from some quarters.
Critics have scoured posts on Ghalib’s social media platforms to accuse him of bigotry but his response has been: “We try to represent everyone and make them feel this is their home, no matter what religion or background they have. I try to serve people equally.”
His inauguration followed Hamtramck becoming the first US city with a Muslim-majority council in 2015. The councillors are now all Muslim, and, for Ghalib, the ceremony held at the school where he set out to alter his own destiny marked just how far both he and his adopted home had come.
As he looked out over the auditorium, he recalled his school careers adviser saying: “I don’t think you’ll have any future in politics in this country. You’ll always speak English with an accent and your background will not be in your favour.”
With a wry smile, he told the audience: “I still do speak with an accent — but I have decided to come back and embrace my first love, politics.”
Almost a year into the part-time municipal role and nine Fifa World Cups after Argentina last lifted the trophy, Ghalib watched the first half of the 2022 final last month with a local Bangladeshi crowd before moving to another lounge to join fellow Yemenis for the rest of the match.
All assembled were agreeably cheering for the mayor’s favourite side — except for three fans belatedly exposed as France supporters when the second equaliser was scored.
On his Facebook feed once the tense penalty shoot-out was over, he wrote that the win for Lionel Messi’s squad, “after a lot of trouble, is what makes the victory more sweet and deserved”.
Having overcome adversity to hit goal after goal, and making countless assists along the way, Ghalib knows exactly how that feels.