Home is Where the Heart is: From Cairo to Beirut, Letters to the Cities we Love

Jeddah-born and raised, Marriam has managed to establish her own name when she founded “Niche Arabia” in 2011, she unapologetically became the leading voice in Saudi Arabia’s luxury consultancy in the fashion industry.

Dear Grandmother, Grandma, Situ; JEDDAH, Since I only do voice notes, and you only written emails, it’s been longer than usual. But I wanted to write to you to thank you for always being there – the only constant in my nomadic life, the wholesome retreat for me and my siblings come every summer.

And while you are changing with the seasons, you remain the matriarch of all other cities; the first capital of our Kingdom. A silk route of hidden treasures from around the world, you smell of frankincense and mirth, and house the home of Islam within your warm reach.

Your wisdom is as complex as the ornate roshan windows that decorate Al Balad. You’re a fertile oasis; a humid juxtaposition to the barren sands of the East, yet you never make anyone feel less than for it. You gave birth to my parents and the Hejazi style – a melting pot of cultures wrapped in beautifully dyed Shalky fabrics. Much like the waves of your beloved Red Sea, you bleed creativity of an unseen world not yet tainted by the outside.

Regardless of what changes are happening within the Kingdom, you remain the womb of our Bedouin culture and will never be replaced regardless of how modernity tries to transform you. You are set in your traditions and that is why we all love you so much.

With all my absolute adoration… your granddaughter.

 – Marriam

Dubai-based writer, storyteller, and avid traveler, Roudha, finds words to be very magical. Her love for writing about culture and life is very inspirational. Her current goal is to bring more talent to the industry to promote acceptance and cultural exchange.

Dear Dubai,

You know, when I think about it, we are so much alike yet so different. I grew up believing that there is no limit to my sky. I didn’t know that you were the sky. You have created your own universe and became the most magical, beautiful thing I have ever seen.

So many souls have wandered and you led them to you like a magnet; drawn in like sailors who were lost at sea for too long, getting their first glimpse of land. There’s nothing that can stop me from loving your twists and turns, your highs and lows, and all the waves that crash on your shores. No matter where I go, I leave my heart with you because you are made of everyone’s dreams. You are the story of a nostalgic feeling of home. What makes you special is that feeling when I come back to you – and an even better one when I remember I belong to you.

My city, Dubai, I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be born. The place I call home and the stories I have collected in your streets and alleys – the backdrop of my first bicycle ride, where I imagined I was flying to the moon. My Dubai, I didn’t know you were shooting for Mars.

I have seen you grow; one of the lucky ones to witness your enormous transformation. Back when neighbourhoods had 4×8 metre grocery shops, we were in heaven shopping with friends for chewing gum and ice cream. We never imagined that so many would make you a dream destination to tick off their bucket list. But here we are, and here you are, my beloved city. Making magic happen and being part of us all. Because as much as we belong to you, you belong to us too.

I love you forever.

– Roudha

Cairo-based writer and ex-Scoopie, Noutchka, is a passionate writer and go-getter and her love for Cairo is pure and infinite!

Mother of this world,

I look at you from the hidden hollows, fearing the awakening of those who have peacefully slept for the past 7,000 years under your scars, now cracks in the pavement of the place we call home.

We can’t help but smile as we walk past quaint little shops, with their intricate etchings on the wall a kind of architecture you cannot find anywhere else in the world. It captures all that Om El Donia has seen through the years, its history seeping through the walls and the streets. We walk past the Yacoubian building, a symbol of the elite core, and down the Franco-Italian architecture on Hoda Shaarawy Street, majestically portraying what is left of this refined era. We can’t help but be in awe of your diversity, of how beauty is everywhere but not everyone can see it. You make us smile so effortlessly because you withstood the test of time, never complaining once.

I lead you to a room that remains cool in the hot summer sun. We soak up the sight of the old buildings, our footsteps echoing. I buy you a khamsa from the silver shop, one that would protect you every time I forget to hold your hand. I take you to Café Riche, declaring my love for you whilst a furry friend greets us. Its fur is dull and unwashed, but we can tell it needs our affection, even for a little while.

I take you on a Feluka during sunset, where heads sway, garments flutter and veils hide features, yet showing flashing eyes beyond. We admire the blues and oranges of the sky battling the greyness, pushing it away with arms, shining its depths on the Nile. I stay close to you, listening to the lyrics that are my soul’s sweet vibrations. I could sing these poetic words of Abdel Halim Hafez forever.

Onward to the underground scene, where live bands shatter the night like a hammer on delicate glass. It’s past midnight now and darkness comes. We leave the bustle of the city and the only thing that lights the valleys of the Sakkara desert is the silver moon high in the sky, making the sand look like endless seas.

Even past midnight, the city is still awake, reminding us there’s a place for anyone and anything. The doors never close and the lights blink on, telling us we are never really alone. Home of the Nile; the entire world in my soul.

– Noutchka

WE SAID THIS: What would you write to your city?