Naya in the traditional costume of my father’s people—the Adige—as we call ourselves or Circassians as we have come to be known. A gift from my auntie Ghada & cousin Tareq on a trip to the Caucasus. Here is a brief pause between the indignant screams of outrage for not running free and nude.

Naya is soulful when we go to the beach. Always voracious in her explorations and hunger, it is only in these moments that something overcomes her and she is almost solemn in her wonder. She loves clasping on to her father during these moments.

Naya, her father and myself go for a walk in Sataf, near the beautiful remnants of a once Palestinian village of ‘48.

"Naya’s political commentary on the so called Arab Spring"
Meet Naya. I was pregnant with my beautiful daughter at the start of the Tunisian and following Egyptian revolutions. I carried my first child in my belly even as I hungered to go and cover the revolutions first hand as a photographer. But something inside of me knew to keep  her safe, knew that someone very special was coming to this world.

"Naya’s political commentary on the so called Arab Spring"

Meet Naya. I was pregnant with my beautiful daughter at the start of the Tunisian and following Egyptian revolutions. I carried my first child in my belly even as I hungered to go and cover the revolutions first hand as a photographer. But something inside of me knew to keep  her safe, knew that someone very special was coming to this world.