Salam!

My father worked hard to the end. He never showed grief in spite of the daily torture. He hid his pain. He used to joke. I inherited his patience. It was my daughter’s seventh anniversary. I bought a cake and went back home. I was happy not to say very happy. Then, I thought my joy would not last long. My wife told me to stay with my son of two months and a half. They would celebrate the birthday anniversary with her relatives and neighbors at her father’s place. I heard them sing. I looked at my son sleeping. I thought of my father, who looked at me when I was a baby the same way. I had to let my tears drop. It was a painful feeling. When I see a man toil, I wonder if his family is grateful to him. On my way, I try not to walk on ants. After becoming a father, I learnt to say: ’I love you, forgive me’ I would love to see healthy and well-educated children all over the world. Whenever I ate a meal, I thought of those, who have nothing to eat in a world where the rich waste food while others starve. When my daughter was born, I decided to publish my first book ‘An Unexpected Intruder’ in 2009, a novel in Spanish, my first foreign language, which I learnt by myself. As I met people from all over the world in my work place, I had the idea to write in four different languages to reach a larger audience. In the beginning, I learnt French painfully. At the faculty of letters, I was disappointed. I had to leave university without remorse. Since then, I have learned Spanish and English. In 2010, I published ‘Salam’, in 2013 ‘Omnia’, in 2015 ‘120’, in 2016 ‘Nadima’, in 2017 ‘What’s up?’, in 2018 ‘Sad sauce’, in 2020, two e-books ‘La Profumeuse’ and ‘Farewell List’, stories in Arabic, English, Spanish and French. As a writer, I wish to leave a sincere and clear message before passing away. In fact, I never stopped reading and writing in order to publish my books. Self-publishing is an expensive adventure. Writing in four different languages is a hard task. However, the will to publish my writings challenged all the obstacles. I thank all of you who encourage me to continue. I could not do it without your help. Those, who try to humiliate me, inflame my wish to succeed. I do it all with love. I do not pretend to be a dedicated artist, nor a persevering writer. I am a simple and humble man, a slave of our times. I love peace like you all and I think one can find it in a good book.

My father worked hard to the end. He never showed grief in spite of the daily torture. He hid his pain. He used to joke. I inherited his patience. It was my daughter’s seventh anniversary. I bought a cake and went back home. I was happy not to say very happy. Then, I thought my…