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Nuha Dadesh: College Life in Libya




       Libya’s education system is as tumultuous as its contemporary turmoil. The numerous alterations that take place in schools and universities are negatively impacting its most impudently unappreciated and underestimated troops; its enthusiastic students.

     Following my excessive contemplation on what to study in college, I decided that the Pharmacy faculty was my optimal option, and so I registered (online). Days later, rumors dispersed about entry exams being set up for many departments in the University of Tripoli. That only made sense hence the leakage of the questions with their solutions of the finals during senior year of high school.

     I anxiously sat down on the wooden bleachers wondering if I’ll be privileged enough to pass the imminent entry exam and start my college career in what appeared to be a beautiful campus. “I know all of you are thinking about the exam,” empathized a staff member. “But you should know that there won’t be an entry exam for pharmacy students! There will be a personal interview with each of you so that we’ll get to know you individually,” he proclaimed. A breath of relief was shared in the auditorium. They informed us that whoever got interviewed can consider him/her self accepted into the Pre-Pharmacy program.

      My lectures initiated on a gorgeous November day. I distinguished my name on a paper that was taped to a wall under the title “Group D”. I, along with two other girls who were apparently in my group, submissively followed a teacher who guided us to the room where our lectures would carry out for the rest of the semester. An astonishing first lecture, Arabic, yielded anticipation for the upcoming classes; the lecturer spoke in an appealing tone and explained thoroughly and explicitly. Moreover, I appreciated the manner in which he incorporated Islamic teachings and verses from the Quran in every lesson as to expand our knowledge of our religion and therefore augment our faith.

     Typically, I adjusted to the routinely schedule. I would find myself dozing off during Botany lectures. Skipping the English classes became the norm since I couldn’t tolerate sitting through two hours of English grammar basics, and the teacher kept insisting, “If you want to get out, you can! I don’t give marks for attendance.” A cup of Nescafe on Tuesday mornings was essential so that I could concentrate during the preceding Zoology lecture and the instantaneous Physics lecture after. Statistics was only bearable because the teacher was a math genius and explained the subjects splendidly. Finally, Chemistry rendered a conciliatory ending to the week. On Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, I usually reviewed the topics of the week and/or procrastinated.

     I, fortunately, befriended a group of conscientious ladies. We became accustomed to heading down to the shop to buy the “Sheets” for whatever lecture we had that day to stay on track and not lag behind. What was a hindrance to my fellow classmates to me was an auspicious advantage; most of the subjects were in English! Furthermore, the comfortable benches were a stress reliever due to the lovely view they rendered. However, as the temperatures decreased, my favorite studying spot became the “Montada.” Which is a reserved studying area for the students of the faculty; it’s ironically loud, nonetheless I still had some of my best studying sessions there.

     In addition, I adapted to the idiosyncrasies of my faculty. Palpably, the gals outnumbered the young men within the Pharmacy department, which meant that less tobacco was smoked in there than the other faculties. Visits to the neighboring department, Medicine, were mandatory by reason of a lacking cafeteria. Succinctly, walking through its corridors bestowed a zealous feeling of persistence.

     A false illusion of the reeling exhaustion that would ensue until the day of my last final was given by pictures of the apparent ideal testing hall I saw online early on in the semester! To vanquish my anxiousness, I perpetually recited prayers to God; the boon to my achievements.

     Moreover, with each passing day, as I waited through a red light in the agitating traffic, my troubles were belittled when I saw a Syrian child with an aloof look in his eyes selling napkin boxes to drivers. Rage and pity forth came, especially because of the insentient policemen nearby the flagrant child labor who couldn’t even feign sympathy for that oppressed, tenuous boy. I still feel guilty that I’ve done absolutely nothing but provide him with hopeful glances as to aid him out of his tragedy. The advent of the green lights almost always caused a pandemonium.

     “Rely on Allah and start your tests” evoked a slight euphoria out of me every time.

     Describing those four months as challenging would only be an understatement. In addition, as if to enhance to the injustice that my contemporaries and I were bombarded by, the English teacher insanely made us memorize over 150 medical words and their definitions word for word in an insufficient amount time. I astutely memorized as much as I could knowingly that that would cause more benefit than harm. After all, that was my way of expressing gratefulness towards a free education. However, I had what I would like to call a mini heart attack when I saw that I received an 87% for English class, when I damn well knew that I DEFINETLY did way better than that! Furthermore, I left it all to God to take care of for me like He always does.

     Particularly because my class was the first to finish the Pre-Pharmacy program in only a semester instead of the typical year term, it was a semester like no other for all who participated.  I hope to achieve something grand out of this privileging experience I’ve been blessed with. Concisely, all praise is to Allah! 

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Nuha Dadesh: A Libyan in Libya’s standpoint!

A tragedy? A misery? A perpetual tale of horror? I honestly don't know what I should      call life in Libya! And a desperate cry from my soul apathetically shouts from within, "does it really matter what you should call it?" 
     Because, do I, a Libyan in Libya, really matter to the rest of the world? And that surges feelings of betrayal and envy which build up a hostility for the rest of the world! But, what does that even mean?-"The rest of the world"? Aren't we all the rest of the world to someone? 
     When the revolution was claimed a victory, the supporters were ready to tolerate whatever subsequent consequence. However, humans can only tolerate so much pain and despair before crashing down. People started taking sides. It's not black and white anymore; it's the whole spectrum now!       It's the countless and seemingly never ending misfortunes that we as Libyans, as humans, suffer on an hourly basis that plagued our land with fatigu…

رواد رضوان: أين المفر؟

أحياناً نمر بتلك الايام التي نحتاج فيها للحديث عن "ضيقة الصدر"، وهذه التدوينة عبارة عن "تنفيس" لا أكثر ولا أقل، لا أتوقع أن يقرأها أحد ولا أدعي أن هناك من قد يسيفيد منها، ما هذه إلا فضفضة عن النفس خلال اواخر ساعات العمل الأخيرة من هذا اليوم. 
عزيزي feel free to leave
ضاقت بنا الدنيا فإلى أين المفر..  في بلادنا لا نجد الفرص، نسافر الدنيا بحثاً عنها، فنجدها، ولكن لا نطالها 
لماذا؟؟
لأنك عزيزي في أعينهم خطر.. أي خطر؟ تتسأل... كلانا لا يدري ...  تجد فرصتك ولكن تاتيك الأخبار "عفوا عزيزي لقد تم رفض وجودك هنا"  ..كأنهم يقولون "أنت خطر"  ةلكن بكلمات جميلة 
ما علينا ..
ولكن أين المفر 
إلى بلاد اللا فرص  أم إلى ذل الغربة 
قد لا تفهم المقصود مما ذكرت.... لا تحزن ... فأنت لا تعيش حيث أعيش 

Rawad Radwan: Best of #LibyansAgainstSlavery

A couple of days CNN published an undercover video shows a slave auction in Libya, it was so sad to see this happening in my beautiful country by a group of criminals. I was speechless, I couldn't process what i saw. 

few hours from the release of the video, Libyans on Twitter started #LibyansAgainstSlavery to express their sympathy with the victims of slavery, others expressed their opinions on what we can do to fight this, while other apologized to the world, so here's the best of it:


#LibyansAgainstSlavery
I am Libyan, I work for IOM, me and my colleagues are working hard in daily bases to provide all kind of help & assistance to migrants who are struggling in detention centers all over Libya, the ones who work in slavery trade are the minority here not us. — مـــ ع ـــاذ ⵎⵓⵄⴰⴷ ⵣ (@M_Abouzamazem) November 18, 2017

We have an issue with #racism in #Libya and it's the time we fix it by firstly outlawing the use of the racist word (3***) atleast socially that should be o…