the chocolate farmer

I am going to tell you about The Chocolate Farmer, a documentary made by director Rohan Fernando, an award-winning director and cinematographer, a Sri Lankan native and Canadian immigrant, and produced by Annette Clarke thanks to the beloved treasure, the National Film Board of Canada. It’s been circulating, sometimes jokingly, that the end of the […]


The absurdity of war, of a conflict without meaning, of barriers without meaning, of a wall. Seeing Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette’s film Inch’allah made me realize the point to which wars, conflicts, attacks, military invasions, are of no meaning to us, the people. To the people waging the wars, the army generals, the political officials, the presidents of states or of corporations manufacturing weapons, and the technology, software, networks, circuits and the fuel that support war, it is entirely lucrative. What is war? Is it between two fighting parties? Between two armies? Between two peoples? Between two governments? Two, or more? The wars we see today, are they between armies? Or is it an army on people? Or, an army versus so-called rebels or militants? It is unclear to me…


In a city, you see graffiti. Do you wonder where it’s from? Do you see it? Do you read it? Do you understand it? Do you see who did it? Is it pleasing to your eye? Does it make you love the city more? Do you relate to the expression on the wall, on the bridge, on the train? Graffiti ignites wars and turf disputes between the perceived and self-proclaimed owners of space and us. You want to draw on a wall, on the street, on a train, on an abandoned building, can you? Are you allowed? Who decides?


I listen to the three women around me in the bustle of Lafontaine park on the first evening of August. Each, in turn, shares their upbringing, their feeling about her Jewishness, stories from grandparents who survived World War II’s holocaust, their awakening and relationship to the word Zionism and to a place (or to a state) called Israel, and their comprehension of everything they have been told as 20-something-year-olds in Montreal.

job search

Where am I going with this? No one, in my assertive opinion, wants a job. I am 35 years old, living in North America and in touch with my social media side. I know what’s happening, who’s doing what and who’s fed up with industrialization’s stubborn vestiges. We are a generation ready for change. Forgive the cliché. It is true…

ftb promo sticker

I am Palestinian, Lebanese, Abu Dhabi-born, Montreal-raised, fluent in Arabic, English, French, Spanish, and sometimes Italian, and am a public relations activist who spurs initiatives from neighbourhood clean-ups to dialogue dates between Palestinian and Jewish Montrealers. In my constant search for excitement, I learn of Forget The Box’s call for writers! Intrigued, I invite founders Jason C. McLean and Chris Zacchia to meet. And meet we did on a stormy Monday evening at a McGill ghetto café…