Ali Sbeity painted vibrant portraits and landscapes of his rural hometown in Southern Lebanon, often sharing his works on his Facebook. He participated in numerous local arts exhibitions and created murals for schools in Beirut.
Two hundred and fifty-six Quran memorisers—Palestinians who have committed the entire holy book to memory—sat in the place while companions beside them listened attentively, following each word carefully to ensure the recitation remained flawless. The gathering, titled Safwat Al-Huffaz—The Elite of Quran Memorisers, has become a special collective way of observing Ramadan in Gaza.
Textiles are a window into the communities that created them, with every motif and line signalling a different memory, tradition or identity. Often seen as folk art, these pieces of embroidery and weaving bring together dozens of narrative threads, from Japan to South America. But nowhere is it more fraught with meaning than in Palestine.
Imagine the pressure. You want to compete at your best, but then before even the game starts you have to decide how you're going to stand, how you're going to look and what you're going to do. I just think that's so unfair. The players were confused about what to do. If they salute and sing the national anthem, they are embraced and endeared by the government. If they do that, the fans, the Iranian people hate them.
This targeting success surely owes much to advanced electronic surveillance and deep cyber penetration of Iran's weapons systems and infrastructure. But in this war, as in the 12-day war last year, Israel and the United States are obviously benefiting from intelligence from some Iranians themselves, who are willing to risk their lives to help bring down the Islamic Republic.
There is a scene in "Morgenkreis | Morning Circle" (2025), a 16-mm film by Berlin-based Palestinian artist Basma al-Sharif, that unfolds at the threshold of a daycare center. A young boy clings to his father, his fists locked into the fabric of his coat, his arms wrapped tightly around him. The father gently tries to pry himself free while a daycare worker crouches nearby, attempting to distract the child and coax him inside. It is an ordinary moment, one that anyone who has ever been a child - or cared for one - recognizes instantly, as well as the gut-wrenching feeling it provokes.
Amera is one of more than 6,000 Yazidi women and children kidnapped and enslaved by IS. More than a decade after IS began their genocidal campaign against the Yazidis—killing and displacing thousands of the religious minority—she is fighting for the estimated more than 2,700 still missing.
The moving story of a Tunisian man who refuses to let cancer define his mother's life and turns her treatment into a celebration of love, joy and resilience. When Tunisian TV host Hassen becomes a full-time caregiver for his mother Saliha, dying of lung cancer, their home and hospital visits become the backdrop for an intimate family love story. This observational documentary follows them through birthday celebrations, 4am medication, difficult medical consultations and quiet, emotional moments together.
I was nine years old, and I felt like I lost that childhood. I felt like I became a kid when I looked at a TV this morning. Burn that image into your mind, his mother told him, knowing the city would never be the same. It was 2003, and mere days later, the United States and its allies would launch their invasion of Iraq, raining airstrikes down on the city.
Director of Al Jazeera Digital News Jamal Elshayyal speaks to The Take on leading Al Jazeera's next era of journalism. At Web Summit Qatar, we hear from Jamal Elshayyal, Al Jazeera's new Director of Digital News Content, on forging his own path at the network and how those lessons will guide Al Jazeera through the AI age. In this episode: Jamal Elshayyal (@jamalelshayyal), Director, Al Jazeera Digital News Content Global Episode credits:
Yiyun Li reads her story 'Calm Sea and Hard Faring,' from the March 9, 2026, issue of the magazine. Li is the author of eight books of fiction, including the novels 'Must I Go' and 'The Book of Goose,' and the story collection 'Wednesday's Child,' which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in 2024.
Twenty-one-year-old Moez al Shreiti was given up by his Tunisian mother at birth but is absolutely determined to find out where he comes from. His search takes him on a roller-coaster journey to find answers to the question that's dominated his young life. This observational film follows his sometimes painful search with all its obstacles, going to courts and hospitals and trying to get hold of official records.
"The show is about giving the pen back to the writer, giving the paintbrush back to the artist, during this time of genocide," the Ridikkuluz told Hyperallergic in an interview at the gallery. "And when there's been so much censorship, these are artists that might not have been able to do this anywhere else."
The first books I became obsessed with were Enid Blyton's boarding school stories Malory Towers and St Clare's. When I was eight, I'd hide them under my pillow and read by the hallway light when I was supposed to be asleep. My favourite book growing up Roald Dahl's Matilda. I felt woefully misunderstood by the world and longed to be adopted by a very pretty teacher with only cardboard for furniture. I spent a lot of time trying to make a pen move by concentration alone. Sometimes I still try.
Liadan Ní Chuinn was born in Northern Ireland in 1998, the year the Good Friday Agreement ended the Troubles, the decades of violence stemming from England's occupation of Ireland. Other recent fiction about the Troubles-the novels and Trespasses , the TV show Derry Girls (all excellent)-is set firmly in the last century, relegating the violence to history. Ní Chuinn's work does the opposite: Their new book of short stories, Every One Still Her e, is set in contemporary Northern Ireland.
The poem itself is an allegory: a gathering of birds set out on a spiritual quest, each one embodying a particular human flaw or attachment. Passing through seven symbolic valleys, they face trials and moments of revelation, before realising that the divine presence they seek lies within themselves. That sense of pilgrimage carries into the gallery. You are invited to take your own quiet journey through a wide range of avian-themed artworks inspired by the poem, each offering a different response to its ideas.
Because, let's face it, creative work does require some form of faith. It is a tumultuous thing to launch an idea into a vast nothingness and hope that it makes a light bright enough to be found by others. Luckily, these luminaries were my light, and I hope they may become yours as well, and - more so - that these snippets lead you to more of their work.