The First Visit

I still remember my first visit to Manshiyat Naser.

I went without knowing what to expect. What I saw, and what I felt, stayed with me in a way I couldn’t shake.

What struck me most was not the poverty itself, but the clarity of something deeper: that so much of what shapes a life comes down to circumstance. That somewhere in this place were women and children with the same capacity, intelligence, creativity, and love as anyone else—carrying it all while worrying about safety, food, and tomorrow.

I left knowing that nothing I built, created, or achieved would feel meaningful unless it was somehow in service of others. I didn’t yet know how that would take shape. I only knew that the feeling wouldn’t leave me.

This journal begins there—with a moment that didn’t offer answers, but quietly changed the direction of everything that followed.