Omaira Saleh Basultan

- I Became a Creative Writer -

I have become a writer who writes a story and also draws protagonists. Had anyone told me, before, that I would be doing this, I would not have believed it. Writing used to be the most difficult thing for me. This is a priceless opportunity for me and I thank God for this. I have become capable of writing smoothly and joyfully with no hardship. Now, I dream of writing novels, of becoming a writer whose tale is told by one generation after the other. I, now, can write my own story. I met friends who brought me from what I was drowning in. They helped me move on despite all the wars I lived. Yes, this war has taken my loved ones away, but one thing war cannot take away from me is my writing.

- My Friend’s Story -
A Short Story from An Interview

Manal used to live with her big family. She had a happy childhood and when she grew up, she graduated both high school and college and began to dream about traveling to Turkey.

One day, Manal was walking back home from work. She saw a little child with an exhausted face showing signs of life hardships and hunger. She hurried towards him and realized he is in need of money to buy food. She gave him what she had.

Afterwards, an older woman asked Manal for help to cross the street. The woman tossed a small paper in Manal’s hand and asked her to open it when she gets home.

Suddenly, the woman fell and stopped moving. Manal stayed with the woman until the ambulance car arrived. At the hospital, the woman passed away. After the funeral, Manal went home overwhelmed with exhaustion and sorrow. She found the paper she completely forgot about. The woman passed all what she owned to Manal.

Manal is very rich now. Her dream to travel became a reality. However, the older woman’s mystery still visits her thoughts from time to time.

Corresponding Thoughts to the Story Collection Titled “Blouza: The Blouse” by Reem Mohajed

The Blouse, The Escape and Theft. I want to write about “The Escape” because of the fear I felt when I read it. I felt as if I were the protagonist. I recalled the bombardment days. They bombarded and bombarded. We wanted to leave, but we couldn’t…

I thank God that we survived. The windows used to shake. This is how bad and near mortar shelling was. I used to be too scared. I thank God regardless.

- On 19 Days of Creative Writing -
Thoughts on the 19th Day of Creative Writing

The day I started this training was the best. This training means so much to me. After a long time of laziness, this training gave me will and energy. I did not use to be able to share my feelings with anyone. I, now, know how to do this. I am happy with myself.

I am grateful for what I did in these 19 days. It is unbelievable. We built characters. We met great women and the best teacher I have ever met, Sarah.

I always thank God for the blessings of free writing. It helped me create and learn more about my talent and myself.

I love the characters we created so much. They mean a lot to me. I feel that they are my family! My favorite part is when Sarah used to ask us: “Don’t you miss your characters?” I can forget anything but this question. I do not want to be apart from Folanya and Alaniya’s characters, nor my friends and Sarah.

These 19 days have changed my life.

Thoughts that Followed a Walk in the Neighborhood

On my way today, I saw a little girl playing with her younger brother. I was scared. What a car hit them while they were playing in the middle of the street? I saw 6 or 7 dogs. I was scared of the way they looked at me. I saw children playing on the swings at the park. When I was a child, I used to ask my mother to let go and play every time I saw a park.

I saw busses and recalled those days when we used to travel.

I saw a man with a big belly. I recalled my grandfather and his big belly. I used to, always, ask him: “How far, pregnant, are you grandpa?” he would, always, reply: “It is my fifth month”. Year after year and it was always the fifth.