Issue 004 | Finding Ground

As someone from a SWANA background or a third-culture kid, the idea of “home” often feels elusive. It’s a concept that constantly shifts as the world around us either opposes or invites us in. And lately, the sense of displacement has felt more palpable, whether in the literal or metaphorical sense. The things we buy, the aesthetics we gravitate toward, and the environments we create all undergo transformation when our values are challenged, and when what remains is the community itself.

In moments like these, it’s easy to retreat into content corners that are familiar, light, and easy to consume. I wanted this issue of HABAYTAT to encourage us to pause and reflect. The focus isn’t on burdening ourselves with heaviness but on engaging with something intentional, thoughtful, and subtly comforting to our complex emotions. With this in mind, we featured the women behind the Montreal-based community HOUNA, SWANA-owned brands to support, and a curated list of books that explore notions of displacement, how it shapes identity, and what it means to find—or create—home, especially in the face of ever-changing worlds.

I hope this issue provides a meaningful addition to your week as you navigate your own spaces, wherever they may be.

Until next week,

Rand Al Hadethi

*For the best reading experience, read online on desktop.

• Minor Detail by Adania Shibli

This haunting novel is divided into two narratives, one set in 1948 during the Nakba and the other in modern-day Palestine. Shibli explores the erasure of history, violence, and trauma, reflecting on how displacement scars not only individuals but entire communities through the passage of time and memory.

• An Unlasting Home by Mai Al-Nakib

Al-Nakib’s novel follows Sara, a Kuwaiti woman who is facing the threat of execution under a new blasphemy law. The novel spans multiple generations across Lebanon, Iraq, India, the U.S., and Kuwait, highlighting the struggles and successes of three generations of Arab women

• No One Prayed Over Their Graves by Khaled Khalifa

Set in early 20th-century Syria, this novel explores the devastating impact of a flood that displaces an entire village. Through the lives of two friends, Khalifa reflects on loss, community, religious tensions, and the deep cultural transformations brought on by natural disasters and the forces of history.

• We Could Have Been Friends, My Father and I by Raja Shehadeh

Palestinian writer Raja Shehadeh reflects on his relationship with his father, a key figure in the fight for Palestinian rights. Through personal and political lenses, Shehadeh’s memoir explores the ongoing struggle for identity and belonging in the face of displacement and generational trauma.

• The Book of Disappearance by Ibtisam Azem

This speculative novel imagines the sudden disappearance of Palestinians in Israel, leaving Israelis to reckon with the void. Through this surreal concept, Azem masterfully explores the politics of displacement, memory, and identity, raising questions about existence and erasure.

• The Ungrateful Refugee by Dina Nayeri

Nayeri blends memoir and essay to explore her own experience as an Iranian refugee and the broader global refugee crisis. She challenges the expectations of “gratitude” imposed on displaced people, offering a nuanced and humanising portrait of exile, survival, and the search for belonging.

*Click on images to shop.

Co-founders Fatin Hawarri and Saria Chatila discuss their personal drive behind HOUNA, and the importance of community-driven spaces.

By Rand Al-Hadethi

The call to “find support in our communities” resurfaces every few years—often in response to political injustice affecting the SWANA (South West Asia and North Africa) region, whether within the diaspora or at home. For many in the SWANA community, navigating identity, displacement, and belonging is an ongoing challenge. Amidst this, HOUNA, a community-led initiative in Montreal founded by Fatin Hawarri and Saria Chatila, “uses art as a vessel for community education, wellbeing, and cultural connection virtually and in-person.” Born from a deep desire to uplift their community, HOUNA bridges the personal and the communal.

For Hawarri (Riyadh-born, with Palestinian roots) and Chatila (Montreal-born, of Lebanese descent), HOUNA is a response to the broader needs of the SWANA community. The name HOUNA, which translates to “here” in Arabic, is a reminder to embrace the present. For Chatila, being present was once a struggle. “For me, "being here" once meant I had to be fully connected to my senses—mind and body both rooted in the present. When they aligned, the anxieties of the past and future felt more manageable. But through self-work, I've redefined what the present moment means to me. Now, I see it as embracing the full complexity it brings,” she says. “It's natural for thoughts, anxieties, and past or current traumas to pull us away from being here in the now —how could they not? Instead of resisting those feelings, I meet them with awareness and without judgment.” This mindset reflects HOUNA’s mission: to create a space where the SWANA community can honour the past and future while staying grounded in the here and now without the pressure to educate or assimilate.

In September 2023, Hawarri, Chatila and their friend Zeina worked on a collaborative photo-series focusing on Palestinian women, capturing the stories of resilience, survival, and cultural pride. However, the urgency to formalise their efforts into something larger came in October as a response to the horrific escalation in Gaza. This urgency sparked Pictures for Palestine, a print fund featuring the work of 17 talented SWANA artists, including images from the photography series. “What started as a response to an immediate need slowly turned into a realisation that our community always needs us—and we need them,” shares Chatila.

As of now, HOUNA has hosted three thoughtfully curated events, each designed with care and intention. The first, held in July 2024, was a heartfelt afternoon of art and culture supporting Falasteen, featuring a curated selection of prints by SWANA photographers in collaboration with From The River to The Sea, an initiative dedicated to Palestine. 100% of profits from print sales and 20% of ticket sales were donated to Watermelon Relief, a grassroots organisation providing meals, support, and activities for displaced families. In August, HOUNA followed with Layl w’ Nhar (Day & Night), an intimate two-day cultural program in Toronto, with 20% of the event’s ticket sales were donated to Thamra Org - a Palestinian organisation fostering food sovereignty. Participants engaged in workshops and activities led by figures like Salma Serry from Sufra Archive—the largest SWANA culinary archival library, preserving historical Arabic cookbooks and ephemera. Their third event, in October 2024, was a drop-in gathering open to all, offering mental health support through 10-minute active listening sessions led by Lara Kojok, a PhD student in Counselling Psychology, with a focus on trauma and healing. Art prints by Arts for Palestine Montreal were also available, with proceeds going to support Lebanon.

These events showcase the thoughtfulness that Chatila and Hawarri bring to their work, curating programs that address the community’s pressing needs as they come with the weight of heavy emotions.

Both co-founders understand the complex emotions tied to living between cultures. Chatila, born in Montreal but spent much of her early life in Riyadh, describes how movement has always shaped her identity. “Living in the diaspora, I am actively engaged with my culture and heritage, whether through my artistic practice or community work,” she says. “I’ve realised that my culture thrives within me—it’s something I carry with me everywhere.” Hawarri echoes this sentiment, reflecting on how diaspora life has shaped her connection to her heritage.. “It’s given me a unique perspective on what it means to belong to multiple spaces at once while still feeling deeply connected to my Falasteeni roots,” she shares. Both co-founders feel the weight of living between two worlds; hence their commitment to curating spaces where the community can engage with one another and celebrate their culture despite the barriers and distances that try to deter them.

The experiences of displacement and cultural fragmentation resonate deeply within the broader SWANA diaspora, where many grapple with the complexities of being labelled an “immigrant.” For Hawarri and Chatila, the term reflects a journey marked by adaptation and resilience, yet it oversimplifies lives spent constantly negotiating space and belonging across different geographies. This sense of navigation extends into the very fabric of grassroots organisations like HOUNA, where the focus is on building community from the ground up rather than relying on institutions that often fail to understand the actual needs of marginalised groups. “The rise of grassroots communities holds a special place in my heart,” says Hawarri. “It reinforces my belief that true inclusivity arises from the ground up, driven by those most affected by social issues. In a time of growing distrust in larger institutions that often fail to deliver on their promises of inclusivity, we focus on collaborating with local artists and creators whose work inspires us. We also prioritise supporting organisations that align with our values by donating funds to initiatives we believe in.”

While HOUNA welcome allies and supporters from outside the community, both co-founders emphasise that curating a space that centres SWANA voices remains the priority. The work of building such spaces, however, is not without its emotional weight. For both founders, the process of fostering reconnection to SWANA heritage comes with the weight of historical trauma, collective grief, and the ongoing experiences of displacement and conflict that many in their community face. As Chatila explains, “We are living an ongoing trauma, so it’s important for me not to place pressure on myself if things feel like too much,” Chatila explains. “Houna is a space where the depth and complexity of our experiences is not shied away from—not in the slightest. The “work” we’re doing is essential. It is personally my life’s work. I want to be there for my community, because I need them as much as they need me. For me personally, being part of the diaspora comes with a responsibility. This includes honoring and preserving our cultural heritage, advocating for our community's needs, and fostering connections that bridge the gap between generations. While the grief and trauma can be difficult to balance, they also motivate me to continually show up.”

Hawarri, in agreement, adds, “In both our personal and collective journeys, especially for communities like ours, there is a strong cultural expectation to constantly push forward. For me, the act of pausing is about reclaiming space—to breathe, to remember why we’re doing the work we do in the first place.”

As HOUNA continues to grow, both co-founders are focused on expanding their reach while staying true to their mission. “What’s next for HOUNA is to dive deeper into the virtual space, expanding the ways we connect across borders while organising in-person events outside of Canada,” says Hawarri. With plans to hold gatherings in Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and beyond, the goal is to create spaces where SWANA communities worldwide can unite. But even as they look ahead, the urgency of now remains at the heart of their work. Chatila reflects, “If there’s anything we’ve learned, it’s that the present is all we have—and the need for these spaces is more urgent than ever.”

Newsletter Design: Desirée Barreto

Editorial Coordinator: Hajir Zaidan