I’ve always loved to write. Whether it’s my Chronicles book series or my daily reflections on LinkedIn, writing has been my way of making sense of the world—and sometimes, my way of fighting it. I believe self-expression is a weapon, especially in today’s social-media-dominated life, where silence can make you invisible and words can become power.

But the stories I write are not just about workplace chaos & leadership perks. They’re about building something real. Every day, as CEO of Abjjad, I live at the intersection of business, culture, and technology. Abjjad an amazing company that believes it can make Arabic literature accessible to everyone, everywhere. Today, it’s evolving into the Netflix of Arabic books, offering both e-books and audiobooks under one subscription.

It hasn’t been easy. Scaling a digital platform for 400 million Arabic speakers means innovating constantly—digitizing hundreds of books a month, pioneering audio production, and fighting piracy by giving publishers a legitimate way to monetize their content. But when I see readers from Cairo to California discovering Arabic stories at their fingertips, I know we’re building something bigger than a business—we’re building cultural access.

When Leadership Bites
I grew up as daddy’s little girl—the world felt limitless, wide open, mine for the taking. Then I walked into the business world, and reality hit me fast. It bites the weak. It bites the incompetent. And it never spares those who hesitate.

I knew I wanted a chair in the boardroom, and I fought for it—by pushing myself harder, learning relentlessly, and absorbing everything around me. But here’s the plot twist: getting the chair didn’t make things easier. It made things harder! 

Women are still the fewest in the room. When we speak, our words are too often reframed as emotional or aggressive. Pay equity is relative. Expertise is tested over and over again. Even allies sometimes falter.

That’s when I learned that leadership for women isn’t just about getting in the room. It’s about staying in the room—and making sure your voice, and the voices of those who come after you, are heard. 

Work-Life Harmony, Not Balance 
People often ask me about work-life balance. Honestly, I don’t believe in it—it’s just not my cup of tea. Balance implies that you leave something behind in order to carry something else, as if work and life were enemies locked on opposite sides of a scale.

For me, it’s harmony. I am a CEO, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a mentor, a student, and sometimes even a teacher. These are not separate identities—they are all me. They represent what I stand for and the values I carry. And I cannot let go of any of them.

So I’ve made peace with juggling all the balls, knowing that harmony doesn’t mean perfection—it means orchestration. At times, one role takes priority, and at other times, another does. But the beauty of harmony is that nothing is permanently abandoned. Everything has a place in the rhythm of my life.

This is why I reject balance and embrace harmony. Balance asks you to trade one thing for another. Harmony lets you keep it all, even if sometimes imperfectly.

Why Women Leaders Matter 
The truth is not that women can lead. It’s that societies cannot afford for women not to lead. At Abjjad, I’ve seen firsthand how women drive innovation. Women in my team push forward new publishing models, lead acquisition strategies, and reimagine how Arabic content is consumed in the digital age.

We bring empathy, resilience, and perspective that fuel creativity and performance. But this won’t happen by chance—it needs allies, systems, and structures that allow women to thrive without constantly having to defend their right to be at the table.

My Message to Women 
If you’re a woman dreaming of leadership, here’s what I’ll tell you: leadership won’t hand you anything. You’ll be tested, doubted, and labeled more than your male peers. But don’t shrink. Take up space. Ask for the chair.
Write your story loudly.

Because when you rise, you don’t rise alone—you rise for every woman watching, hoping, and daring to imagine what’s possible. You pave a better way for your daughter, your sister, your colleague. You become part of a chain that makes it just a little easier for the next woman to take her place.