Yousef, an 18-year-old Palestinian, struggles mentally between two worlds: the recent memories and agonies of his homeland, Gaza, and the challenges of starting a new life in the suburbs of Cairo.
He turned eighteen just days before escaping Gaza with his family (Monday, February 27, 2024), carrying with him only one wish: a ceasefire. Now, he lives in a small apartment near his university in Giza Governorate, while his family and close relatives stay together in an apartment in Cairo. For the first time, Yousef is away from his family on a daily basis, trying to adjust to a new home he doesn’t yet feel connected to.
In Gaza, Yousef’s home was bombed. His grandparents’ home was bombed. The house where he had taken refuge in Rafah was bombed. His sports center, his favorite seaside hangout, and his favorite café were all destroyed.
Now in Cairo, Yousef carries many layers of stress: academic pressure, difficulty with Egyptian Arabic, racism, financial insecurity, and a profound sense of displacement. Egypt is the only place he has ever been outside of Gaza and it is where he has received the most painful news of his life.
A few weeks after arriving in Cairo, Yousef lost his best friend, Ali. He first learned of Ali’s death through the media. “I cry for my friend when I am alone”, he says. He speaks daily – when the connection allows – with his friends who remain in Gaza. He carries guilt for being safe in Egypt and says he would prefer to return, despite knowing the risks. Ηe speaks constantly about Gaza and he scrolls through social media, watching videos of death and destruction in his homeland. According to UNICEF (Nay 2025), more than 50.000 children have been killed or injured in the Gaza Strip since October 7, 2023.
I first met Yousef when he was 14, during an online photography workshop for teenagers in Gaza – commissioned in August 2020 by the foundation Education Above All, Qatar. Back then, he discovered a passion for photography, and some of the images he created are now part of the collages in this series. We stayed in contact throughout the crisis, and I held a quiet hope that we might one day meet in person. That moment finally came when he arrived safely in Cairo. Creating together and finding a way to share his story has helped me better understand the emotional landscape and mental state of a teenager navigating trauma and grief. It also raised a haunting and urgent question: how will teenagers like Yousef – who have witnessed and survived tremendous violence – find the strength and mental clarity to rebuild their lives and imagine a future?
The collaborative process felt like a continuation of the original workshop and, hopefully, offered Yousef a small measure of healing and encouragement through creative expression and compassion. The series combines moments from his home, neighborhood, and the city with images, writings, and collages by Yousef. A friend of mine (Dimitra Christodoulou) gifted him a dslr camera, which he now uses to document his life in Cairo.
East Eighteen is a psychological portrait of a Palestinian survivor who has lived through immense violence and now faces the complex challenge of rediscovering life in a new and complicated city, Cairo. Yousef explores his own identity, his own voice, as he leaves adolescence behind and steps into adulthood. Through this work, he attempts to make sense of his past and present, using creativity to process grief, preserve memory, reattach to life and imagine a future.
