Entertainment

Richard Mofe-Damijo, Some Stories Outlive Us

Richard Mofe-Damijo, Some Stories Outlive Us By Jane Stevens For Richard Mofe-Damijo, cinema has never been solely about the characters an actor inhabits or the recognition that follows a memorable performance. It is an exploration of human nature, a means of examining the contradictions that define people, and an opportunity to tell stories that leave something meaningful behind. Across a career shaped by acting, writing and an expanding interest in film production, his perspective has increasingly turned towards a question that reaches beyond individual achievement: what can storytelling contribute to the world, and what remains when the performance ends? Richard’s relationship with acting began before his work in journalism, a distinction that offers an important insight into the way he approaches his craft. Journalism and writing did not replace his original creative ambitions; they complemented them, sharpening his awareness of the people and circumstances that inform a compelling narrative. Observing human behaviour, following events and making informed judgements are as relevant to understanding a character as they are to interpreting the world outside the screen. For an actor, the ability to notice what people say, what they conceal and how their circumstances influence their decisions can become an essential part of building a believable performance. This attention to human behaviour informs the characters Richard finds most compelling. Rather than approaching a role through the simplicity of good and evil, he is drawn to the psychological complexities that exist between them. No individual is entirely virtuous or wholly corrupt, and it is often within this uncertainty that the most revealing stories emerge. His understanding of character rests on the interplay between flaws and redemptive qualities, the opposing forces that can exist within a single person. Such a perspective resists the temptation to make characters predictable. A person capable of generosity may also be driven by selfishness; someone who has caused harm may still possess the capacity for remorse. These contradictions do not necessarily weaken a character. They make that character recognisable. The grey areas between light and darkness are where motivations become complicated, choices carry greater weight and audiences are invited to look beyond their first impressions. For Richard, this complexity is central to the work of interpreting a role. An actor must do more than reproduce dialogue or communicate an emotion convincingly. The task involves understanding the psychological landscape from which a character’s actions emerge, including the weaknesses, convictions and experiences that shape their decisions. The result, at its best, is a performance that encourages audiences to consider not only who a character is, but what has made them that way. His reflections on life have also reinforced the importance of approaching both work and personal growth with a sense of perspective. Not every turning point arrives as a dramatic event or an unmistakable change in direction. Sometimes, the experiences that alter one’s understanding of life are deeply personal: a birth, a death or a moment of recognising just how fragile human existence can be. Richard describes such experiences as occasions for reflection, prompting him to strive towards becoming a better person and to portray characters capable of inspiring others. There is a quiet significance in this distinction. Rather than treating personal transformation as a single defining moment, he recognises it as something that can emerge through repeated encounters with the realities of being human. These experiences influence how a person sees the world, what they value and the responsibilities they choose to embrace. For an actor, they can also deepen the emotional understanding brought to a role, allowing a performance to draw on something more substantial than technique alone. That sense of responsibility has become particularly relevant as Richard turns his attention towards producing. While acting allows him to explore stories through individual characters, producing offers a different kind of creative agency: the ability to help determine which stories reach an audience in the first place. He is increasingly interested in projects that might otherwise remain unrealised, particularly those with something important to communicate. The question is no longer only how to bring a character to life, but how to create the conditions in which a story can exist at all. It is a meaningful shift for an established performer. Experience within the industry can reveal not only the possibilities of cinema, but also the limitations that determine which projects receive attention, resources and support. Some stories may struggle to find a place within familiar commercial expectations, even when their cultural or social significance deserves consideration. Producing creates an opportunity to engage with that challenge directly, bringing creative vision and practical decision-making into the same process. For Richard, the motivation is closely connected to legacy. At this stage of his life and career, he is interested in working with younger people and nurturing a generation of committed creatives who recognise that art can contribute to social transformation. The emphasis is not simply on creating more films, but on encouraging a deeper understanding of why those films matter. Creative work, in this view, carries responsibilities beyond the completion of a project or the immediate response it receives. Mentorship becomes part of that vision. Every generation enters an industry shaped by the achievements, limitations and lessons of those who came before it. Experience can be valuable when it is shared, allowing emerging filmmakers to develop their own judgement while learning from the paths already travelled. Yet nurturing new talent also requires room for fresh perspectives, different methods and ideas that challenge established conventions. A meaningful legacy is not built by asking the next generation to reproduce the past, but by helping it develop the confidence and capability to create something of its own. This commitment to the future of filmmaking also informs Richard’s perspective on artificial intelligence. He recognises that AI is already expanding creative possibilities and may continue to do so in the hands of people who genuinely care about the craft. At the same time, he remains conscious of the potential for misuse and damage. His position acknowledges

Sara Mohannad, A Thread Between Fantasy and Possibility

Sara Mohannad, A Thread Between Fantasy and Possibility By Janhavi Gusani Between the immediacy of digital storytelling and the imaginative possibilities of cinema, Sara is building a creative identity shaped by performance, ambition and a desire to explore what lies beyond the screen. For her, acting is more than the ability to inhabit a character; it is an opportunity to create worlds, communicate emotions and connect with people through stories that stay with them long after the moment has passed. The desire to act began early, accompanied by a fascination with the world of Hollywood and the possibilities of storytelling on a larger scale. Yet, like many contemporary creatives, Sara found an accessible starting point in social media. What began as a space to share family stories, personal advice and everyday experiences gradually became a platform for experimenting with performance and discovering the possibilities of short-form acting. In 2021, she began creating scenes inspired by Disney, bringing familiar characters and imaginative situations into a format designed for digital audiences. These early experiments allowed her to explore expression, timing and characterisation while learning how to hold an audience’s attention in a matter of seconds. The medium was different from traditional cinema, but the underlying challenge remained familiar: making a story feel convincing enough for someone else to enter it. Digital platforms have transformed the relationship between performers and audiences. Creators can now develop an audience without waiting for traditional industry recognition, while viewers can encounter emerging talent directly through their screens. For Sara, this accessibility offers a valuable opportunity to experiment, build confidence and establish a connection with people who appreciate her work. However, she also recognises that digital visibility and professional acting are not interchangeable. Social media can open doors, but developing the discipline and range required for sustained performance demands continued growth beyond the platform itself. That distinction is important in an environment where popularity can easily become a measure of creative achievement. An engaging video may capture attention almost instantly, but the ability to sustain a character, interpret a complex script or contribute meaningfully to a larger production requires a different set of skills. Sara’s ambitions extend beyond the immediate rewards of online recognition. She sees her digital presence as a starting point from which she can continue exploring the wider possibilities of acting, particularly in film and television. At the heart of that ambition is the relationship between a performer and the audience. Social media makes this relationship unusually direct: reactions arrive quickly, opinions are visible and the boundary between public work and personal identity can become difficult to maintain. For creators, this proximity can be both encouraging and demanding. It offers immediate feedback while creating an environment in which every creative decision may be evaluated publicly. Sara approaches this reality by placing value on authenticity and maintaining a clear sense of her own direction. Criticism is an inevitable part of sharing work publicly, but it does not have to dictate the creative process. The ability to distinguish useful feedback from opinions that offer little room for growth becomes essential when the audience is large, diverse and constantly changing. Authenticity, in this context, is not simply about presenting an unfiltered version of oneself. It also involves understanding what to share, remaining consistent with one’s values and resisting the pressure to become a version of oneself designed entirely around audience expectations. For Sara, developing as a creator means allowing her work to evolve without losing the personal qualities that first made it meaningful. Her interests in fantasy and action offer another glimpse into the creative possibilities she hopes to pursue. These genres demand more than visual spectacle; they require performers to make extraordinary circumstances feel emotionally believable. Whether inhabiting an imagined world or responding to an intense physical situation, an actor must give the audience a reason to believe in what is unfolding. The appeal lies in that combination of imagination and discipline, where a performance can transport viewers somewhere unfamiliar while remaining grounded in recognisable human emotions. It is also where the limitations of short-form content become an invitation to think bigger. Brief scenes can introduce a character or communicate a single feeling, but longer narratives allow personalities to develop, relationships to change and conflicts to unfold with greater complexity. Film and television offer Sara the opportunity to explore these dimensions, challenging herself to move beyond the immediacy of social media and into stories with greater depth and scale. Hollywood remains part of that wider ambition, representing the possibility of working within an international entertainment industry and reaching audiences across cultures. Such aspirations require patience, preparation and the willingness to keep learning. Creative careers rarely follow a predictable route, particularly in an industry where opportunity depends on a combination of skill, timing, collaboration and persistence. The challenge is to remain open to possibilities while continuing to develop the abilities that make those possibilities achievable. Yet acting is not the only area in which Sara imagines a future. She is also interested in business and investment, particularly in Saudi Arabia, with the hope of expanding into Syria in the future. This interest reflects a broader understanding of ambition: creative expression and commercial thinking need not exist in separate worlds. Both involve recognising potential, making decisions under uncertainty and building something that can develop beyond its initial form. The business landscape across the region continues to attract entrepreneurs and investors looking for new opportunities, while cultural and creative industries are increasingly part of wider conversations about economic growth. For someone interested in both entertainment and business, this creates room to explore different forms of influence. A public platform can introduce a person’s work to an audience, but the ability to translate visibility into a meaningful long-term endeavour requires planning, sound judgement and a willingness to think beyond immediate attention. Sara’s interest in Saudi Arabia and Syria also points towards an ambition that extends beyond personal advancement. Building opportunities across different markets can create connections between people, ideas and

Greg Tanner, Inside the Changing Media

Greg Tanner, Inside the Changing Media By Michelle Clark Greg Tanner has spent enough time around the media to know that its most important changes are rarely technological. Platforms change, formats disappear, audiences move and new tools arrive, but the questions underneath remain remarkably familiar: What makes someone worth listening to? What makes a message believable? And when everyone has the ability to speak, what makes a person genuinely worth hearing? Those questions have become more complicated over the course of Tanner’s career. The media landscape he entered was structured around established gatekeepers, while today almost anyone can build an audience, publish an opinion or communicate directly with millions. His experience gives him an unusual vantage point from which to observe that shift. Rather than treating the changes as either progress or decline, he is interested in what they reveal about communication itself. One of the things Tanner returns to is the difference between visibility and credibility. Attention can be engineered. Successful formats can be copied, polished and repeated until they become familiar. But familiarity is not necessarily a connection. In his view, the strongest communicators are often those willing to sound like themselves rather than reproduce whatever happens to be working for somebody else. Originality comes with a risk: not everyone will respond to it. Yet that willingness to be distinctive is also what gives communication character. It is a principle that extends well beyond journalism. Leaders, entrepreneurs and public figures now operate in an environment where every interview, presentation or statement can become part of a much larger conversation. Tanner has seen that pressure increase over the years. During his time at Sky News, an awkward moment on air might have disappeared by the next hour. Today, a few seconds can be clipped, circulated and revisited indefinitely. That reality has changed the stakes, but Tanner does not believe it should change a person into a rehearsed version of themselves. Preparation matters, particularly for anyone representing an organisation or leading a public conversation, but too much preparation can strip away personality. His preference is to understand the essential points deeply enough that they can be expressed naturally The goal is not to memorise the perfect sentence. It is to know what you mean well enough to speak with clarity when the script is gone. That distinction says something about how Tanner approaches people as much as how he approaches the media. He sees preparation as something that should reveal a person’s knowledge and conviction rather than disguise their absence. Media training, in his view, can help unlock confidence, expertise and personality, but it cannot manufacture passion. If someone genuinely understands their subject and cares about it, the job is to give that quality room to come through. The same instinct informs his thinking about the growing number of ways organisations can communicate directly with the public. Corporate podcasts, editorial platforms and branded content have blurred the old boundaries between media and messaging. Tanner does not see that as inherently problematic. What matters is whether there is a genuine reason for the audience to pay attention. For him, communication begins with consideration for the person on the other side. Who are they? Why should they care? What are they receiving in exchange for their attention? An organisation does not necessarily lose credibility by having an agenda; pretending not to have one can be more damaging. The challenge is to offer something beyond the message an organisation wants to deliver. It is perhaps this focus on the audience that makes Tanner cautious about the rush toward constant content. The ability to publish has become almost effortless, but that does not mean every thought requires a platform. Good communication still demands judgement. There needs to be an idea, a reason, a point of view or something genuinely useful to say. Otherwise, publishing becomes another form of noise. His thoughts on artificial intelligence return to the same question of judgement. Tanner expects AI to absorb more routine forms of journalism, particularly work involving straightforward reports, numbers and information that can be processed efficiently. But he draws a line between processing information and discovering something meaningful within it. The latter still depends heavily on human instincts: a relationship with a source, a detail that feels inconsistent, a question that occurs in the moment, or the sense that there is a story underneath what everyone else is seeing. AI can assist with research, analysis, editing and condensing, but Tanner sees the instinct to pursue what has not yet been uncovered as one of journalism’s enduring human qualities. As routine content becomes easier to automate, curiosity may become more valuable rather than less. That emphasis on judgement also shapes his understanding of difficult moments. There is no universal formula for crisis communication, he believes. An apology may be appropriate in one situation and ineffective in another. The response has to account for the circumstances, the people involved, the seriousness of the issue and the relationship already established with the audience. What remains consistent is the importance of honesty. Tanner believes people can forgive mistakes more readily than they forgive being misled. Evasion, defensiveness and an assumption that the audience will not understand what is happening can damage trust further. The response has to fit the situation, but credibility begins with treating the audience as intelligent. Perhaps that is what experience has given Tanner most of all: an appreciation for what does not change. He is careful about predicting exactly what the media will look like ten years from now. AI will reshape production and distribution, traditional gatekeepers will continue to lose their exclusive control over attention, and leaders and organisations will have more opportunities to speak directly to their audiences. But greater access to communication does not automatically create greater trust. If anything, the abundance of voices makes trust more valuable. When content can be produced instantly, translated, personalised and distributed almost without friction, the qualities that take longer to build become harder to replace:

Rodolphe Manoukian, The Rhythm Beyond Borders

Rodolphe Manoukian, The Rhythm Beyond Borders By Janhavi Gusani For Rodolphe Manoukian, percussion is less an instrument than a language, one capable of moving between cultures without requiring translation. His work with the darbuka reflects an approach to music that is simultaneously rooted and exploratory: deeply connected to Lebanese and Armenian heritage, yet open to Indian, Punjabi, African, electronic and contemporary influences. What makes his artistic perspective distinctive is not simply the technical versatility of his playing, but his understanding of rhythm as a meeting point. In his hands, the darbuka becomes more than an instrument associated with a particular musical tradition. It becomes a vehicle for cultural exchange, capable of entering unfamiliar settings without losing the identity from which it comes. That philosophy reflects a broader understanding of what it means to be an artist today. Global audiences are increasingly exposed to music beyond conventional geographic and genre boundaries, while digital platforms have made cultural exchange almost instantaneous. For Manoukian, this presents an opportunity rather than a challenge: to demonstrate how much different traditions can discover in one another when they are allowed to interact naturally. His Lebanese-Armenian identity remains an important part of that equation. Rather than treating heritage as something that must be either preserved unchanged or deliberately reinvented, he approaches it as a foundation. The sounds, traditions and cultural experiences that shaped him inevitably inform the way he hears and creates, but they do not dictate where the music must go. “Authenticity means being honest about who you are while allowing yourself to grow,” he explains. That distinction is central to his creative philosophy. Manoukian is not interested in reproducing tradition simply because it is familiar. Nor is he interested in abandoning it in pursuit of something perceived as more contemporary. His interest lies in what happens between the two, when an inherited musical language encounters new influences and develops another vocabulary. The darbuka is particularly suited to that exploration. Its rhythmic character allows it to move naturally across musical environments, from Middle Eastern traditions to Afro music, house, electronic sounds, Bollywood and Punjabi music. His performances incorporating Indian and Punjabi influences have demonstrated how readily audiences can respond to that exchange, often encountering the instrument through a musical context they already understand. For Manoukian, the significance lies less in the novelty of fusion than in what it reveals: rhythm does not belong exclusively to one culture. That belief has been reinforced by his international experiences. Travel has expanded his musical vocabulary, but more importantly, it has challenged his assumptions about people and culture. Encountering different ways of thinking has made him more curious and open, while simultaneously deepening his appreciation of where he comes from. India, in particular, has offered a powerful example of this cultural dialogue. The strong emotional response to rhythm and the natural connection between Indian, Punjabi and Middle Eastern percussion have shown him how music can establish common ground before language or geography becomes relevant. This is where Manoukian’s work extends beyond performance. His objective is not necessarily for audiences to understand the technical intricacies of percussion. He wants them to feel something. Excitement, curiosity, emotional connection, those responses matter more to him than whether someone can identify every rhythmic technique being used. That emphasis on feeling also explains why the immediacy of live performance remains important to his practice. Yet the traditional boundaries of the stage have changed dramatically. Social media has transformed a performance from a moment experienced by the people in a room into something capable of travelling across continents within hours. For Manoukian, that shift has been particularly significant. A video can introduce the darbuka to someone who has never encountered the instrument, while an audience member thousands of kilometres away can become part of the conversation through a comment, song request or collaboration suggestion. The relationship is no longer one-directional. The audience can influence the artist just as much as the artist influences the audience. Behind that seemingly effortless exchange, however, is a discipline that remains distinctly traditional. Manoukian’s creative process begins with listening. Before introducing percussion into another musical form, he studies its rhythm, structure, feeling and energy. The objective is not to simply place the darbuka over an existing track, but to understand how the instrument can become part of the music itself. That requires technical discipline, but also the willingness to experiment without knowing whether an idea will work. For Manoukian, these two qualities, discipline and freedom, are not contradictory. They are complementary. Technical mastery creates the foundation from which experimentation becomes possible. Without preparation, spontaneity becomes limitation; without spontaneity, discipline can become repetition. His approach to success follows a similar principle. The international stages, digital visibility and opportunities that accompany a growing career are valuable, but they are not the measure by which he ultimately defines himself. Staying connected to the reason he began making music remains more important than external recognition. His meeting with Arijit Singh in India reinforced this perspective. What stayed with him was not only the singer’s extraordinary talent but his humility. For Manoukian, remaining grounded is one of the most important achievements an artist can pursue, regardless of how far a career travels. That humility is particularly relevant to his ambitions for the future. Rather than simply pursuing larger stages or more collaborations, Manoukian imagines projects in which cultural differences become part of one cohesive musical experience. Middle Eastern percussion could meet Indian rhythms, African grooves, electronic production and live instrumentation, not as separate showcases of identity, but as elements of a shared musical language. The ambition is ultimately bigger than genre. He wants to create experiences in which audiences can move through different cultures without feeling that they are being presented with cultural boundaries. The question should not be where one rhythm ends and another begins, but how they can exist together. And perhaps that is the most compelling dimension of Manoukian’s work. His career is not simply about bringing the darbuka into new musical

Emirati Women's Day, A Legacy of Ambition, A Future of Possibility

Dalal Aldoub, The Story From Influence Into Enterprise

Dalal Aldoub, The Story From Influence Into Enterprise By Janhavi Gusani Long before the creator economy became a defined industry, Dalal Al Doub was already building a relationship with audiences through fashion, beauty, and makeup. When she began sharing content in 2012, there was no established roadmap for becoming a creator, nor a clear understanding of what a digital presence could eventually become. What began as a genuine love for beauty gradually evolved into a community, a personal brand, and ultimately a business with ambitions beyond the region. As one of the early creators in the GCC sharing fashion and beauty content while wearing the hijab, Dalal also offered a form of representation that was still relatively uncommon online. Women could see someone who looked like them, dressed like them, and shared their interests. That familiarity helped create a relationship with her audience that felt personal from the beginning. As the community expanded beyond the GCC, she began to recognise that she was no longer simply sharing what she loved; she was building a community with the potential to become something much larger. That evolution has remained central to the way she approaches creativity and entrepreneurship. Dalal’s online journey has never been about presenting an untouched version of perfection. Her content has reflected both the rewarding moments and the challenges that accompany growth. For her, beauty begins from within, but it is also shaped by the life a person chooses to build. Over time, she learned that creativity, personal branding, and business are not separate worlds. They are extensions of the same journey: remaining curious, continuing to evolve, and transforming lived experience into something meaningful. At the centre of that journey is trust. Since she began creating content, Dalal has remained selective about what she shares and the brands she chooses to associate with. Her recommendations are grounded in genuine familiarity rather than simply commercial opportunity. That principle has become even more important as she has moved into entrepreneurship. When someone purchases a DALALID product, they are not only buying makeup. They are placing their trust in Dalal’s taste, standards, and vision—the same qualities that shaped her relationship with her audience long before she became a founder. The transition into beauty entrepreneurship therefore feels less like a departure from her creator career and more like its natural progression. After years of discovering, testing, and learning about beauty, Dalal began thinking about what she would create if she could address the gaps she encountered herself. Often, the starting point was personal: a particular texture, shade, finish, or product she wished existed. Her thinking was straightforward—if she was searching for something, there were likely other women searching for it too. That philosophy became the foundation of DALALID. Yet the brand is more than formulas, shades, and high-quality products. It has become a creative space through which Dalal can express her ideas, emotions, personal growth, and evolving perspective on beauty and culture. Product names, shade names, campaigns, and the stories surrounding them all contribute to a larger identity. DALALID is ultimately a reflection of its founder—not because every product is autobiographical, but because the standards and perspective behind it are deeply personal. That distinction is increasingly important in a global beauty industry where differentiation is difficult. Products can compete through performance, packaging, formulation, and innovation, but a brand with a distinct cultural point of view can create a deeper connection. For Dalal, that point of view is firmly rooted in the GCC. The Middle Eastern beauty industry is experiencing a significant transformation, with regional entrepreneurs increasingly shaping rather than simply participating in global conversations. Their advantage lies partly in proximity: they understand the consumer because they are part of the culture. They understand regional beauty standards, lifestyle, climate, purchasing habits, and the role beauty plays in everyday life. For DALALID, thinking globally has been part of the vision from the beginning. Dalal wants the brand to reach women across both East and West while retaining the cultural perspective that makes it distinctive. She sees an opportunity for someone discovering DALALID anywhere in the world to experience not only its products, but something of Kuwait, the GCC, and the Middle East through its story, inspiration, and cultural references. In that sense, beauty becomes a form of cultural dialogue. The experience is not only sensory. It can also introduce audiences to where a brand comes from and the perspective that shaped it. This reflects a broader confidence emerging among Middle Eastern founders. Global relevance no longer requires regional identity to be diluted. Increasingly, culture itself can become a source of distinction. Dalal has also witnessed the transformation of social media from a space for personal expression into a sophisticated business ecosystem. Today, the digital landscape is more crowded than ever, but it also provides unprecedented freedom. Creators can define their own paths, build communities around their interests, and develop businesses from their individual strengths. Yet that freedom comes with pressure. The constant presence of trends, algorithms, views, and engagement can make creators lose sight of the identity that initially made people connect with them. For Dalal, the answer lies in having a clear “why.” Why create? What should people feel, learn, or take away? What impact should the work ultimately leave? She recognises that financial success is a legitimate part of building a business. But longevity requires something deeper than commercial ambition. Purpose gives creativity direction, while authenticity gives it staying power. That same philosophy informs how she approaches product development. Her process often begins with personal experience, followed by careful attention to her community. She listens to feedback, reactions, comments, and conversations to understand what women feel is missing, then combines those insights with her own creative vision. A strong team supports the research, development, and execution, but the underlying idea remains personal. It is this balance between instinct and insight that allows a personal brand to evolve into a business without losing its original character. The journey also reflects a wider shift in

Priti Malik, A Voice That Found Its Way Into Millions of Lives

Priti Malik, A Voice That Found Its Way Into Millions of Lives By Janhavi Gusani Screens and constant digital consumption have taken the world by storm but Priti Malik’s career offers a compelling reminder that communication has always been, at its heart, deeply human. From the energy of live radio to the discipline of dance and the curiosity of journalism, her work has consistently revolved around one essential idea: connection. Raised in Queens, New York, by Indian-American parents, Malik grew up at the intersection of cultures. New York’s intensely independent character gave her the confidence to find her own direction, while its extraordinary diversity exposed her from an early age to different communities, perspectives and ways of understanding the world. Her Indian heritage remained an important part of that foundation, but so did the multicultural environment surrounding her. Together, they gave her a perspective shaped less by a single identity than by an openness to many. Her parents played an equally important role. Encouraged to be bold, social and willing to explore different possibilities, Malik developed an early confidence that would later become central to her career in media. Storytelling, however, was not the only form through which she learned to communicate. Dance became an important creative education in its own right. As captain of her Bollywood dance team during college, Malik experienced the discipline required to master a craft while simultaneously learning how to lead, collaborate and communicate with an audience without words. Preparation for competitions demanded dedication and organisation, while leading a team taught her the responsibilities that accompany bringing different personalities together around a shared goal. That understanding of communication would later translate naturally into broadcasting. For Malik, radio possesses a quality that remains difficult for any digital platform to replicate: immediacy. Unlike highly produced content, live radio leaves room for the unexpected. A conversation can shift direction in a second, a listener can respond in real time, and an unplanned exchange can become the moment audiences remember. It is precisely that unpredictability that she values. Radio, she believes, remains powerful because it creates a direct relationship between voice and listener. There are no visuals to carry the conversation and no opportunity to hide behind elaborate production. The connection has to be created through presence, personality and the ability to respond in the moment. That principle extends into her approach to interviewing. Preparation is essential, but Malik believes that listening is equally important. A journalist may enter an interview with carefully considered questions and talking points, yet the most compelling part of the conversation may emerge from an answer that was never anticipated. The ability to recognise that moment — and follow it rather than rigidly returning to the prepared script — is what can transform an interview from a sequence of questions into a genuine exchange. For Malik, listening is therefore not simply a professional skill. It is a way of understanding people. Years of hearing stories from individuals across different backgrounds have reinforced one lesson above all: kindness matters. Every person carries experiences that may not be immediately visible, and assumptions rarely reveal the full picture. Her work has taught her the importance of extending grace not only to people within her own circles but also to strangers whose circumstances may be unknown. It is a deceptively simple philosophy, but one that feels increasingly relevant in an era where communication has become easier while understanding can sometimes feel harder. The UAE has provided another dimension to that perspective. Living in a country where cultures and traditions coexist so closely has allowed Malik to recognise an environment that feels familiar rather than foreign. In many ways, it echoes the multicultural landscape in which she was raised in New York. That familiarity has shaped the way she approaches both her work and the people she encounters. Cultural diversity, for Malik, is not simply a characteristic of the UAE; it is part of what makes communication richer. Different backgrounds bring different interpretations, and understanding those differences becomes essential when creating conversations intended for broad audiences. This becomes particularly significant as media itself continues to change. Digital platforms have dramatically expanded the ways stories can be created, distributed and consumed. Audiences are no longer limited to scheduled broadcasts, and creators can reach people across geographical boundaries almost instantly. Yet Malik does not see digital media as replacing traditional communication. Instead, she sees the two existing alongside one another. Technology can extend reach. It can make information more accessible and create new opportunities for discovery. But the desire for genuine human interaction remains. That distinction is also central to her view of authenticity. In a world where audiences encounter carefully constructed identities across social media every day, Malik believes people have become increasingly perceptive about what feels genuine and what does not. Maintaining a version of yourself that is fundamentally disconnected from reality requires constant effort. Authenticity, by contrast, does not need to be performed indefinitely. For Malik, creativity and authenticity therefore remain two of the most enduring forces in media. Platforms may change, formats may evolve and technology may continue to transform the industry, but audiences will continue to respond to voices that feel real. Her perspective is also informed by the broader changes taking place in the media landscape, particularly the growing visibility of women and the stories they are bringing into public conversation. One of the most significant developments she sees in social media is the ability to amplify stories that may previously have remained unseen. Across digital platforms, communities now exist specifically to highlight women’s achievements across industries and disciplines. For Malik, that visibility represents a meaningful shift in whose stories are recognised and whose experiences become part of the larger cultural conversation. It is a progression that mirrors her own understanding of media: communication is not simply about having a platform. It is about what that platform allows people to hear, discover and understand. From the discipline of dance to the spontaneity of live

Ahmed Alnasheet, Storytelling, Innovation and the Future of the Creative Economy

Ahmed Alnasheet, Storytelling, Innovation and the Future of the Creative Economy By Janhavi Gusani The modern creative industry rarely fits neatly into a single definition. The lines between entertainment, technology, entrepreneurship, gaming, broadcasting, and digital media have become increasingly blurred, giving rise to a new generation of storytellers who are no longer confined to one platform or profession. Few embody that evolution as naturally as Ahmed AlNasheet. Over the years, he has established himself as one of the Arab world’s influential creative pioneers, building a career that spans television, voice acting, game direction, entrepreneurship, digital media, and live entertainment. Yet despite the diversity of his work, one constant has remained throughout every chapter of his journey: a belief that powerful storytelling has the ability to inspire, educate, and create lasting human connections. Unlike many creators whose careers are defined by a single breakthrough or platform, AlNasheet has continuously evolved alongside the industries he has helped shape. Rather than allowing technology to dictate his direction, he has embraced every new medium as another opportunity to tell meaningful stories. Whether hosting television programmes, directing immersive gaming experiences, creating digital content, or collaborating with global brands, each project reflects a consistent philosophy: audiences may forget the technology, but they never forget how a story made them feel. This approach has become increasingly significant in a digital landscape where content is produced faster than ever before. While platforms reward speed and algorithms favour immediacy, AlNasheet believes memorable storytelling has little to do with chasing trends. Instead, it begins with understanding people. Every project he chooses starts with a simple question: will this create an experience that audiences remember? The answer has never depended on projected views or engagement statistics. For him, success lies in creating something that sparks curiosity, encourages conversation, or inspires someone to see the world differently. Technology will continue to evolve, but human emotion remains remarkably constant, and it is this understanding that continues to guide every creative decision he makes. His willingness to move fluidly between industries reflects a broader belief that creators should never be defined by platforms alone. Television, gaming, voice acting, entrepreneurship, and digital media are not separate careers in his eyes – they are simply different forms of storytelling. Each discipline offers its own language, but all share the same purpose: creating meaningful experiences that connect with people. This perspective has allowed him to build an ecosystem of creativity rather than follow a conventional career path, demonstrating that innovation often happens at the intersection of multiple disciplines rather than within a single field. In many ways, AlNasheet’s philosophy challenges one of the greatest misconceptions surrounding today’s creator economy. While short-form content is frequently criticised for reducing attention spans, he believes it has actually elevated the craft of storytelling. Communicating a meaningful idea within thirty seconds requires extraordinary clarity and precision Every frame, every sentence, and every second must serve a purpose. Virality may generate temporary attention, but memorability builds careers. Whether producing a brief digital video or developing long-form entertainment, his objective remains unchanged: to make audiences laugh, think, learn something new, or leave feeling inspired. Rather than investing his energy in understanding ever-changing algorithms, he prefers to understand the people those algorithms serve. That human-centred philosophy extends to the diverse audiences he reaches across the Arab world and beyond. Creating primarily in Arabic has given AlNasheet a profound appreciation for the cultural significance of language. Spoken by hundreds of millions across multiple continents, Arabic connects communities with remarkably diverse traditions, histories, and lived experiences. Yet despite those differences, a shared language can create shared understanding. Every conversation with his audience reinforces a lesson he has carried throughout his career: stories rarely recognise borders. Genuine influence is never measured solely by audience size, but by the trust earned over time. If his work motivates someone to pursue creativity, discover a new passion, or simply believe more deeply in their own potential, then he considers the project successful. Reach can happen overnight; trust requires years of consistency. As his career has matured, so too has his understanding of impact. Early on, success naturally revolved around producing the next piece of content or launching the next creative idea. Today, however, his focus extends far beyond personal achievements. Building businesses, mentoring emerging creators, developing teams, and helping organisations tell stronger stories have become equally rewarding aspects of his work. The shift from creating content to creating opportunities has fundamentally transformed his perspective. Every video has an upload date, but a meaningful idea has the potential to grow for years, influencing people long after its original release. For AlNasheet, this long-term mindset has become one of the most rewarding aspects of creative leadership. The rapid evolution of the Gulf’s creative economy has further reinforced this optimism. Over the past decade, the region has witnessed extraordinary growth across entertainment, gaming, technology, and digital media. Yet AlNasheet believes the greatest transformation has not been technological – it has been psychological. Years ago, creators were still proving that digital media could become a legitimate profession. Today, they are building production companies, launching original intellectual property, directing films, designing games, creating live experiences, and developing globally recognised brands. The conversation has shifted from simply producing content to building worlds. Looking ahead, he believes the next generation of creators will increasingly focus on owning ideas rather than depending entirely on platforms. Original storytelling, immersive entertainment, gaming, artificial intelligence, and culturally authentic creative experiences will define the region’s next chapter, positioning the Middle East as a global source of innovation rather than simply a consumer of international trends. Having worked extensively across gaming, television, voice acting, and digital production, AlNasheet has witnessed first-hand how rapidly creative technology evolves. Yet amid constant innovation, one truth remains unchanged. Technology provides creators with increasingly sophisticated tools, but storytelling is what gives those tools meaning. Audiences rarely remember the software behind a game or the camera used to produce a film. Instead, they remember the emotions those experiences created.

Andreas Koundourakis, From Viral Moment to Lasting Influence

Andreas Koundourakis,From Viral Moment to Lasting Influence, The Power of Identity, Culture and Connection By Janhavi Gusani The digital landscape where trends are fleeting and viral fame often fades as quickly as it arrives, creating a lasting identity has become one of the greatest challenges for modern creators. Millions compete for attention, yet only a handful manage to transform online recognition into something that transcends algorithms. Andreas Koundourakis is one of those rare figures. Known worldwide for the now-iconic phrase “Habibi, come to Dubai,” he has evolved far beyond a viral sensation, building a personal brand rooted in confidence, humour, optimism, and cultural connection. His success is not simply the result of social media, but of a worldview shaped by multiple cultures, extensive travel, and an instinctive understanding of how people connect through emotion rather than geography. Behind the polished visuals and aspirational lifestyle that have become synonymous with his public image lies a story of navigating different worlds. Raised between Greek passion, Belgian discipline, Arabic hospitality, Dubai’s ambition, and a broader European perspective, Andreas grew up understanding that while cultures may differ, human aspirations remain remarkably similar. Regardless of nationality or language, people seek love, respect, success, belonging, and purpose. That realisation became the foundation of his creative philosophy, influencing the way he approaches storytelling and the audiences he speaks to today. Travel further reinforced this perspective. Moving between Europe and the Middle East exposed him to vastly different ways of living, communicating, and expressing identity. Over time, he realised that creativity extends beyond language; it is ultimately about energy. People remember how content makes them feel more than the words themselves. This understanding has become central to his work, allowing him to create content that resonates across continents. Rather than tailoring his message to one audience, Andreas naturally blends multiple cultural influences into a single narrative. A video may combine Dubai’s luxury lifestyle, Mediterranean humour, Arabic warmth, and European wit, creating content that feels familiar to viewers from remarkably different backgrounds. His ability to communicate across languages only strengthens this connection, transforming multiculturalism into one of his greatest creative advantages. The phrase that introduced Andreas to the world was never intended to become a global phenomenon. Yet “Habibi, come to Dubai” quickly evolved into one of social media’s most recognisable moments, connecting millions of people through humour and personality. While many creators spend years attempting to manufacture virality, Andreas discovered that authenticity often produces the strongest impact. The unexpected success of that single phrase reinforced an important lesson: audiences respond most powerfully when creators stop performing and simply become themselves. Rather than allowing one viral moment to define his career, he used it as the foundation for building something far more enduring – a recognisable identity capable of evolving far beyond internet trends. Although Andreas’ brand is undeniably global, Dubai has become inseparable from his public persona. More than a backdrop for content, the city represents a mindset that closely aligns with his own ambitions. For Andreas, Dubai symbolises possibility. It is one of the few places where dreaming big is encouraged rather than questioned, where ambition is viewed as motivation instead of arrogance. That culture of optimism has helped transform the city into one of the world’s most dynamic creative and entrepreneurial hubs. He believes the broader Middle East is experiencing a defining cultural shift. No longer simply consuming global trends, the region is actively shaping them. Fashion, entertainment, hospitality, digital media, and luxury experiences are increasingly originating from the Middle East, combining regional identity with international standards. Rather than imitating established creative industries, local talent is confidently presenting its own voice to the world. Andreas sees this evolution as one of the region’s greatest strengths. Luxury itself has also changed, becoming less about products and more about experiences – where atmosphere, storytelling, aesthetics, hospitality, and emotion come together to create meaningful memories. This emphasis on experience mirrors the way Andreas approaches his own creative work. Despite the carefully curated lifestyle that defines much of his online presence, Andreas remains clear about what authenticity truly means. In an age where oversharing is often mistaken for honesty, he believes authenticity is measured not by how much of one’s private life is revealed, but by consistency of character. A creator’s style may evolve, production quality may improve, and trends may change, but the core identity behind the content should remain recognisable. His audience has come to associate him with confidence, positivity, humour, ambition, and what he describes as a distinctly “Habibi gentleman” energy. Those qualities remain constant regardless of where or how the content is produced. This philosophy extends naturally into his broader approach to storytelling. Andreas views social media not as the final destination, but as the starting point of a much larger creative vision. Rather than focusing on individual posts, he thinks in terms of building an interconnected universe where music, fashion, visuals, humour, lifestyle, and memorable phrases all contribute to one recognisable identity. Every successful piece of content has the potential to evolve into something greater – a song, a live experience, a collaboration, or an entirely new creative project. In this sense, storytelling becomes far more than entertainment. It becomes a way of creating emotional memory, aspiration, and genuine connection. As social media continues to transform individuals into global brands almost overnight, Andreas believes the distinction between attention and influence has never been more important. Viral fame may generate visibility, but lasting influence is built through consistency and purpose. Anyone can experience a moment of online success, yet very few create an identity capable of surviving changing algorithms and evolving digital platforms. For Andreas, meaningful influence emerges when audiences associate someone not simply with content, but with a feeling. Whether that feeling is optimism, confidence, humour, or ambition, emotional connection remains the true measure of a personal brand. Longevity, rather than virality, becomes the ultimate test of creative relevance. Looking ahead, Andreas is increasingly focused on projects that extend beyond social media. Music has become an

Velvet Lights Over the Skyline, Luxury Entertainment Experiences Are Redefining UAE Showbiz

Velvet Lights Over the Skyline, Luxury Entertainment Experiences Are Redefining UAE Showbiz By Marina Ezzat Alfred The United Arab Emirates has long been associated with ambition made visible. Its skylines are sculpted from glass and imagination, its islands shaped like architectural statements, its resorts designed to feel almost cinematic in scale. Yet in recent years, a quieter transformation has been unfolding beneath the spectacle of its urban identity, one that is reshaping the very meaning of entertainment itself. Across Dubai and Abu Dhabi, showbusiness is no longer confined to theatres, concert halls, or traditional nightlife spaces. It has expanded into something more fluid, more immersive, and far more luxurious. Entertainment is now being experienced as an extension of lifestyle, where exclusivity, storytelling, hospitality, and spectacle merge into a single continuous experience. In this new landscape, entertainment is no longer something you attend. It is something you enter. Luxury in the UAE has evolved beyond material expression into experiential design. A night out is rarely a single event. It becomes a sequence of curated moments that begin with arrival and extend far beyond departure. Private transfers, five star hospitality, panoramic rooftop settings, bespoke dining experiences, and exclusive access are not exceptions but expectations within this ecosystem. Venues themselves have transformed accordingly. Restaurants no longer exist solely as places to dine but as stages for performance and atmosphere. Lighting, music, choreography, digital art, and culinary presentation are woven together to create environments that feel theatrical in nature. Guests are not simply observing the experience. They are participating in it. This shift reflects a broader global evolution in luxury consumption. Younger audiences, in particular, are increasingly prioritising experiences over possessions. Memory, emotion, and visual storytelling have become more valuable than ownership. The UAE has not only recognised this change but has refined it into an art form, positioning itself at the forefront of experiential entertainment. Nowhere is this more visible than in the region’s concert and live performance culture. The UAE has become a key destination for international artists, performers, and DJs, yet what distinguishes these events is not only their scale but their atmosphere. Concerts are staged in environments that feel almost surreal in their beauty, from beachfront arenas illuminated by skyline reflections to desert settings that transform sound into landscape. These are not conventional performances. They are immersive productions designed to elevate music into experience. VIP culture plays a central role in this evolution. Hospitality has become an integral part of entertainment itself, with private lounges, curated guest experiences, backstage style access, and personalised service defining how audiences engage with live events. The result is a tiered but seamless entertainment structure where exclusivity is not an add on but a defining feature. Abu Dhabi complements this spectacle with a more culturally refined approach. Alongside large scale performances, the city continues to host international film festivals, art exhibitions, orchestral performances, and curated cultural events that emphasise sophistication and global dialogue. Together, Dubai and Abu Dhabi create a dual identity that blends spectacle with substance, energy with elegance. Parallel to this transformation, a new force has reshaped how entertainment is discovered and consumed, the rise of social media influence. Influencers have become essential participants in the UAE’s entertainment ecosystem. No longer limited to promotion, they now function as cultural amplifiers, shaping trends, driving audiences, and transforming venues into globally recognised experiences through digital storytelling. Their presence is deeply integrated into the industry’s structure. Events are now designed with visual storytelling in mind from the outset. Lighting, architecture, décor, and even guest flow are carefully considered for their digital impact. Every space is engineered to be photographed, filmed, and shared, extending the life of an event far beyond its physical duration. In this sense, the UAE has not only embraced influencer culture but has incorporated it into the architecture of entertainment itself. The result is a new form of visibility economy, where luxury is both experienced and broadcast simultaneously. Influencers travel to the UAE not only to participate in events but to construct narratives of aspiration, elegance, and success that circulate globally within hours. The city becomes both setting and symbol, a backdrop for modern digital identity. At the same time, celebrity involvement has added another layer to the region’s entertainment identity. International artists, athletes, designers, and entertainment entrepreneurs are increasingly investing in hospitality and nightlife concepts across Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Their participation brings global attention while reinforcing the perception of the UAE as a destination where culture and prestige intersect. Nightlife itself has undergone a quiet reinvention. Clubs and lounges are no longer defined solely by music or dance culture. Instead, they function as hybrid environments where performance, fashion, technology, and immersive design coexist. Visual installations, live performances, curated soundscapes, and experiential programming have replaced traditional formats. The focus has shifted from entertainment as activity to entertainment as atmosphere. What emerges from this evolution is not a collection of isolated industries but a unified entertainment ecosystem. Tourism, hospitality, nightlife, culture, and digital media operate within a single interconnected framework. A visitor can move through the UAE experiencing a continuous sequence of curated moments, each one distinct yet seamlessly linked to the next. This integration is perhaps the most defining feature of the UAE’s entertainment identity. Luxury is not confined to one sector. It is embedded across all layers of experience, shaping how people move, interact, and engage with the city. Within this system, entertainment becomes something more than leisure. It becomes architecture. It becomes narrative. It becomes identity. What sets the UAE apart is not only its capacity to host global entertainment but its ability to reimagine how entertainment itself is structured. It has transformed from a destination for events into a platform for experiences, where every moment is designed to feel intentional, elevated, and memorable. As the global entertainment landscape continues to evolve, the UAE stands at a unique intersection of culture and innovation. It has demonstrated that luxury is no longer an accessory to entertainment. In its most developed

Nagham Debal, The Quiet Reinvention of Arabic Sound

Nagham Debal, The Quiet Reinvention of Arabic Sound By Natalia Davis Picture stepping into a hotel room that seems to already know you. The lights glow with your favorite warm hue, a playlist you love hums softly in the background, and a screen gently suggests a massage to ease your travel fatigue before you’ve even unzipped your suitcase. This isn’t a scene from a futuristic film; it’s a glimpse into the emerging reality of travel. The world of tourism and hospitality is transforming rapidly, blending innovation with personalization to create experiences that are not only enjoyable but also sustainable and deeply tailored to individual preferences. From artificial intelligence that acts as your intuitive travel companion to virtual explorations that allow you to wander through destinations before you book, the future of travel promises to be more exciting, more personal, and more responsible than ever before. In Dubai, where the pace is relentless and the cultural mix is part of everyday life, some artists arrive looking for space and end up finding a sharper version of themselves. For Syrian qanun player Nagham Debal, the city did not simply offer a stage. It changed the way she listened, performed, and thought about music itself. “Living in Dubai has been a transformative experience,” she says. “Its cultural diversity allowed me to see music as a universal language rather than a local expression.” That line captures something essential about Debal’s work. She is rooted in the Eastern sound world, but she does not treat tradition as a sealed room. She treats it as something alive, something that can travel, bend, and still remain recognisable. That approach matters, especially now, when Arabic music is being pulled in different directions at once. There is nostalgia on one side, trend-driven experimentation on the other, and a growing appetite for sounds that feel authentic without sounding trapped in the past. Debal is working right in the middle of that tension. She does not speak like an artist trying to decorate heritage for a modern audience. She speaks like someone who has lived inside the tradition long enough to understand that it can expand without losing its weight. “I began blending the Eastern essence that represents my roots with influences from different cultures,” she says, “shaping a unique artistic identity, one that balances authenticity with openness.” In Dubai, that balance is not an abstract ideal. It is a survival skill. The city does not ask artists to choose one audience, one language, or one frame of reference. It places all of them in the same room. For a musician, that can be daunting. It can also be liberating. Debal seems to have understood this early. Instead of treating cultural diversity as background noise, she absorbed it into her sound. The result is music that still carries the emotional architecture of the Arab East, but with enough flexibility to speak beyond it. Her artistic foundation began long before Dubai entered the picture. She grew up in a musical family, which meant that music was not introduced to her as a career goal or an ambition to pursue later in life. It was simply there, woven into the atmosphere of her home. “Being raised in a musical family laid the foundation for my passion,” she says. But there was a second layer to that foundation, and it came from the UAE itself. “Growing up in a country like the UAE, where art and culture are truly supported, gave me the space to grow and express myself.” That support, often discussed in broad cultural terms, becomes very concrete in an artist’s life. It shows up in confidence. In rehearsal time. In public platforms. In the willingness to try something that might otherwise be considered unusual. Debal says the environment encouraged her “to step onto the stage with confidence and evolve continuously,” and that confidence is visible in the way she presents herself now: calm, intentional, and fully aware of the image she has built. There is a temptation, when writing about artists like Debal, to treat the instrument as the central character. The qanun is, after all, a beautiful and demanding instrument, with a long history and a sound that can move from melancholy to brightness in a single phrase. But what makes Debal interesting is not only that she plays it well. It is the way she talks about it, almost as if it speaks for emotions that ordinary language cannot reach. “The qanun captivated me because of its emotional depth,” she says. “It can express what words cannot.” That is not just a poetic answer. It reveals how she sees her craft. For her, the instrument is not simply a vessel for technique. It is a means of carrying feeling, memory, and texture into the room. She felt a connection to it from a young age, and that early attachment still seems to guide her artistic instincts. She is drawn not only to preserving the instrument’s legacy, but to asking what it can do next. “Today, I believe the qanun has great potential to re-emerge in a modern context,” she says, “by blending it with contemporary styles and presenting it to a global audience.” This is where Debal’s work starts to feel especially relevant. Across the Arab world, there is a growing conversation about how heritage instruments can remain present without being confined to museum logic or formal nostalgia. The answer, in Debal’s case, is not to smooth out the qanun’s identity, but to place it in new settings and let it breathe there. That requires not just technical ability, but imagination. It also requires nerve. Debal is candid about the challenges that come with making a mark in a space where precision, discipline, and credibility matter more than spectacle. She notes that in any field, men and women are present, “yet it is not always expected for women to excel in areas that require high levels of precision and dedication, such as playing the qanun.” She did not