An avoidable attack on the Capitol forces America to face its demons.

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Illustration by Diego Cadena Bejarano

It’s been exactly a decade since what Egyptians remember as the 25th of January. On one eerily quiet night, a concept which always rouses suspicion in lively Cairo, I drove home with a friend just days after a Coptic church bombing that made time stand still. We agreed there was this feeling in the air that something big was about to happen, the calm before the storm. These were my last days living in Egypt; I’d be back in New York City a week later, just before the events of what was then referred to as the revolution would break out. I kicked myself for leaving the country too soon and missing the opportunity to take part in what would later go down in history: the grassroots organizing, the protests, the beautiful shows of solidarity and creativity that came out of Tahrir Square and beyond, and best of all, the jokes. …

Reflections on life under lockdown from the world’s COVID-19 capital

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Photograph: Richard Drury — Getty Images

Brooklyn, NY — A few days back I caught myself feeling and behaving as though I’d just stepped off the set of The Walking Dead. A necessary but potentially lethal grocery run. Stealth mode. Backpack tightly on my back, hyperaware of my surroundings, baseball cap on; taking cautious (not paranoid) inventory of every sneeze, every cough not ejected into a folded arm, every potential respiratory droplet that self-righteously and of course by media mandate, we have the right to inspect, recoil from, and generously, promptly and in unison shoot a lasering death glare. …


Hadear Kandil

Writer based in Brooklyn. Many things in past lives; always came back to words.

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