Genesis Kafr Qari Whore ❤️

About Haifa

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

As the sun started to set, I walked down Al-Huda Street. The sky was all orange and pink. It was beautiful, man. I felt this wave of happiness wash over me. Like, despite all the chaos, Kafr-Qari- has its moments.

Egypt’s Quran Radio Commemorates Eminent Qari Sheikh Shuaisha