Global Voices Online: Middle east, north africa

African fashion has its own trends and must not adapt to the Western market

Originally published on Global Voices

Backstage image from Dakar Fashion Week. Screenshot from the video “Dakar Fashion Week 2025 TRY-ON” on the FA Channel TV YouTube channel

Although African fashion has long been reduced to wax prints, boubou (long, loose-fitting dresses), and handicrafts, another story is unfolding on this continent. African designers now dress global stars, like Michelle Obama, Rihanna, and Beyoncé. African brands have also won the LVMH (Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton) Prize, and the Dakar and Lagos Fashion Weeks are setting their own trends.

Ramata Diallo, a Fashion Management graduate from Kedge Business School, has made it her mission to report on this thriving, creative Africa through her Africa Fashion Tour initiative, a media platform dedicated to the continent’s fashion professionals. A far cry from clichés, she talks more about the economic success stories, ethical and efficient models, and luxury know-how that rivals that of major international fashion houses. In an email interview with Global Voices, she explains how cultural visibility translates into economic viability, why African authenticity doesn’t need to adapt to Western markets, and how this continent may well become a leader in more sustainable and inclusive fashion.

Joel Hevi (JH): When travelling across the continent for the Africa Fashion Tour, what techniques or styling impressed you most? Why does it remain largely unknown internationally?

Ramata Diallo (RD): Mes voyages à travers les capitales de la mode en Afrique et mes interviews de professionnels de la mode m’ont permis de comprendre les spécificités des savoir-faire uniques du continent africain. Le caractère luxueux des tissus tels que le Leppi de Guinée ou le Kente du Ghana qui nécessitent plusieurs heures de travail manuel comptent parmis les éléments qui m’ont le plus marquée. Le relation particulière entre le créateur de mode et ses clients qui jouent à la fois le rôle de designer et de styliste est un autre élément qui place l’écosystème de la mode en Afrique dans le segment haut de gamme.

Ramata Diallo (RD): My trips to Africa’s fashion capitals and my interviews with fashion professionals helped me understand the specifics of the African continent’s unique know-how. The luxurious nature of fabrics like Guinea’s Leppi or Ghana’s Kente, which require several hours of handwork, is one of the features that impressed me most. The special relationship between fashion designers and their clients, who serve as both designer and stylist, is another factor that puts Africa’s fashion ecosystem in the high-end category.

Backstage image from Dakar Fashion Week. Screenshot from the video “Dakar Fashion Week 2025 TRY-ON” on the FA Channel TV YouTube channel

JH: The image of African fashion is often limited to boubou and wax prints. Is it a conscious move on your part to look beyond these symbols? Do they still retain strategic value for the continent’s branding?

RD: L’Afrique est composée de 54 pays et ne saurait être réduite au boubou, au wax et à la djellaba (longue robe ample répandue comme vêtement traditionnel au Maghreb). L’ambition du média Africa Fashion Tour est d’aller à la rencontre de ceux qui font la mode et de présenter leur travail. Le vestiaire de la femme africaine est multiple. Loin d’être uniforme, la mode africaine est tantôt traditionnelle, tantôt occidentale, tantôt hybride. Inclassable si on utilise une grille de lecture occidentale. Le consommateur de mode africain est volatile, son style évolue au gré des cérémonies. Tous les excès sont permis et chacun peut utiliser la mode comme moyen d’expression du plus classique au plus extravagant.

RD: Africa is made up of 54 countries and should not be limited to boubou, wax prints, and djellaba (a long, loose-fitting robe that is traditional attire in the Maghreb region). The Africa Fashion Tour media platform aims to reach out to those involved in fashion and showcase their work. African women’s wardrobes are diverse. Quite mixed, African fashion is sometimes traditional, sometimes Western, and sometimes a combination. It is unclassifiable when using a Western frame of reference. African fashion consumers are unpredictable; their style changes depending on the occasion. Anything goes, and everyone can use fashion as a means of expression, from the most classic to the most extravagant.

Photo of Ramata Diallo, used with permission

JH: Storytelling is an integral part of your approach, especially through the articles and podcasts you publish on your platform. How do you choose the stories to showcase? What criteria do you use to tell these stories?

RD: L’objectif du média est de donner la parole à des professionnels du secteur de la mode basé en Afrique afin de leur donner l'opportunité de raconter leur propre histoire. L'idée est de raconter des success story africaines, de montrer à quel point les modèles économiques sont à la fois éthiques et performants, de sortir des clichés et des idées reçues pour montrer à quel point le business de la mode en Afrique est florissant.

RD: The media platform’s objective is to make the voices of Africa-based fashion industry professionals heard, giving them the chance to tell their own stories. The aim is to tell African success stories, show how efficient and ethical the economic models can be, and look beyond clichés and misconceptions to illustrate how Africa’s fashion industry is thriving.

Backstage image from Dakar Fashion Week. Screenshot from the video “Dakar Fashion Week 2025 TRY-ON” on the FA Channel TV YouTube channel

JH: The fashion industry is also an economic arena. How do you see the link between cultural visibility and economic viability for African designers? Have you identified any particularly inspiring economic models?

RD : Les professionnels de la mode en Afrique ont parfaitement compris le jeu de l'influence et des collaborations. Récemment Ciara, artiste américaine a défilé à la Lagos Fashion Week pour la marque Fruche. Tongoro et Sisters of Afrika ont habillé Beyoncé une star internationale que l'on ne présente plus. La visibilité des marques africaines sur les podiums et les médias internationaux est un enjeu majeur pour changer le regard sur la mode africaine et placer les designers du continent africain au même niveau que les autres. Cette visibilité sur les réseaux sociaux a un impact direct sur les commandes et la viabilité des marques.

RD: Fashion professionals in Africa have perfectly understood the role of influence and collaborations. Recently, Ciara, an American music artist, walked the runway at the Lagos Fashion Week for the Nigerian brand Fruche. Tongoro and Sisters of Afrika have also dressed Beyoncé, an international star who needs no introduction. The visibility of African brands on catwalks and the international media is central to changing perceptions of African fashion and putting the continent’s designers on the same footing as others. Visibility on social media directly impacts orders and the brand’s viability.

JH: The Western market values authenticity and handicrafts, but also requires difficult-to-meet production, delivery, and volume standards. How does Africa Fashion Tour help designers navigate this gap? Are there brands that have successfully found the perfect balance between their artisanal identity and the global market demands?

RD : L'authenticité et le fait-main sont des valeurs totalement africaines. En 2025, la réussite du Pop up Africa now aux Galeries Lafayette a été une réussite. Il a réunit 15 créateurs sur un espace dédié pendant trois semaines. C'est un exemple concret de la capacité des professionnels de la mode la mode en Afrique à présenter des collections et atteindre les standards occidentaux. Le marché mondial est déréglé avec des acteurs qui produisent des quantités en masse qu’ils ne parviennent pas à vendre. Le temps est à la rationalisation et à la production de collections en éditions limitées, ce qui correspond totalement aux modes de fonctionnement des marques africaines.

RD: Authenticity and handicrafts are quintessentially African values. In 2025, the Africa Now pop-up at Galeries Lafayette in Paris was a success. It brought together 15 designers in one dedicated space for three weeks. This is an excellent example of the African fashion professionals’ ability to showcase collections and meet Western standards. Those who produce mass quantities but fail to sell disrupt the global market. The time has come to streamline and produce limited-edition collections, which aligns entirely with African brands’ way of working.

JH: Aside from your platform, how could mass media change the perception of African fashion, especially on social networks and in visual productions like film and TV series?

RD: L’explosion de l’influence africaine au-delà des frontières du continent à travers Nollywood, Marodi TV ( une société de production de contenus audiovisuels), l’afrobeat notamment n’est plus à prouver. En 2025, la marque ghanéenne Boyedoe a été démi-finaliste du concours LVMH. Le succès de la Foire Akaa (Also Known As Africa) à Paris qui a fêté ses 10 ans en 2025 est une autre preuve de l’attrait grandissant pour les industries culturelles et créatives africaines qui ne se limitent pas à des likes sur les réseaux sociaux, mais se traduit concrètement par des films et des événements tels, que les fashion week à Dakar ou Lagos.

RD: The success of the AKAA (Also Known As Africa) contemporary art and design fair in Paris, which marked its 10th anniversary in 2025, is further proof of the growing appeal of African creative and cultural industries. This is not limited to likes on social media, but is reflected in films and events such as the Dakar and Lagos Fashion Weeks.

Models stage a photoshoot on Dakar's iconic long boats. Screenshot from YouTube. Free use.

JH: African fashion is often seen as an emerging industry or a source of inspiration for the rest of the world. Does the continent have the potential to become a true pillar of innovation and leadership, setting tomorrow’s global trends, especially in terms of durability and inclusion?

RD: Sur le continent à travers les Fashion Week à Dakar, à Lagos, à Casablanca, la mode afrcaine a déjà ses propres tendances, ses propres codes et ne doit pas chercher à s’adapter à un marché occidental. Il y a un fort intéret pour les créateurs du continent et des consommateurs issus de la diaspora, du marché local et du reste du monde.

RD: Through the Dakar, Lagos, and Casablanca Fashion Weeks, African fashion already has its own trends and codes on this continent, and must not try to adapt to the Western market. There is strong interest in the continent’s designers, with consumers in the diaspora, the local market, and the rest of the world.

Written (Français) by Joel HeviTranslated (English) by LauraView original post (Français)

‘For me, beauty is not decoration, but a conscious position’

Originally published on Global Voices

Melis Buyruk, ‘Bearded Dragon,’ 2025. Porcelain, platinum detail, 120 × 120 cm (47 1/5 × 47 1/5 in). Leila Heller Gallery. Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

Turkish artist Melis Buyruk entered 2025 with two striking exhibitions that solidified her position as one of the most original sculptural voices working in porcelain today. Her recent exhibitions in the United Arab Emirates, “Four Birds and One Soul,” and “Because Some Things Are Still Beautiful,” presented alongside her solo section with Leila Heller Gallery at Contemporary Istanbul, have drawn critical attention for their emotional clarity and the way they translate myth, memory, and interiority into complex visual form.

These exhibitions, shaped by what Buyruk calls her “inner chronology,” arrive at a moment when global audiences are increasingly attuned to ceramics as a conceptual medium, and her work stands out for its meticulous craftsmanship and symbolic depth.

Born in Gölcük in 1984, Buyruk describes a childhood immersed in making — drawing, sewing, shaping, and building tactile worlds by instinct. “The act of making felt instinctive from an early age,” she recalls, noting how this sensibility naturally led her to ceramics and, later, to the demanding precision of porcelain. Studying at Selçuk University in Konya, Turkey, beginning in 2003, she gradually developed a visual language in which detail and technique became inseparable from meaning.

Melis Buyruk, ‘Gazelle, The Most Beautiful,’ 2025. Porcelain and stoneware
64 × 70 × 40 cm (25 1/5 × 27 3/5 in). Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

Buyruk’s style occupies a liminal terrain where the real and the mythical converge: botanical forms, animals, and imagined ecosystems operate as metaphors for self-mastery, longing, and the fragile architecture of inner peace. Her compositions — subtle on the surface, labyrinthine upon closer view — challenge the viewer’s sense of beauty and perception, inviting contemplation of what lies beneath stillness and precision.

“Years of long studio hours naturally led to technical mastery,” she says of her process, a discipline visible in the fragile yet commanding presence of her porcelain worlds.

With recent exhibitions spanning Asia and the Middle East, and with major acquisitions such as the Louvre Abu Dhabi through Leila Heller Gallery, Buyruk’s work continues to resonate across cultures and institutions.

In an interview with Global Voices, Buyruk spoke about myth and inner journeys, the emotional resonance of porcelain, the shifting landscape of contemporary ceramics, and the evolving trajectory of her new series.

Excerpts from the interview follow: 

Melis Buyruk, ‘The Goose (Symbol of Greed),’ from ‘Four Birds and One Soul’ Exhibition, 2024. Porcelain, 81 x 66 cm (32 x 26 in). Leila Heller Gallery. Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

Omid Memarian (OM): Your recent exhibitions — “Four Birds and One Soul” in the UAE and “Because Some Things Are Still Beautiful,” along with your solo presentation with Leila Heller Gallery at Contemporary Istanbul, create a decisive moment in your career. How do these shows relate to each other in your mind, and what emotional or conceptual threads connect the works you chose to exhibit in Dubai and Istanbul?

Melis Buyruk (MB): “Four Birds and One Soul” comes from a story in Rumi’s “Masnavi,” often described as “the four birds in the cage of flesh.” Inside that cage are four birds, each symbolizing a human trait that can weigh down our inner journey: the peacock stands for pride, the crow for material attachment, the rooster for impulsive desire, and the goose for greed. The story suggests that maturity comes through learning self-mastery, allowing the soul to move with greater clarity. In Sufi thought, it is a powerful metaphor for the inner journey. When I first encountered this story, I was deeply affected and wanted to bring these four symbolic birds into my ongoing “Habitat” universe, where natural forms carry inner states. The title of the exhibition grew directly from this impulse.

Melis Buyruk, ‘Where Beauty Decides to Appear,’ 2025. Porcelain, 41 × 74 × 20 cm (16 1/10 × 29 1/10 × 7 9/10 in). Leila Heller Gallery. Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

“Because Some Things Are Still Beautiful” is connected differently. It is not a denial of reality, but a response to moments when clarity feels fragile, and language becomes insufficient. In those moments, attention to beauty, especially the quiet precision of the natural world, can become something to hold onto. For me, beauty is not decoration, but a conscious position.

The way these works were presented in Dubai and Istanbul was shaped more by timing than by curatorial strategy. I was in China just before Contemporary Istanbul, and that personal moment naturally led to “Because Some Things Are Still Beautiful.” Rather than selecting works for specific locations, the exhibitions reflected my own inner chronology and the moment each body of work was ready to be shared.

Melis Buyruk, a detail of The Peacock (Symbol of Pride and Vanity),’ from ‘Four Birds and One Soul’ Exhibition, 2024. Porcelain, 81 x 66 cm (32 x 26 in). Leila Heller Gallery. Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

OM:  Can you talk about your early years, your childhood memories of making things with your hands, and when you first realized that ceramics — and later porcelain — would become your primary artistic language?

MB: I grew up immersed in my own inner world, always making things with my hands, drawing, shaping objects, sewing, playing with clay. The act of making felt instinctive from an early age, and it followed me through school, where I was constantly drawing in the margins of my notebooks.

When I began studying ceramics at Selçuk University in 2003, it wasn’t a fully conscious choice. At the time, ceramics were not yet widely seen as a contemporary medium. But as I learned more, I became increasingly drawn to detail and to building meaning from small elements toward a whole. Porcelain, with its precision and sensitivity, naturally became my primary language.

I tend to work meticulously and value technical clarity and finish, which led me to stay with the same material over time rather than moving between mediums. This continuity allowed both my practice and my relationship with porcelain to deepen. Craftsmanship is essential to my work. It invites the viewer not only to look, but to consider the process of making as part of the experience.

Melis Buyruk, ‘Blooming Sparrow,’ 2024, Porcelain and stoneware. 44 × 42 × 19.5 cm (17 3/10 × 16 1/2 × 7 7/10 in). Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

OM: Your practice is often described as expanding the “possibilities of porcelain,” especially in your recent sculptural installations. How has your technique evolved from your early years with clay to the intricate, large-scale porcelain works you make today? Were there breakthroughs or challenges that shaped this evolution?

MB: My practice has always been labor-intensive, and I’ve come to see that process as part of the work. Years of long studio hours naturally led to technical mastery. I’m pretty perfectionistic, which is why I stayed with porcelain rather than experimenting with other materials. It’s demanding and unpredictable — it can crack while drying, break before firing, or fail in the kiln — and its high-temperature firing causes chemical changes and shrinkage.

At first, accidents were frequent. Over time, experience taught me how to anticipate and work with these risks. When people ask, “How is this possible?” the answer is really years of patience and familiarity with the material. My curiosity continues to guide me, including my time in Jingdezhen, which deepened my technical understanding. The more fluent I become with porcelain, the more freely I can imagine through it.

Melis Buyruk in her studio, Istanbul, Turkey. 2025. Photo by Deniz Tapkan Cengiz, courtesy of the artist.

OM: In “Four Birds and One Soul,” you draw on the Masnavi story of the four birds, each symbolizing a part of the human soul. How did this narrative shape your approach to form and composition, and how do Persian and regional mythologies influence your imagination?

MB: In my “Habitat” series, I combine humans, plants, and animals to build imagined worlds, sometimes letting animals dominate and other times hiding them subtly. “Four Birds and One Soul” emerged naturally from this approach. After encountering the Masnavi story, I began viewing the four birds as inner states rather than symbols to illustrate. The work’s structure was influenced by traditional family portraits — intimate, memorable groupings — so I approached each bird as a portrait within the “Habitat” universe, placing them together to reflect emotions we confront or move beyond.

This connection grew from personal experience. I studied in Konya and still visit often. After one of these visits, while preparing the exhibition, I felt compelled to translate that encounter into my own visual language within the series.

Melis Buyruk working on one of her artworks at her studio in Istanbul, Turkey. 2025. Photo by Deniz Tapkan Cengiz, courtesy of the artist.

OM: Many describe your porcelain works as both fragile and commanding, rooted in nature yet otherworldly. What does porcelain let you express that other materials cannot, and how do its limits — fragility, translucency, precision — shape the emotional or symbolic qualities of your sculptures?

MB: Porcelain lives in our collective memory — we grow up with it in our homes and daily rituals — so it already carries meaning before I touch it. Its familiarity brings a quiet romance, while its fragility introduces vulnerability and emotional weight. I keep those qualities visible rather than hiding them.

Porcelain aligns with my interest in delicacy, precision, and attention, and it demands all three. It doesn’t just hold the form; it shapes how the work is experienced. Its familiarity draws viewers close, its fragility slows them down, and its cultural associations create an emotional resonance that becomes inseparable from my visual language.

Melis Buyruk, details of ‘Blooming Sparrow,’ 2024. Porcelain and stoneware, 44 × 42 × 19.5 cm (17 3/10 × 16 1/2 × 7 7/10 in). Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

OM: Contemporary ceramics has undergone a major shift in recent years, moving from a craft-centered discipline to a central part of the global contemporary art conversation. How do you see your own work positioned within this changing landscape, and what trends in the ceramic world feel meaningful — or challenging — to you?

MB: Over the past 15 to 20 years, ceramics has shifted significantly within the contemporary art world. When I began working with porcelain in the early 2010s, the medium was often viewed as decorative rather than conceptual, and it was rarely recognized as a category in open calls or exhibitions.

Today, that perception has changed. Ceramics has become part of the global contemporary art conversation, with artists from many disciplines engaging with the medium. Having witnessed this transformation firsthand, I find it encouraging, especially for younger generations.

Trends, however, have never shaped my practice. I continued working with porcelain even when it had little visibility. What feels most meaningful to me is the renewed appreciation for craftsmanship. I see technical mastery and conceptual thinking as inseparable, and my work exists precisely at that intersection.

Melis Buyruk, ‘The Blossom Within,’ 2025. Porcelain, 90 × 75 cm (35 2/5 × 29 1/2 in). Leila Heller Gallery. Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

OM: Several of your works have attracted international attention and entered significant collections, including the Louvre Abu Dhabi. Looking ahead, what new directions — in scale, material experimentation, narrative, or exhibition format — are you hoping to explore? Are there boundaries within porcelain you still want to push?

MB: I’m grateful for the international recognition my work has received, and the Louvre Abu Dhabi acquisition through Leila Heller Gallery was especially meaningful. Moving forward, I want to deepen the new series I’ve begun — expanding its colors and possibilities while continuing to work primarily with porcelain. I don’t feel the need to shift mediums; I’m more interested in stretching what porcelain itself can do.

Melis Buyruk, ‘The Peacock (Symbol of Pride and Vanity),’ 2024. Porcelain, 81 × 66 cm (31 9/10 × 26 in). Photo by Kayhan Kaygusuz, courtesy of the artist.

I also hope to increase my global presence through exhibitions, fairs, and biennials. This past year, I showed in Taiwan, South Korea, India, and China, and I’d like to continue building visibility in new locations with the right institutions and collections.

 

Written by Omid Memarian

A collapsing currency exposes the limits of Iran’s crisis management

Originally published on Global Voices

Protesters in Isfahan join the mass protests across Iran. Screenshot from video uploaded to X by @iranhrs99. Fair use.

This article was originally published in The New Arab on January 2, 2026. This edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a content partnership agreement. 

Small protests that began last Sunday in Tehran Grand Bazaar, at the heart of the Iranian capital, over another sharp fall in the national currency, have spread to several other cities, with reports of deaths and injuries in confrontations with police and security forces.

On December 31, the epicentre of the anti-regime protests was the southern city of Fasa, where demonstrators attacked the governor’s office. On the same day, according to the Revolutionary Guard, one pro-regime Basij militia member was killed in the western city of Kuhdasht in a confrontation with the protestors.

The next day, local media reported that three protestors were killed in the small western town of Azna, in Lorestan province, as they attempted to enter a police headquarters.

Before Fasa, protests were also reported in Isfahan, Malard, Hamedan, Arak and Qeshm. Iranian authorities have not released official figures on arrests, but videos and eyewitness accounts show clashes between protestors and security forces.

Currency collapse

The latest wave of protests began in Tehran’s Grand Bazaar, a traditional stronghold of conservative and religious groups. However, the Iranian rial fell to a record low on Sunday, December 28, prompting some traders to close their shops in protest against worsening economic conditions, with the US dollar trading at 1,450,000 Iranian rials on the open market.

The rate continued to change sharply over the following days, making it hard for traders to set prices. As a result, the bazaar strike continued on Monday and Tuesday.

A trader in Tehran’s carpet market, who asked not to be named for security reasons, said the lack of stability made business impossible.

“Trade needs a minimum level of stability, which does not exist right now,” he told “The New Arab.”

He added that the costs of raw materials, wages, transport, rent, and other expenses are all linked to the dollar exchange rate, and rapid changes make pricing and sales impossible.

The trader rejected claims by government-linked media that shop closures were forced by “agitators,” saying traders themselves chose to draw officials’ attention.

“Even if we keep our shops open, we cannot work,” he said. “Because of pressure from security forces, the bazaar will likely reopen on Saturday, but we will only sit in our shops and not trade until the exchange rate becomes stable.”

Rising unrest

The government responded to the strike by closing public offices and commercial centres in Tehran and several other cities on Wednesday. Officials cited cold weather as the reason. Iran’s weekend falls on Thursday and Friday, effectively keeping markets closed until Saturday.

On Tuesday, officials met with trade groups’ leaders, promising tax breaks, a pause on tax fines and access to subsidised foreign currency for imports in an effort to calm traders.

The same day, Mohammad Reza Farzin resigned as governor of the Central Bank of Iran. He had taken the role in December 2022 after Ali Salehabadi stepped down following a sharp fall in the rial. At that time, the dollar was trading at 435,000 rials.

An economist who, in an interview that year, warned that changing central bank leadership would not stop the rial’s decline, repeated the same view after Farzin’s resignation.

“It does not matter who leads the central bank,” he explained. “As long as corruption controls the economy, this situation will continue.”

He said international sanctions on Iran’s oil, gas and petrochemical exports, as well as the risk of a new conflict between Iran and Israel, were adding to economic instability, currency weakness and inflation.

He also said political isolation has hurt Iran’s economy and increased public anger.

“People are no longer protesting only for political or personal freedoms,” he said. “Many cannot afford food for their families, and responding to them with riot police will not solve the problem.”

The economist said it was unclear whether the protests would spread further, but noted that the Tehran Bazaar strike was likely to end due to the bazaar’s close ties to the regime.

“The bazaar has long supported the religious and conservative system,” he said. “For this reason, President Masoud Pezeshkian’s government and bazaar leaders are likely to reach an agreement. But whether protests grow will depend on how harshly protestors are suppressed and how united opposition groups remain.”

Written by The New Arab

‘The same kids who compete at the table tennis table are now competing to plant more trees’

Originally published on Global Voices

Young members of the table tennis association of Khorrambid county during a tree planting session. Photo courtesy of the author.

By Hosein Gharibnavaz

Safashahr, a small city in the mountainous north of Fars province in Iran, faces the same problems as many other parts of the country: a worsening water crisis and increasing environmental degradation. 

As drought intensifies and local ecosystems come under pressure, public spaces are becoming drier and more fragile, especially in nearby rural areas.

Tree-planting team from the table tennis association of Khorrambid county, Iran. Photo courtesy of the author.

Two years ago, when I became head of the table tennis association of Khorrambid County, my main task was to build basic sports infrastructure and develop the sport professionally. 

At the same time, we decided that the association should not focus solely on training athletes but also on motivating our players and their families to take environmental action in our community.

Since then, we have organized several volunteer activities that link table tennis with local environmental work. These have included “plastic‑free hall” campaigns in our training venues and the construction of small water troughs for wildlife around the city. 

Wild almond and wild pistachio seeds being prepared for planting in the Nobekuh area. Photo courtesy of the author.

Our most recent gathering took place in the Nobekuh area, near the village of Dehbid, where we focused on tree planting. In cooperation with the local Department of Natural Resources, more than 200 residents joined this event, including many of our young table tennis players and their families. 

Volunteer preparing the soil for seed planting. Photo courtesy of the author.

Together, we planted 400 drought‑resistant trees, mainly wild almond and arjan, species that can survive the region’s harsh, low‑water conditions. For many of the children, it was the first time they had planted a tree with their own hands in the mountains they usually only see from a distance.

“The same kids who compete at the table tennis table are now competing to plant more trees,” said one local parent, laughing as she watched her son carry a sapling up the hill. “It has changed how they look at our land,” she added.  

Volunteers before beginning the seed-planting activity in Khorrambid County, Fars Province

The atmosphere was joyful and emotional. Families told us they felt they were “giving something back” to the land, and many of the young players said they now saw the surrounding hills and forests as part of their responsibility, not just as scenery. 

Several participants asked when the next action would be, and suggested creating a small community forest over the coming years. These environmental activities will continue as the number of table tennis players grows. 

A volunteer planting seeds in the dry soil of the Nobekuh area. Photo courtesy of the author.

In the coming weeks, our association plans to sign a memorandum of understanding with the local Department of Environment to formalise these joint actions and demonstrate that even a small sports association in a remote county can help protect nature while building a stronger community.

Written by Guest Contributor

Online harm is shaping public life as strongly as offline violence

Originally published on Global Voices

Image by Chad Madden on Unsplash. (Free to use).

For Kgomotso Modise, a South African journalist covering courts and criminal justice, online harassment has become a daily reality. “The insults are very sexual,” she explains to Global Voices in an interview, noting that her male colleagues expressing similar views never face comparable abuse. Her opinions are routinely sexualized and delegitimized. When she posted content criticizing extrajudicial killings in her country, the backlash escalated into a violation: trolls retrieved childhood photos from her Facebook account and posted them alongside threats of sexual violence against her and her underage niece.

But the harm extends far beyond individual journalists. Cybercrime accounts for more than 30 percent of all reported crime in West and East Africa, according to Interpol’s 2025 Africa Cyberthreat Assessment Report. Two-thirds of African member countries surveyed said that cyber-related crimes accounted for a medium-to-high share of all crimes, with online scams, ransomware, business email compromise, and digital sextortion among the most reported threats. Digital threats now reach ordinary users, public institutions, and essential services, creating conditions where intimidation and harmful content can spread easily.

Across Africa, Reporters Without Borders has documented sustained online harassment and surveillance targeting women journalists in Africa, noting that digital abuse has become an emerging barrier to press freedom. This year’s 16 Days of Activism (November 25 to December 10) against gender-based violence (GBV) comes at a time when online harm is shaping public life as much as offline violence. Women who comment on public issues, work in journalism, or engage in civic life face increasing hostility that limits their participation.

Technology-facilitated violence as part of GBV

When I launched the Digital Dada podcast, I wanted to create a space where women journalists could speak openly about their experiences. What I discovered through interviewing dozens of colleagues is that online violence has become one of the fastest-growing forms of gender-based harm in Kenya and across Africa. It manifests as threats, cyberstalking, impersonation, intrusive monitoring, and manipulated content designed to shame or silence women.

Every single journalist I’ve interviewed has faced online abuse. The attacks range from targeted harassment and cyberbullying to coordinated trolling campaigns and deeply gendered assaults. Their visibility as women in the media makes them especially vulnerable, turning their online presence into a frequent site for hostility and misogyny.

The escalation is terrifying. UN Women warns that what starts small on screens, a message, a comment, or a post, can spiral into a torrent of threats and violence in real life. Private photos are taken without consent, false claims spread within seconds, locations are tracked, and artificial intelligence tools are used to produce deepfakes aimed at shaming and silencing women.

I've documented the toll. A television news anchor shared that she began to self-censor because of the fear of continued victimization. Another disclosed that she sought therapy following extreme trolling. Another reported that attacks escalated beyond her, extending to her husband and children. Several journalists have made the difficult decision to deactivate their social media accounts entirely to safeguard their mental well-being.

When journalists self-censor, society loses. Freedom of information is jeopardized. These are not isolated incidents; they are systematic attacks designed to push women out of public discourse.

Voices from the Luanda summit

Digital safety featured prominently at the recent African Union-European Union Summit in Luanda, Zambia. In an interview during the meeting, Ambassador Liberata Mulamula, special envoy to the chairperson of the African Union Commission on Women, Peace and Security, described digital violence as a new threat to peace and security and noted that online spaces can be especially harsh for women in leadership. She spoke openly about the emotional strain caused by persistent abuse, and encouraged women to remain visible online. She stated, “We have mobilised women to use the media and not fear it, because our voices must be heard.” She added that the African Union has created a network of women media professionals to counter misinformation and support survivors of online harm.

She also pointed to the African Union’s adoption of its first convention on ending violence against women and girls. She said that implementation must place cybersecurity at the centre and noted that the African Union Women, Peace and Security Forum in Tunisia, which was held on Dec 9 and 10, would address digital violence directly. 

Ambassador Henriette Geiger, ambassador of the European Union to Kenya and permanent representative to UNEP and UN-Habitat, highlighted the need for stronger cybersecurity capacity as countries digitize essential services. She said the European Union and Kenya are engaged in a data adequacy dialogue to align Kenya’s data protection standards with those of the EU. If successful, she added, Kenya could become a trusted digital hub capable of processing sensitive data securely. Together, the remarks showed a shared recognition that safer digital spaces are essential for women’s participation, equality, and the future of digital cooperation between Africa and Europe.

Why the crisis is growing and what must change

The rapid expansion of internet access has increased exposure to harmful content. Interpol warns that online threats now target ordinary users and public institutions, making harmful narratives difficult to control. Local reporting shows similar trends. A recent report in Kenya found that many Kenyan women have withdrawn from digital platforms after experiencing harassment linked to political and social discussions. Survivors described feeling unsafe even offline, noting that digital abuse often follows them into their homes. Women seeking political office face the same pressures. A briefing by the Westminster Foundation for Democracy found that candidates face impersonation, doxxing, cyberstalking, and image manipulation intended to discourage them from entering public life.

Weak reporting systems and inconsistent policy enforcement add to the problem. Although Kenya has data protection and cybercrime laws, many survivors do not receive timely support, and this is the norm in most African countries. Platforms often remove harmful content slowly, and clear reporting pathways remain limited. These gaps allow online violence to spread even as more services move online.

Improving cybersafety requires stronger support services, better platform responses, and clearer mechanisms for reporting incidents. Digital literacy programmes can help users understand safer practices, particularly in rural and low-income communities. Platforms must strengthen their tools for identifying abuse and responding more effectively. Policy frameworks in most African nations provide foundations, but consistent enforcement and adequate resources are needed. Regional cooperation can also support better cybersecurity standards and shared knowledge of emerging threats.

This year’s 16 Days of Activism highlighted the need to recognise digital violence as real violence, and remind the public that there is #NoExcuse for online abuse.

Written by Cecilia Maundu

Sharghi’s journey reveals a constant dialogue between discipline and rebellion

Originally published on Global Voices

Soraya Sharghi, ‘Rising with the Song of Nymphs,’ 2021. Acrylic on canvas, 152,4 x 236,2 cm (60 x 93 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

In her most recent exhibition, “Sculpture and Painting,” presented at 24 Avenue Matignon in Paris during Art Basel’s October 2025 week, Iranian-American artist Soraya Sharghi gathered recent bronze, ceramic, and painting works in a single, immersive environment. 

In this presentation, Sharghi unveiled a luminous universe where mythology, memory, and material intertwine. Through hybrid figures that seem to rise from fire and color, she explores the feminine not as muse but as a generative force. Works such as “Rising with the Song of Nymphs” and her hand-shaped ceramic guardians create a continuum between painting and sculpture, where myth is reimagined as a language of survival and rebirth.

Born in 1988 in Tehran and now based in New York, Sharghi studied at the San Francisco Art Institute, where she began experimenting simultaneously with painting, sculpture, and installation. As a child, she invented elaborate stories and imaginary characters for her younger sister, narratives that later became the foundation of her visual universe. “Imagination comes naturally in childhood,” she says, “and I’ve made sure never to lose that. It still drives the way I work today.”

Soraya Sharghi working on her bronze sculpture in China, 2025. Photo by Lei Jianzhong, courtesy of the artist.

Her art, she explains, is a form of reclamation and protection: “Growing up in Iran, imagination became my refuge. Surrealism was not just an artistic influence; it was a way of surviving reality.” In her visual lexicon, myth becomes autobiography; every hybrid heroine is a self-created guardian of endurance, shaped by restriction, migration, and the continuous negotiation of womanhood.

Sharghi’s journey reveals a constant dialogue between discipline and rebellion. Her intricate surfaces, radiant chromatic palette, and densely worked compositions echo, in spirit, the emotionally charged figuration of artists like Niki de Saint Phalle, Hayv Kahraman and Emma Talbot, who likewise weave myth, textural pattern, and feminine subjectivity into contemporary narratives. Yet Sharghi’s voice remains unmistakably her own — unflinchingly personal, intellectually grounded, and spiritually charged.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘Rising Nymphs,’ 2025. Painted on glazed porcelain, high-fired at 1280°C. 37 x 34 x 34 cm (14.57 x 13.39 x 13.39 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

Speaking of her multi-material approach, Sharghi says, “Each material carries its own energy and teaches me something new… together they form a map of my spiritual evolution.” In this interview with Global Voices, Soraya reflects on imagination, hybridity, mythmaking, the politics and poetics of the female body, and the alchemy of clay, fire, and color that continues to shape her expanding universe.

Excerpts of the interview follow: 

Omid Memarian (OM): You often describe your art as a continuation of the imaginative worlds you created in childhood. Can you tell us about those early experiences growing up in Iran, what drew you to storytelling and visual expression, and how those early moments continue to shape your creative universe today?

Soraya Sharghi (SS): Since childhood, I’ve always created worlds of my own. I used to invent imaginary characters and tell stories to my younger sister so vividly that she believed they were real. In many ways, I’m still that same person, only now I have more tools and languages to express those ideas. Imagination comes naturally in childhood, and I’ve made sure never to lose that. It still drives the way I work today.

When I discovered visual art, it became the safest way to express myself without being fully read. I could encode feelings and stories into symbols and gestures, communicating through images rather than words.

Growing up in Iran, in a culture where girls were often told what they could or could not say, wear, or dream, imagination became my refuge. Surrealism was not just an artistic influence; it was a way of surviving reality.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘Out of Realm,’ 2017. Acrylic on canvas, 137.16 × 137.16 cm (54 x 54 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: How did your experience at the San Francisco Art Institute influence or transform your artistic practice? Looking back, what would you approach differently now after years of independent exploration?

SS: Studying at the San Francisco Art Institute opened a door to seeing myself from the outside. It was the first time anyone had asked me, ‘Who are you? What was your childhood like?’ I had to define myself beyond geography, language, and expectation. That process made me look at my culture from a distance — its poetry, its places, its complexities — with deeper understanding and renewed curiosity.

At SFAI, I was known for being ambitious. Even when the assignment was simple, I would push the limits of what was possible, experimenting with complex forms, mixing materials, and demanding more from myself. I explored painting, sculpture, and installation simultaneously, not knowing yet how they would merge. That experimental mindset still shapes my practice today.

At that time, I began exploring the female body in my work not as a subject of nudity or provocation, but as a space of emotion and healing. It was about reclaiming presence and voice, transforming experiences of restriction into freedom. My art became a process of healing and self-discovery, a way to turn silence into strength.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘The Resolution of Eve (Eve 15),’ 2020. Acrylic on canvas, 198.12 × 114.30 cm (78 x 45 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: Your practice moves fluidly between painting, drawing, sculpture, and ceramics. How did this shift across media begin, and what new possibilities did each material open for you in terms of form, storytelling, and spiritual resonance?

SS: I grew up surrounded by limitations, which is why I naturally resist them. Crossing between media feels like crossing between worlds, an act of freedom. Each material carries its own energy and teaches me something new.

Clay taught me patience and surrender. You can’t control fire; it decides what survives. Working with clay showed me that perfection is fragile and that loss can also be beautiful. Painting, on the other hand, is like facing yourself directly; it demands honesty. I believe a strong painter can do anything, because painting teaches you to see and to listen deeply.

Even when I sculpt, I think as a painter. I use glazes like pigments, layering them as if painting with fire. I love breaking rules; the chemists would tell me what not to do, and I would do it anyway, following intuition over formula. It’s that tension between discipline and rebellion that gives my work life.

Every material becomes a language for a different emotion; together, they form a map of my spiritual evolution.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘The Thinker,’ 2023-2024, Acrylic on canvas, 226.6 x 183 cm (89.21 × 72.05 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: This year, you spent a few months in China and began to explore ceramics more deeply, experimenting with material processes and cross-cultural influences. How did working in that context shape your understanding of clay and craftsmanship?

SS: When I arrived in Jingdezhen, China, the ancient city of porcelain, I was carrying many emotions, especially as war and unrest were unfolding in Iran. I spent my first weeks in silence, letting my hands speak through clay. The rough, raw textures that appeared on my female figures came directly from that state, pressing, coiling, almost sculpting my emotions into form.

Jingdezhen was transformative. The city breathes clay; every family, every street carries that energy of making. People there had such humility and devotion to their craft. Each artisan mastered one small gesture with perfection; it was deeply spiritual.

It wasn’t only about learning technique; it was about listening to clay, to silence, to the rhythm of making. In China, I learned to slow down, to let the material lead me. The people’s energy, pure, generous, grounded, reminded me that mastery is not control, it’s harmony.

‘I,’ 2025. Bronze. Soraya Sharghi: ‘A material I've long dreamed of working with for its permanence, weight, and history. This sculpture is called ‘I,’ a self-portrait in many forms, holding all the characters, emotions, and imagined beings that live inside me. An archive of inner voice, forged in fire.’ Photo by Lei Jianzhong, courtesy of the artist.

OM: Your works depict hybrid female figures that merge human, animal, and mythological attributes. How did you arrive at this mythopoetic visual language, and how does it reflect your lived experience as an Iranian woman navigating multiple worlds?

SS: Mythology has always been close to me. Growing up in Iran, myths were everywhere, stories of angels, heroes, and gods that shaped how we saw the world. But as a woman, I was always told who to be within those stories. So I started rewriting them.

My figures are self-created myths, hybrid guardians who protect, transform, and evolve. They often carry both beauty and pain, because that’s how survival feels. Growing up, I learned to change shapes to adapt, to mask, to survive. That transformation became my visual language.

Iran itself is surreal, a place of contradictions where dreams and restrictions coexist. My work channels that paradox, creating new beings that belong to no nation or time. They are every woman who has had to become many things to exist freely.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘She holds, she continues,’ 2025. Painted on glazed porcelain, high-fired at 1280°C. 37 x 34 x 34 cm (14.57 x 13.39 x 13.39 inches]. Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: Your recent ceramic works reimagine Sofal-e Berjasteh, the ancient Persian embossed-glazed pottery tradition. How did you revive and transform this technique in your own practice? 

SS: In my ceramic practice, I explore several different techniques. One is the Sofal-e Berjasteh-inspired work, which is an entirely new and separate process from my other clay pieces. Another includes my sculptural figures, female heads and torsos shaped by hand, where I leave the rough textures and my fingerprints visible. I also experiment with painting on vessels and forms, using glazes like watercolors to achieve layered, fluid surfaces. Each method opens a different dialogue between tradition, body, and emotion.

A few years ago, in Isfahan, I came across simple old ceramic cups that I had seen since childhood but never truly looked at. This time, they spoke to me. I became fascinated by their embossed glaze, “Sofal-e Berjasteh”, and imagined translating my paintings into this ancient craft. Since then, I had been dreaming of creating such a piece, and finally, I did.

I painted with glazes like mosaic-like colors, building the image shape by shape, entirely by hand, and creating this piece was a complete joy.

Clay remembers touch; it holds your presence long after you’re gone. The cracks, the pressure marks, even the broken pieces, they all become part of the story. Working with clay is like working with life itself: you shape it, it resists, and together you become something new.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘The Story of a Triumph,’ 2020. Acrylic on canvas, 121.92 × 187.96 cm (48 x 74 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: Your latest exhibition features monumental ceramic sculptures and hand-shaped figures that seem to rise from fire and survive it. What does this new body of work represent for you in terms of courage, vulnerability, and creative risk?

SS: This body of work was born from fire. Clay can only find its strength through burning. That process mirrors my own journey as a woman and artist, facing pressure, loss, and transformation until something new emerges.

These sculptures embody survival. They are spirits that rise from destruction and continue to sing. Each crack or glaze run becomes a testimony to endurance. I see them as self-portraits of resilience, vulnerable, yet unbreakable.

Creating them required courage because I had to let go of control and trust the elements. Fire became my collaborator. It tested my patience, my ego, my sense of perfection. What remained after the firing was the essence, truth stripped of pretense. That’s what this series is about: rising, not untouched, but reborn.

Soraya Sharghi, ‘Rise of the Rainbow From the Marsh’ 2022. Acrylic on canvas, 139.7 x 223.52 cm (55 x 88 in). Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM: In “Rising with the Song of Nymphs” (2022), memory, myth, and childhood merge into a cosmic tableau. How did this work evolve, and what does its connection to Wordsworth’s “Ode: Intimations of Immortality” reveal about your relationship to time, imagination, and rebirth?

SS: “Rising with the Song of Nymphs” is about remembering the language of the soul. When I read Wordsworth’s “Ode: Intimations of Immortality,” I felt deeply connected to his idea that childhood is a sacred memory, a place where we once saw the divine clearly, before forgetting it.

The idea for this painting actually came from an old traditional Iranian children’s game that I used to play. In this game, children form a circle while one girl sits in the middle, often pretending to cry, and the others sing for her to rise and rejoin the group. The game has many local variations across Iran and traces back to ancient ritual and performative traditions, part play, part symbolic enactment of emotion, separation, and reunion. The circle represents community; the central figure embodies longing, loss, or transformation; and when she finally stands, it becomes a moment of healing and rebirth.

Long after creating the painting, I came across Wordsworth’s poem, and it resonated so deeply. It expressed exactly what the painting had already revealed to me: that imagination is a bridge to that early, divine connection we once felt in childhood.

In this work, the nymphs represent both innocence and wisdom; they rise from memory like guardians of light. The painting became a conversation between my past and present selves, between myth and rebirth.

Some of the ceramic pieces in the exhibition carry this same spirit; their painted surfaces were inspired by “Rising with the Song of Nymphs,” echoing its imagery and rhythm in a new material form. Through clay and fire, those visions became tangible, as if fragments of the painting found a second life in three dimensions.

Soraya Sharghi at her studio in New York, working on ‘Rise of the rainbow from the marsh,’ 2023. Photo courtesy of the artist.

OM:  In “She Holds, She Continues” (2025), the figure appears as both protector and creator. How does this work speak to endurance, transformation, and the feminine as a generative force?

SS: In “She Holds, She Continues,” the female figure is not passive; she is the source. She carries the weight of creation and the tenderness of care. Her gesture of holding is both an embrace and an act of power.

The imagery and characters evolved from “Rising with the Song of Nymphs,” which features girls holding hands in a circle as symbols of unity, rebirth, and feminine strength. Now, these themes are expressed in a new form through a ceramic technique I developed. This technique involves thousands of small, hand-shaped elements, each resembling a brushstroke, a cell, or a heartbeat, which merge to create a vibrant, living surface.

The initial spark came from Naghsh-e Berjasteh, the Persian embossed-design tradition, but I transformed its spirit into something my own. While inspired by the sense of relief and layered texture, the technique and visual language are new.

Through this process, the figures rise again, transformed by fire, yet still connected by touch. The work speaks to the generative force of the feminine — how creation continues quietly and powerfully through repetition, care, and persistence.

Written by Omid Memarian