Why I have to tell my story

One year ago, my home was bombed on live TV.

“Hassan, knock it off with the politics.”

“Hassan, you can’t just name-drop A-list investors and call them out.”

“Hassan, you’re probably on a black book somewhere in Silicon Valley now.”

I’ve heard these statements come out of friends, family, and people I have massive respect for. It always came from a place of concern, worried that my public political opinions might damage my career or livelihood.

And when I don’t hear words, I feel the discomfort in any room I speak out in.

Obviously calling out Israeli genocide is not going to bring me more MRR, make my ventures more successful, or hand me any spotlight. In fact, I had to withdraw from YC after Garry Tan decided to side with genocide.

Justice isn’t a taboo topic. Justice is a story of a people fighting for freedom.

But this whole story was never about me. It’s about the 12 year old me in Lebanon who was told by society and the world that there exists a limit, an imaginary border, and an evil gate keeping me from my dreams. More importantly, that 12 year old was told that if I were to make it, I have to do it at the expense of my identity, my culture, and at the very literal ashes of my home.

I say the things I say today and do the things I do so the next 12 year old from Tyre, Lebanon can know that they can achieve their dreams without compromising themselves.

We are creative. We are smart. We are resourceful.

I went from hustling websites in the streets of Tyre, to learning nuclear physics, to leading a successful tech and entrepreneurship career. More importantly, I did it my way. I kept my integrity throughout. Every time I spoke up when it was the “inconvenient” thing to do, I spoke up for every 12 year old in Tyre.

And everytime someone asks me to lower my voice, I’ll speak louder.

I’m on my own journey in a beautiful world trying to make a small, meaningful, and intentional dent in the universe.

May the rays of freedom shine upon us all.