Latest from Identity
Identity
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Identity
Shkoon Drops ‘Greater Than One (Remixes)' EP, Giving ‘Mili,' ‘Souf,' and ‘Jadal' a Second Life
Shkoon just released Greater Than One (Remixes), a three-track EP that hands over their original work to a trio of international producers, each offering a fresh perspective on the group's blend of Arabic soul and electronic depth. Out via MDLBEAST Records, the EP kicks off with Berlin-based AWEN's moody, cinematic take on 'Mili', layering rich synths and deep bass around the track's emotional core. Lebanese-Nigerian producer Imad reimagines 'Souf' through an Afrohouse lens, building a rhythmic pulse that bridges his cultural roots and Shkoon's signature tension. Closing the release is Danish producer Nandu, who transforms 'Jadal' into a hypnotic, progressive house journey, stretching the original into a slow-burning, layered ascent. Each remix stands on its own while expanding the emotional and sonic language of Shkoon's Greater Than One album — a project already rooted in cultural fusion and introspection.
Identity
3 days ago
- Business
- Identity
PepsiCo Egypt Launches 'Pepsi Stars' in Partnership with Right to Dream and PepsiCo Foundation to Develop the Next Generation of Football Talent
PepsiCo Egypt announced the launch of 'Pepsi Stars', a groundbreaking football development program in partnership with global football academy Right to Dream and supported by the PepsiCo Foundation, the philanthropic arm of PepsiCo. With an aggregate investment of EGP 200 million over the next three years, this bold initiative aims to identify and empower Egypt's next generation of football talent by providing an integrated platform that combines state-of-the-art infrastructure, fully equipped training centers, elite sports coaching, academic education, and personal development.
Identity
4 days ago
- General
- Identity
Is Overthinking the Real Reason Things Fall Apart in a Relationship?
Relationships come with their fair share of challenges. From the early days of getting to know each other's quirks to the more serious stages of commitment, and eventually, the very real complexities of marriage. There's always something to navigate. And while many of these phases bring natural bumps in the road, most are manageable. They can be talked through, understood, and adapted to with time and patience. But there's one thing that often pushes couples to the edge more than anything else: overthinking. You might already be recalling a friend—or maybe even yourself—who let spiraling thoughts slowly chip away at what could have been a meaningful relationship. It's that constant analysis of every word, every gesture, every moment. 'Did they really mean that?' 'Are they even serious about me?' 'Was that stingy… or just a moment?' It's okay to think things through. In fact, reflection is healthy, especially when stepping into something serious with someone. But when every situation is filtered through doubt or worst-case assumptions, the relationship starts to suffer. Overthinking creates stories in your head that might not even exist in reality, and those stories become walls between two people who are supposed to know each other by heart. Whether you're on the giving or receiving end of this, there's one thing that can almost always cut through the noise: honesty. If something is weighing on you, speak up gently, kindly, and clearly. Transparency doesn't mean confrontation. It means you're giving the relationship a fair shot by choosing clarity over silent suspicion. Don't ruin something that has real potential just because you're trying to find the 'perfect' answer to questions you've never even asked. Overthinking may feel like control, but in the end, it only controls you.
Identity
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Identity
Why Music Collabs Across the Arab World Matter More Than Ever
In 2025, Arab music is no longer confined by borders, or genres, or dialects, or even expectations. A new wave of collaboration is sweeping across the region, not as a passing trend, but as a cultural, strategic, and emotional necessity. Artists are no longer just making music, they're building bridges in a region that desperately needs connection. For decades, the Arab world's music scenes functioned in silos. Moroccan rap lived in Casablanca. Khaleeji pop stayed in the Gulf. Levantine indie barely made it beyond Beirut. Even the biggest stars often catered only to local audiences, shaped by fragmented media ecosystems and limited industry infrastructure. But those rules are dissolving, and fast. The shift isn't just about the sound. It's about who the music reaches and what it represents. When Amr Diab and Cheb Khaled dropped 'Albi,' it wasn't just two icons collaborating, it was Egypt and Algeria, two giants with decades of history and distinct sonic legacies, coming together in one track. It was a rare moment of musical diplomacy: pop met rai, nostalgia met evolution, and fans across North Africa and the Levant tuned in to a shared moment. That sense of shared identity feels even more powerful in tracks like 'Kalamantina,' where Saint Levant's smooth, diaspora-inflected flow collided with Marwan Moussa's sharp Egyptian cadence. It wasn't just a song, it was a conversation between worlds. Every listener could find a piece of themselves in the mix. And that's the point. Arab youth today aren't defined by national borders. They're fluid, global, political, polyglot, and their playlists reflect it. Collaboration now is more than creativity. It's a form of resistance. In a region where politics, censorship, and media often divide, music has become one of the few spaces where unity feels possible. When artists collaborate across countries, they unlock access, not just to fanbases, but to stages, festivals, and charts that would otherwise remain closed. Music now travels faster than policy. A producer in Beirut can DM a rapper in Casablanca, send a beat to Riyadh, and drop the song on TikTok the next day. The internet has erased the logistical excuses. What's left is choice, and artists are choosing each other. Most importantly, they're responding to demand. Arab Gen Z isn't passively consuming music; they're driving it. They want stories that reflect their reality: not neatly packaged national identities, but messy, mixed, multilingual ones. The success of these collaborations shows that fans are ahead of the industry. They're not asking for representation, they're curating it. So why do collaborations across the Arab world matter more than ever? Because they reflect the future that Arab youth are already living. Because they offer unity in a time of fracture. Because they bypass the broken and build something new. And because they prove, again and again, that even in a region of difference, the beat still brings us back to each other.
Identity
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- Identity
4 Egyptian Films That Hit Way Harder in Your Twenties
There's something no one tells you about your twenties: it's not some perfectly edited montage of 'figuring it all out.' It's more like jumping between jobs, cities, situationships, and Spotify playlists that no longer hit, and somehow, you're still thinking this might be the year everything makes sense. It's laughing hysterically in a car at midnight with people you're not sure will be in your life next year. It's the awkward weddings, the messy group chats, the friendships that quietly fade, and the late-night deep talks that remind you you're not completely lost and somewhere along the way, movies you once watched for fun suddenly feel personal. The friend group in Aw2at Faragh? That could've been yours. The creative frustration in Microphone? Too real. The emotional tension in Sahar El Layali? You've lived it and A7la El Aw2at? It makes you want to text that one person who knew you before the chaos. These films don't offer solutions, but they do make you feel seen and in your twenties, sometimes that's enough. Tell us which movie captures your twenties the most. Aw2at Faragh (2006) You probably watched it as a teenager and thought it was just about reckless youth and bad decisions. But in your twenties, it feels more like a mirror of the aimlessness, the quiet identity crises, and that sinking feeling of having too many choices and no clue what you're doing. It's not just a film about boredom, it's about what boredom turns into when you're lost, disconnected, and desperate to feel something real. Microphone (2010) For anyone who's ever tried to turn passion into purpose and felt that life was getting in their way, this movie is for you. Microphone isn't just about underground art and music. It's about that familiar urge to build something real in a place that doesn't always know what to do with dreamers. The film is quiet, unassuming, but emotionally loaded like all the times you've tried to make meaning out of chaos. Watching it in your twenties feels personal. It's not about making it big; it's about making it at all. Sahar El Layaly (2003) Because every friendship group has a point where things quietly start to fall apart, Sahar El Layaly feels like a love letter to the relationships you thought would last forever until they didn't. It's the unspoken tensions, the unresolved fights. The weight of things we never say but always feel. You watch it differently in your twenties not as someone judging the characters, but as someone realizing you are them. This film is about marriage, friendship, and betrayal but mostly it's about how easily everything can change. And how growing up sometimes means growing apart. A7la El Aw2at (2004) A film that proves the best times don't always look like it when you're in them. It's about three women trying to navigate love, grief, friendship, and identity, basically, every woman in her twenties. What makes it hit harder now is how real it feels. Messy, layered, intimate. The kind of film that doesn't offer answers, just reflections. It's about the women you become because of heartbreak, not despite it. About how old friendships resurface, how love is rarely convenient, and how healing never comes in a straight line. It's soft, raw, and strangely comforting. Being in your twenties is like watching these films: sometimes you don't get the plot, sometimes the characters frustrate you, and sometimes you cry in scenes that aren't even supposed to be sad. But somewhere in all of that, you realize you're not the only one figuring it out on the go.
