Growing up in the enchanting town of Jounieh in Keserwan, Mount Lebanon, has always held a special place in my heart. Every visit to Lebanon inevitably includes a stop in Jounieh to see my uncle Fares. This connection likely stems from the fact that I was born there on December 8, 1975, and spent my early childhood navigating its narrow streets, visiting the shops, and experiencing the infrequent but thrilling train rides. But perhaps the most significant reason is that my first encounters with the sea were there, an experience my village, lacking both trains and coastline, could not offer.

From 1975 until 1982, my life was deeply rooted in my town Ain Zhalta. These were the formative years before displacement uprooted our family, a fate shared by many Christians from the Chouf and Aley districts during that tumultuous period. My earliest memories are intertwined with my father’s butcher shop and slaughterhouse, where I frequently visited. He would leave at the break of dawn to butcher parts of the flocks I tended with a blend of care and apprehension. Despite some bruising encounters with the livestock, my fondness for them never wavered.

Visits to the homes of my aunts, Soad and Hind, who were married to two brothers of Zakhour`s family, and my aunt Layla and her husband Farid, are etched in my memory. These visits were filled with familial warmth, like the time Farid insisted I ride a mule back from the forest, or when they tended to my injured eye after an explosive accident during a religious celebration.

The Israeli invasion of 1982 was a pivotal moment, bringing destruction, fear, and a subsequent forced migration to Jounieh. In Jounieh, our family of five lived with my uncle Fares, his family of five, and my aunts Mary and Antoinette, along with my grandmother Georgette, all in a small two-bedroom house. We made do with foam mattresses donated by organizations aiding the displaced. For three years, my family stayed with my uncle, while I spent one of those years with my aunt Asin in Sarba, attending school with my cousin Naji and playing with my other cousins.

During these years, I learned to play football in the streets and engaged in various childhood games. My first public speaking experience was during my first communion at the Central School in Jounieh. These years also taught me the value of money through small purchases and introduced me to many desires, from different types of cheese and chocolates to clothes and toys. It was a time of many questions, with answers that would come much later, and a growing sense of wanting to seek revenge.

In 1985, we moved to a tiny apartment in Dora, Beirut. Despite its small size, it became our own space where we played football, basketball, and wrestling, enjoying the freedom of not having to adhere to strict social etiquettes. My father’s management of his savings allowed us to continue our education at the Central School for two more years, commuting by school bus between Dora and Jounieh. However, as the savings depleted, my father had to abandon his hope of returning to our village and instead partnered with my uncle Shouki to open a butcher shop in Jdeideh. Unfortunately, this venture was plagued by the fallout from the Chernobyl disaster, which affected meat imports and sales, coupled with local competition. This failure led my father to work as an employee for the first time in his life at a supermarket in Antelias until he suffered a heart attack in 1990, passing away two weeks later.

The years following his death were marked by discovery and resilience. We endured various wars, moving from one shelter to another, transitioning from private to public education. I was hit by a car on the Dora highway, leading to a 40-day recovery period. Our financial situation worsened, but my determination to overcome our circumstances grew stronger.

After my father’s passing, everything changed. The color of life darkened, and answers became elusive. I was thrust into a responsibility I hadn’t prepared for. Writing this brings tears, as it’s not easy to relive the bitterness of those years. I completed my education at the Jdeideh Secondary School, barely passing my final exams on the second attempt. I briefly studied mathematics at university but soon left to work as an electrician, a trade I mastered and used to support myself through my political science studies at the Faculty of Law and Political Science.

A year away from education convinced me to return, and I discovered a passion for philosophy. My journey took a significant turn in 2003 when I joined LBC as a trainee, eventually moving to the United States to work with Alhurra in 2004. I married, had a daughter named Andrea, and balanced work, study, and family life. I earned a master’s degree and later a doctorate in 2011.

In 2012, I moved to Doha, Qatar, where I continued my writing journey, publishing four books. This book is my way of exacting revenge on life, a testament to helping others find their path. It’s the legacy I’m most proud of, representing my triumph over adversity and my pursuit of sustainable happiness.

Today, I share my philosophy of happiness, having built a life of joy and fulfillment despite the challenges.