Reemiskitchen

Fourteen years since I last walked the streets of Jeddah: the city where I was born and the city that held my childhood in its warm, salty air.
My first time going back without my family. Without my father. And I don’t think anything prepares you for returning home when one of the people who was your home is no longer there.
I went to perform Umrah, to visit the Prophet's mosque in Madinah and to show my husband the place where I grew up. But deep down, I was also going to look for pieces of myself. The little girl who sat in the passenger seat next to her dad, driving through familiar streets. The memories we built in places that, in some cases, don’t even exist anymore.
Jeddah is unrecognisable in so many ways. New buildings stretch into the sky. New roads map out a different rhythm. The high speed train now connects it to Makkah and Madinah. There’s a café on every corner, open until the early hours. Women are driving. Thriving. The city feels open, evolving, bold.

Every street carried a memory. Every turn felt like déjà vu. It was beautiful and it was heavy. Bittersweet in the deepest sense of the word.
What made it gentler on my heart was being hosted by my childhood bestie and her husband who wrapped us in warmth and made this emotional return something we will cherish forever.
This reel doesn’t even begin to capture it all. I haven’t even spoken about the food (the best in the world and that’s a whole post on its own).
But for now…
Thank you, Jeddah. For who you were. For who you’re becoming.
I’ll be back to remember, and to make new memories. 🤍