Lion's Tail Films, London (2025)

25/09/2025

The cubs often ask me when I’m next going on a work trip, and they know it’s never normally Paris or Madrid.

As I installed Life 360 onto the oldest cub’s phone he said, ‘The thing is, I need it more for you than you need it for me. One day I’m going to get a notification saying, ‘Mummy has just arrived in Gaza.’

I touché-d him with the fact that he could be in the newly-opened v**e shop at the end of our terrace and Life 360 would tell me he is at home.

But when I set off on a filming trip almost a year ago with the amazing .tbox to Israel (the film is coming out soon!) the cubs were perturbed and so I wrote them a letter to explain why it is that I do what I do.

I read the beautiful memoir by a while ago and while I could never put myself in the same bracket as this immensely talented woman, her book title, ‘It’s what I do’ resonated.

It isn’t every job that combines naturally with being a parent. But somehow we are all trying, in our individual ways, to still do what we love and what makes us feel useful whether we have kids or not.

Now I re-read this letter to remind myself of what it’s all about, and since a couple of cubs are occasionally on the insta - they can have it again for their records 🥰🥰🦁🦁 Here you go my boys. ###

Letter to my cubs:

My darlings,
It struck me that I have never really explained to you why I do what I do. Sometimes it’s the most simple and obvious things we forget to talk about when we’re together. And though you know me possibly as well as you know anyone, maybe you find it hard to figure out why, when there is a fire going on in the Middle East, that I would board a flight to Tel Aviv and dive in that direction.

Do you remember when we were on a bus in our early days of life back in London? We went to the Van Gogh expedition with Stella and Ferdie and we passed a fire station in Hoxton that had ‘Love is the running towards,’ written above the doors.

I’m not a fire fighter or really anything useful or brave like that - nor a doctor, nor a surgeon nor even a nurse. But there are some things that I was given that make me a tiny bit useful. And from an early age I think i understood that whatever we were given - from talents or gifts to opportunities - we need to make the most of them.
Because life is short. And there’s a lot to do in this magic but often tragic world.

My fundamental belief is that we humans are all equal and that our connection with each other is the most important thing. Whether it be a smile exchanged with a complete stranger on a rainy day, a conversation with a random person on a bus (‘mummy did you just make another friend?’) a deep friendship or our relationships with family.

Since I was really little I have always been fascinated by people, including those from different cultures. Thanks to Grandma I developed a love of languages and thanks to Grandpop I was quite physically strong and…well, determined. I had lots of foreign friends in my primary school in Scotland including Anya Nakajima from Japan who used to bring me seaweed snacks and Hello Kitty rubbers, and Bora Mukami from Nigeria who could sprint as fast as the wind. I just loved the doors they opened to different cultures and ways of life. And we leaned a lot about life from each other.

So I carried on learning languages and tried to explore as much as possible from as soon as Grandma and Grandpop would let me go. It all started in Spain…

And since meeting Daddy, I have been able to live in places that most people in the UK may never dream of even visiting, let alone living. Afghanistan, Jordan, Palestine and Israel, Oman. Not forgetting Niger and Chad and in so many of these places you brave and beautiful babies were with me in some form - either in the womb or in your steadily growing forms in all our different houses and all those streets and jibaal (mountains) and wadis (valleys).

By film making and recording stories of every day people, I honestly believe I can play a tiny role in helping us all understand each other a little better. We live in a society where we celebrate free speech. The number of societies like this is steadily decreasing, and even in our own - it is being warped with the combination of social media and political correctness.

We also risk losing connections with other cultures by choosing to fear rather than to love.

Gillian - who I am filming with - is a Jewish lady not afraid of asking the difficult questions of her race. And looking at the trauma of their society straight in the eye and asking whether it is now being used as a weapon to make victims of others.

I really love my job and I love to opportunity to record interviews and take people’s photographs. I also love to write my thoughts down and try and transmit what they tell me. It makes me feel happy and alive and I think I’m good at it - after lots of practise and lots of mistakes (which are the best way to learn). I find a flow when I am filming and editing just like I do when I’m running. And sometimes I get to make something useful - which I consider this project to be.

The news only ever shows the trouble in trouble spots - you never see the normal life going on all around, and so often, the news shows the ugly side of humanity, not its beauty or its kindness, or even its brilliant humour.

I promise I will be sensible and trust my instincts. And you don’t need to worry because remember- I will be making many more…new friends!

I love you all and Daddy more than you will ever know and am so incredibly proud of the beautiful humans you have already turned out to be.

Mamita x

22/09/2025

‘What was the name of that yummy sandwich we had in the Palestinian cafe?’

‘Oh that was it - a Shwaaaaarmaaaa!’

This was the song of the bunch of 10 year olds I was lucky enough to hang out with this weekend. Friends of our smallest cub, who is now 10.

A celebratory weekend for the girl cub who was born smiling. First stop - our roof where they danced before the setting sun to ‘Always look on the bright side of life’ with intermission for some AC/DC Back in Black ponytail headbanging. Girl power and freedom and uncomplicated happy times.

Can it be a decade since I woke to the red hibiscus flowers outside the window at the Holy Family Hospital in Bethlehem? A small girl child asleep in the bassinet beside me, wrapped in coloured Palestinian knitted blanket.

10

So now our entire pride will forever share a commonality - that of double figures, until one of us possibly 🙃 hits a triple. It’s a good thing I splashed out on cake moulds in the numbers 1 - 10. Never too late.

Like her brothers, this smiling cub has adapted well to the nomadic existence. 6 homes already under her pelt. 😉

‘Mummy, isn’t it funny how wherever we go, we find ‘us’’: she told me this summer.

They may not know where they are from, but we wanted our cubs to feel that they came from ‘the world’ and that the whole world is valid.

But our constant conundrum these terrible days is how to reconcile, as our eldest cub put it: ‘How the place where I spent the happiest years of my life, (Palestine aged 4 to aged 9) can be so full of war and sadness.’

As the girl cub and her friends skipped down to Kings Cross the day after the shawarma lunch at the Palestinian cafe, we met lines of people outside Kings Cross with photos of dead Gazan children.

As Gwyn Daniel (UK Palestine mental health network and Patron of Palestine trauma centre) said on Al Jazeera this morning ‘Gazan children, because they’re facing death every day, they think about death as a release.
Children say I’d like to die and go to heaven because at least there will be food there. This is what they’re reduced to. Even though Gaza’s children are also strong articulate and has endured a huge amount already.’

22/07/2025

This is a must read. I feel exceptionally lucky to be working with this foundation which all began with this one man and his amazing wife a decade ago.

17/06/2025

I posted this in July 2014 when we were living in E.Jerusalem with our two boy cubs, and the summer turned into a 50-day war between Israel and Hamas.

On 16th July, four little boys were killed in a missile strike on Gaza beach.

Mohammad Ramiz Bakr, 11, Ahed Atef Bakr and Zakariya Ahed Bakr, both 10, and Ismail Mahmoud Bakr, nine, were killed when they were hit by explosive rounds.

The attack was witnessed by a Guardian reporter.

11 years on, we are still counting the days. Have we lost count of the children? And now there’s no Guardian reporter allowed as a witness.

“The air is cooler today and Israeli troops entered Gaza in the early hours. This morning we awoke to unusually grey skies, a tribute at least, to these times.

There’s a Scots expression which describes better than any, the Palestinian mood at the moment: ‘huddn doon’. You feel it in each conversation and see it in every face on the street.

A photograph in yesterday’s New York Times, showed a man holding the face of one of the four, slight bodies wrapped in yellow shrouds.

Holding the face of a child between one’s two hands is such a visceral action. Looking at the image, I can feel our boys’ warm cheeks between my palms, bright eyes looking back, warm breath on the inside of my wrist.

In seconds, out went four little lights on that beach. Their junior trajectories obliterated. Nothing to remain but the pain in the hearts of the mothers and fathers who know well what it is to have a running, jumping, dancing, fighting, laughing ball of boy energy. The feeling of sculpted sinew and muscle wrapped in silken skin - so familiar to their hands from all the washing and dressing, tending and kissing.

Never again will they grasp an arm in angry chastisement, stroke a forehead in illness, or grip with two arms around a breathless chest in response to a boyish hug. The basis of the pain must be the ghost of tangibility, the whisper of a memory of all those routine motions required.

Every parent’s darkest fear.

Family Bakr and all the other families in Gaza. We are feeling it with you.”

31/03/2025

On one of my least favourite streets, at this scary point in history, I found myself a little chirped up by this sweet th*****me on their way to an Eid celebration. Beauty is often more beautiful in ugly places. Eid Mubarak 🥳

19/03/2025

Here I’ve chosen 10 pictures which encapsulate the happy and love-filled times I spent in Gaza over the years.

The problem is I’m running out of words for the variations of heart break I feel.

Picture 1: My lovely day spent with two Gazan artists, husband and wife duo and

Picture 2: A gorgeously humble little golden onion-like mosque which is probably now a pancake 😔

Picture 3: A couple with a baby by beautiful - I have another picture by her in our guest room and it makes my heart sing (and also deeply ache)

Picture 4: A remnant of Palestinian Airlines. Yes - Palestine once had an airline of their own as well as many other things of their own, for instance a land

Picture 5: A mandate era house in Gaza, a little like the one we lived in for 4 years in Jerusalem. It could easily also be a pancake now. 😔It was surrounded by lush gardens filled with cacti and ornate birds

Picture 6: The ‘battery man’ who I filmed with. He recycled car batteries somehow out of some derivative of saline solution and all the lights in his house were powered by one. ‘Even my wife, sometimes’ he told me laughingly. Has he survived all this?

Picture 7: The still beautiful sea

Picture 8: Dina arranging her pictures for me to film

Picture 9: My own boys and our beautiful nanny Grace who allowed me to work (and go to Gaza and film) by loving our children as much as we did

Picture 10: Happy, silly times filming with this man, his girls and his donkey and cart. They were so poor but they gave me so much, most of all their time and their laughter.

09/02/2025

‘My father just died. He was a farmer and an engineer,’ I said to our driver Serjei in Kyiv via Google Translate.

In some ways relying on Google Translate keeps conversation concise. You choose only the essential words for that moment.

‘My mother has 8 goats and they love eating banana skins, ‘ Serjei replied.

‘I’m sorry I guess I’m not so good looking,’ he continued.

As we trudged up an icy slope with my camera kit to get some shots of a snowy, grey Kyiv he added: ‘Beauty doesn’t come without sacrifice.’

I don’t know what I’d expected from Ukraine, but having spent last week there with my new job as head of comms with the David Nott foundation, I find myself in thrall to this land and its people.

For the past three years they have been defending Europe - every man over 26 years old is expected to fight - they fight on rotation.

We travelled the vast landscapes in enormous trains - guided by the beautiful Khrystyna, between three cities - Lviv, Kyiv and Vinnytsia - to meet surgeons saving lives on the frontline.

Psychological warfare removes any remnant of normal life - ‘teachers send the children home every day saying there are land mines in the schools. No one knows the truth.’ said one anaesthetist. Sirens sound day and night leaving people dithering with jeopardy - to go to the shelter or try to get a full night of sleep?

The vast train stations, one housing an ornate organ are frequented with men of all ages in army fatigues, leaving for and returning from the front.

I was left with the remarks of another Serjei - proudly showing me pictures of his last trip to the front - standing in snowy forests with his battalion. He was to return the following day. ‘How many of your battalion returned from the last one?’ I asked.

‘Only 50 per cent of us came back.’

💔🇺🇦

07/02/2025

Oh Dad, your absence fills our world.

But your legacy lives on. And as we see from the enormous piles of letters arriving at home, that therewas rarely a soul you met, whose life you didn’t touch in some very lovely or quirky way. Your kindness, your generosity and your strength, and that word which crops up in letter after letter – that ever present ‘twinkle’.

And we can honestly say, that no one here, will ever forget you.

08/01/2025

2025 is dawning brightly for me as I start a new role as Head of Communications for the David Nott Foundation https://davidnottfoundation.com this Monday.

Since hearing David’s unrivalled Desert Island Discs interview in 2016, the foundation has been in my sights as the epitome of authentic altruism, supporting surgeons at work in some of the world’s toughest environments.

Then I got to meet the wonderful Elly Nott and to do some filming and photography for them in Somaliland, Palestine and Libya, to document the experiences of some of these courageous surgeons.

It’s hard to feel useful when you compare yourself to highly-skilled medics. I have a memory of crossing into Gaza just after a previous devastating conflict in 2014. At the Hamas checkpoint I saw a group of men being questioned intently.

Amid the confusion I realised the men were speaking Spanish with a strong Chilean accent.

It turned out they were originally Palestinian, (Chile has a huge Palestinian diaspora), all of them surgeons - coming back to their homeland to help out. Oh to be that useful, I thought to myself, my camera kit losing its lustre as I compared our respective life contributions.

It turned out the Hamas guy was trying to get the surgeons to offload all the bottles of wine they had picked up in Bethlehem on the way, before the bottles entered Gaza where they are strictly haram. And we all, including the Hamas official, laughed as the surgeons emptied miniatures of gin and whisky from the pockets of their combat trousers.

As I go about my work, which can take me in many delightfully unexpected directions, I feel a little like a carrier pigeon, picking up little sights and sounds from places very few of us get to visit.

I feel really excited to be able to put my time into this new job, and squished onto the top corner of our somewhat overpopulated fridge door, is Emily Dickinson’s little line, which always spurs me on.

I’m already the laughing stock of the family for my penchant for motivational stickers so I have nothing to lose.

‘In this short life which lasts about an hour, how much, how little, is within our power?’

24/12/2024

It’s not about the homeware, but our hand blown tumblers from Hebron, Palestine are full of family memories.

As we sip and toast and glug - we are transported back to our lives there , and the Natacheh family ceramics and glass shop outside Hebron, where we were regular shoppers.

For children’s parties they would make us mugs with the children’s names in lieu of party bags. Always a friendly welcome and a free gift and a chance to paint a plate or watch the molten glass taking shape at the end of a tube.

I read that the word ‘fiasco’ comes from the Italian glass flask when it goes a bit wrong. If a beautiful Venetian piece was flawed, they turned it into an ordinary bottle.

My heart breaks along with the tumblers as we smash our way through them in daily life - knowing how hard it is to return to the besieged West Bank now - blocked out in red in the Foreign Office travel advice.

But my heart breaks even more for its people - lives and hopes and dreams smashed like our tumblers.

This Christmas I noticed a little advert for Bethlehem Baubles www.bethlehembaubles.com and I contacted the owner having seen the friendly face of Sami Natacheh on her site - the very man who made me my treasured cup saying ‘Lusy’ which holds my pens on my desk.

And within a fortnight we received a package direct from the Bethlehem loaded with delightful hand blown green and clear tumblers to replenish our supply.

This comes as a toast for all our friends in the Holy Land. That this fiasco can pour out some redemption one day. And Happy Christmas one and all. 🎄💫

23/12/2024

It was one of the great highlights of my year to film the wonderful Avi Shlaim, Israeli British revisionist ‘new historian’.

And another of the great honours of my year to work alongside - filming in Israel in early October - and recording a full gamut of voices and views.

One of the many takeaways from interviewing Avi was the pause - of anything from 5 to 15 seconds between hearing the question and giving his answer.

For this reason, every answer was beautifully articulate, clear and accurate. Just like his writing. And combined with a great warmth and generosity of spirit alongside an acutely agile mind. I am totally in awe.

His books, including The Iron Wall, The Lion of Jordan and Three Worlds, shed bounteous light on the situation we are in now.

Another one coming very soon: Genocide in Gaza.

And hopefully our documentary too. 🎥

27/11/2024

Another teen in the house. Hamish Rashimi you are now 13.

We were hoping for an 11/11/11 and you arrived on 16/11 - but an equally rare en caul birth.

In medieval times, this was seen as a sign of good luck. It was considered an omen that the child was destined for greatness.

Or at least a sign you were not going to drown at sea.

That’s one worry off the list!

When you arrived the Lion thought you were a dinosaur baby. ‘What is THAT?’ he asked of the little brown peanut 🥜 in my arms. You arrived with a sun tan and you have had one ever since - even when the rest of us have wintry blue knees.

‘What did you call your baby?’ asked the lovely lady in the hospital who came to check your hearing. ‘Hamish’ we said.

‘Hamesh!’ She cried. ‘That is a very great person from India - where I come from. Hamesh Rashimi! you must know him, he is a very famous Bollywood singer.’

So Rashimi you became. At least by nickname.

And now you are almost old enough to wear a medallion too.

I am constantly in awe of the kindness and gentleness of teenaged boys, having two in the house.

And you can express your emotions like when we went to watch Paddington 3 and you could say that the ending made you cry because Paddington said he came a little bit from everywhere, and you thought that was a bit like us. And the older cub admitted it gave him goosebumps.

I love that. And now you even say that after two years, you have settled in to this enormous city and that it might even feel a bit like home. Or home for now at least. 😉

Lion's Tail Films

25/09/2025

22/09/2025

22/07/2025

17/06/2025

31/03/2025

19/03/2025

09/02/2025

07/02/2025

08/01/2025

24/12/2024

23/12/2024

27/11/2024

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