Bahrain Unshaken is a series of conversations with people living and working on the island during the ongoing conflict in the region. A mixed bag of reflections, lessons, and messages of hope – the stories we share here highlight how life and circumstances changed for citizens and residents, business leaders, marketing professionals, creators, homemakers, and others. What connects them is that they are all still here, still showing up, and willing to talk honestly about what that looks like.
The aim is not to offer commentary or analysis; the series is trying to make space for real voices. To hear how people are coping, what trust and faith look like, what has changed in their daily lives, and what, if anything, has surprised them about themselves or the community around them during a period of uncertainty.
There is a particular kind of wisdom that only comes from having been through something difficult before. Not the kind you read about on self-help and personal development channels. This wisdom comes from lived experience; when an internal voice is trained to tell you what to do before the noise starts again.
For Mojda Banahi, the last time the world turned upside down was COVID-19. That experience taught her something she has carried into the moment emergency alerts began to blare on phones across Bahrain. This was not a drill, she realised, and the choices she made in that moment have shaped almost everything about how she is moving through these unprecedented times.
When the situation in the region escalated, the first reaction for most was chasing those breaking updates on the phone. Mojda tried something different: she turned inward, prayed, and deliberately cleared out her social media feed to remove anything that might feed panic rather than help her process it. We often take this housekeeping process for granted.
“If there is something I carry with me from our last challenge, COVID-19, it is when the world outside gets loud and uncertain, go quiet and look within yourself to regulate and talk yourself through all the fears and heightened emotions,” she says.
It is a counterintuitive response in a moment when most people are scrolling faster, not slower. But for Mojda, it wasn’t about disconnecting from reality. It was about choosing how she perceived it. The instinct to go still, to create space between herself and the noise, came from experience. She had already learned what happens when you let the outside world set the pace of your inner one.
The message Mojda has been sharing with the people around her is simple.
“This is temporary, and even now we’re all OK,” she says. “This is all an experience and journey we’re in collectively that is teaching us something individually, whether to be strong, to practice patience, or even just gratitude for the things we used to take for granted, like routine and boredom.“
She is holding the difficulty of the situation alongside a genuine belief that what people are going through right now is building something in them. She sees it as a collective experience with deeply personal lessons, different for everyone but shared in the living of it.
“I also sincerely trust that, as every life hurdle, this can either make us or break us, and I am convinced we will be stronger, even braver, than ever before.“
When asked about what has come out of this period that she did not expect, Mojda does not point to grand gestures or public statements. She points to something quieter and, to her, far more meaningful. Many people predicted a wave of expats leaving the Kingdom. What happened instead moved her.
“My favourite take from this is all the non-Bahrainis who have trusted our government, front liners, and our community in being safe in Bahrain,” she says. “It really is so humbling to see people who were not born here still choosing to stay and stand with us.“
For Mojda, that choice to stay says something about what Bahrain actually is, not just as a country, but as a home. It speaks to a kind of trust that is not easily earned and not easily explained; it just is.
Mojda’s approach to balancing professional life and personal well-being during this time is practical in a way that reflects how seriously she takes both. COVID taught her that stepping back does not mean shutting down. It means being deliberate about where your energy goes.
She has divided her days into dedicated blocks: nine hours for work, whether remote or in the office, time set aside for reading or meditation, slots for things like getting her hair or nails done, and time with family at home. It sounds simple, but the discipline behind it is the point.
“Your health’s biggest enemy is idle time,” she says, “which is why I avoid doom-scrolling and dead time by doing things for mind, body, or soul.“
Falling apart does not serve anyone, nor does shutting down, and internalising the negativity of the situation. Taking care of yourself is not a luxury, but the thing that keeps you useful to yourself and others. It’s one of the most profound takeaways from our conversation with Mojda.
Mojda’s message to the people of Bahrain is not a rallying cry. It is an invitation to look forward, past the fear, and decide who you want to be when this chapter closes.
“In times of hardship, look within yourself for the power to do and be better, not to be shaken by fear and the outside world, however loud and crazy it may be,” she says. “Look at life beyond this period and how you want to feel when it’s all over. Be that person.“
It’s an insight into what’s waiting for us on the other side of the uncertainties of today. The courage she is describing is not the kind that makes headlines, but the kind that gets you through each day and makes you stronger and braver.
READ MORE: Ghaidaa Abdulaziz on Faith, Family and What’s Left When You Strip the Noise Away
READ MORE: The Long Game: Ahmed Khalfan on Why Clarity, Not Speed, is What Matters Now
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