I have changed arenas a few times. The thread stayed the same.

I started in a place where the wind was louder than people. Moving to the city meant learning a new rhythm, a new slang, and a new way of carrying myself. Being the kid who felt different taught me observation early.

Sports gave that energy somewhere useful to go. Kung Fu taught me balance. Handball taught me hunger. I was usually the smallest player on the court, so I learned to compete with timing, repetition, and grit instead of size.

That chapter gave me my first real identity: not the loudest person in the room, but the one willing to keep working after everyone else was done.

For a while, I thought handball would be the whole story. Then I looked at the older players. The talent was real, the sacrifice was real, but the future was not as stable as I wanted mine to be.

I chose a different path and went to university in Agadir. Then COVID hit. My nights turned into long sessions with C, algorithms, and the kind of frustration that only pointers can create. There was no crowd and no applause, but the work scratched the same itch: measurable progress.

That was the season where discipline stopped being physical and became intellectual. I was still training, just in a different language.

The real spark came when I joined the Google Developer Student Club and started teaching. Preparing workshops forced me to answer a hard question: who am I to explain any of this? The answer turned out to be simple. Someone who did the work and cared enough to share it well.

That opened the door to hackathons, a tighter circle of collaborators, and the brutal admission-exam season that changed my trajectory. Later, in a new city and a new school, I walked into administration with a plan to build a better tech culture instead of waiting for one to appear.

I started clubs, merged communities, ran events, and eventually stepped back far enough to watch other people take over and move faster. That is when I understood the kind of work I care about most: building structures that keep helping people when I am no longer in the middle of them.