After long years of academic work and teaching, I finally found myself facing a new chapter in my life: retirement. Retirement was not for me the end of the road, but the beginning of a new journey full of exploration and learning. In this new chapter, I discovered that passion for science and knowledge does not stop at the university gate, but continues in every corner of life.
By combining my interest in education in Iraq and Arab countries, my participation in academic conferences, and writing scientific research, I found that I was still contributing to developing my field and enriching educational, political, and scientific discussions. Retirement was not an end, but an opportunity to rediscover myself and redefine my role as an academic interested in science and research, as an expert in pedagogy, and an activist in reforming the education system and analyzing and developing educational policies to ensure quality education and achieve educational goals.
After officially announcing my retirement from University College Dublin, we moved to live in Rabat, where my wife Mariam Al-Nasiri works as a professor at Mohammed V University. She had taken a long leave to accompany me in Dublin, including returning periodically to Rabat to perform some teaching and research supervision duties.
After my retirement, we had no choice but to return together with our twins May and Malak to Morocco, where Mariam rejoined her university. We settled in our house overlooking the Botanical Experiment Garden in Rabat, whose visits became part of the daily routine. I would spend time walking in its wonderful space, like lungs through which I breathed to relieve the fatigue of writing and daily work.
The garden was established in 1914 on a total area of 17 hectares, containing great biological diversity, with hundreds of ornamental and fruit species from different origins: local, tropical, subtropical, and desert. I was not really a walking enthusiast, but I got used to it because of its health benefits and psychological importance. I had to, willingly or forcibly, spend time walking, but I would steal some time to sit in the shade of the garden's trees, enjoying their beauty, watching lovers and walkers, and providing an opportunity for relaxation and free wandering among thoughts.
Morning Routine and Passion for Iraq
I begin my day with an old acquaintance—a daily meeting with a hot cup of coffee and the morning newspaper. I pick up my phone and head to "Nour al-Arab" café, that haven that has become an integral part of my routine. I choose my favorite table, overlooking the street, and enjoy watching life pass by around me. The sounds of cars and their horns are a familiar mix that brings me a kind of strange peace. I follow the newspaper pages, reading about those incidents that fill their pages—those talking about love and hatred, life and death.
I send some short messages to my friends and receive their replies, and sometimes I answer a phone call from an old friend. We talk about everything and nothing, just narrating our day's events, exchanging opinions about the deteriorating political conditions afflicting our dear homeland, and complaining together about the decline Iraq is witnessing in various fields.
I found a special pleasure in solitude, as I had no close friends in Morocco to meet regularly. This period of relative isolation gave me a golden opportunity to devote myself to reading, writing, and attending to educational affairs in Iraq and the Arab world. During that period, I completed hundreds of articles and several books. I also enjoyed quiet and sometimes lively times with family, and at other times I practiced the hobby of cooking, especially Iraqi dishes that my daughters and guests admired, although I felt some fatigue from standing long in the kitchen.
Among the dishes that were very popular with my family and friends, "Maqluba" held a special place. This traditional Iraqi dish, rich in flavors and spices, consists of alternating layers of meat or chicken, eggplant, onions, potatoes, and sliced tomatoes, with red rice added on top. After cooking, the pot is flipped upside down onto the serving platter—hence its name.