العربية
A 14-year-old boy behind a shoe stall in a busy downtown Amman market, old hillside houses behind him

Once upon a time, in Jabal Al-Natheef, an old Amman neighbourhood with its challenges, a boy was born in 1996 into a family of industrial tradesmen. At 14 he was selling shoes in Souq Al-Sukkar, downtown. But he dreamed of making something different.

A boy in a scout scarf at a table, stapling photocopied pages of a home-made magazine

Outside the market, the scouts shaped his skills and taught him to think differently. He refused to be ordinary, so he made a monthly magazine for his troop. It was his first taste of media.

A teenager at a small radio desk, headphones on, a microphone in front of him

So media became his first turning point. A training place at Radio Al-Najah, a Hikaya Center initiative, helped him grow his skills early.

A young man at the back of a lecture hall, the only man among the students

Then came the shock. His grades, and a budget with no room for private universities, led him to The Hashemite University and a major he never chose: early childhood education, seen locally as a major for women. He planned to stay one semester, then transfer.

A kitchen late at night: a mother sets down a plate of dinner beside her son's open books

So he worked by day, at Hikaya and then at Success Network 21, and studied by night. And every night, his mother stayed up to make him dinner. She didn't have to. She never missed a night.

He sits on a kindergarten floor watching a toddler stack blocks, his notebook open beside him

Then, by chance, he started an e-learning project at Hikaya. Strangely, the answers to its problems were in his textbooks, the ones nobody cared about. He dug in, and never transferred. A question stayed with him: how do people learn before they can even read?

A parent and child on a sofa doing an activity together, a phone between them

Education, he realised, needed new tools and a new logic, built on a deep understanding of its methods. So in 2016, with friends, he founded SDEQ, Arabic for “friend”: an assistant helping parents spend real time with their children. It reached over 100,000 families.

A small TV studio, a wall covered in handwritten signatures behind him

SDEQ took him all the way to Ricardo Karam's show. On air, he thanked his mother for every night she stayed up, and said: “I don't dream at night. I dream by day, and then I go and work on it.”

On a big conference stage facing an audience; a side shelf of small trophies and certificates with no text

Recognition followed: two Zain awards, for media and social entrepreneurship, Youth for Change at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, a Badir Fellowship from the International Youth Foundation, and Jordan's 30 Under 30. Through the Global Shapers, he reached a World Economic Forum stage in 2019.

A small office at night, charts of data on the wall, boxes being packed

But SDEQ came too early: the team thought in data and AI; the market wanted online shops. Luckily, a leading investor backed them anyway, seeing the loss coming, to give young people a chance.

Children at laptops in a small classroom, and young people around a wall of sticky notes

SDEQ didn't make it. But it was full of lessons, and they had already opened doors: at I Learn he trained children across Jordan in digital skills, and at Tammey he helped shape programmes for young people.

A refugee-camp caravan at dusk, an old button phone glowing with message bubbles

In 2020 he joined civic to work with UNICEF in two Syrian refugee camps, helping people start their own ventures. Then COVID shut everything. So he solved one challenge after another to keep remote learning going where the infrastructure was weakest.

A child playing a colourful game on a tablet, charts on paper beside it

Then came the years far from home. In 2021 he moved to Saudi Arabia, where at MeemAin he built games that measure what children know without feeling like a test, from financial literacy and cybersecurity to Arabic literacy, giving decision-makers real data.

A long table that grows: four chairs at one end, fifteen people around it

He grew through role after role, until he was running the whole organisation. The team grew from 4 to 15, serving over 200,000 students. Then he chose depth over title and went back to research. The old question had never left him.

He stands beside a colleague at a desk, a laptop and a warm lamp, the Riyadh skyline outside

Today he's on a new journey in Riyadh, leading EduArabia, a regional e-learning company, and trying with his team to build change. His rule is simple: AI is the tool. Human expertise is the product.

Stacks of old Arabic books with a laptop open among them, a cup of tea

On the side, he explores how AI can serve researchers at Warraq, and tests ideas that weren't possible before, like new tools for lawyers.

He sits at his desk, turned slightly towards us, waving

Hi, I'm Qusai. Still the boy from Jabal Al-Natheef who wants to make something different. I love meeting anyone who cares about how people learn.

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