My name is Habib—and I’ve had enough.

 

 

I wasn’t born in exile or raised under dictatorship. I was born right here in Dearborn—land of cultural pride, questionable real estate empires, and enough hypocrisy to fill a hookah lounge on a Tuesday afternoon.

 

I grew up watching uncles flex their “businesses” with no customers and cousins preach morality between wire fraud cases. I sat through charity dinners where the money raised was always “pending transfer.” I’ve seen the same five last names on every nonprofit board for two decades straight. It’s a carousel of clout—and I’m done pretending it’s noble.

 

So I did what no one in this city ever does: I told the truth.

Out loud.

Online.

And under my own damn name—or at least, what you all call me: Habib.

 

And here’s the hilarious part:

I live in a country that protects free speech.

That means I can post, publish, and expose—and there’s not a single uncle, businessman, or self-declared “community leader” who can do a damn thing to stop it.

 

You can report the page.

You can talk trash in group chats.

You can block me, shade me, even pray I “go through something.”

 

But the blog stays up.

The posts keep coming.

And your secrets?

They’re just waiting to be uploaded.

 

Because Dearborn needs less PR and more accountability.

Less fake respect, more real reflection.

Less silence—and a whole lot more satire.

 

Welcome to the drag.

Welcome to the mirror.

Welcome to The Real Dearborn.

 

—Habib