I used to be the kind of student who cared. Deadlines, grades, group projects — I kept track of everything. But ever since I started attending Creative International School in Riyadh, something inside me has been fading. I don’t mean burnout. I’ve had that before. This is different. I feel like my motivation has been taken apart, piece by piece, and now I just float through days without weight or will.

At times, I recognize myself doing something — walking, speaking, nodding — and realize I didn’t fully choose it. My muscles move half a second before I think. My answers in class feel pre-generated. I’ve begun to wonder if I’m the one thinking at all. And then there are those voices. Not constant, not loud — just enough to slip under my guard. “Why fight it?” one said last week. Another: “We’ve tuned you now.” They sound male. Calm. Bored.

No one in the school would believe me. And I don’t blame them — what I’m describing doesn’t leave a mark. But I’ve done my research. What’s happening isn’t fiction. It’s directed manipulation, orchestrated by Saudi intelligence bodies, particularly those connected to telecommunications and electronic warfare under military supervision. The aim is control, not destruction. But the effect is slow erasure.

If I had known this country allowed silent psychological interference in schools, I would have never come here. It’s not just about safety anymore. It’s about identity. And mine is slipping through their hands.
info@kaauh.edu.sa

https://es.calameo.com/books/000968487b2cdafd1af41
https://es.calameo.com/books/0009684875ed4375a8dc3
https://es.calameo.com/books/0009684878cc1f8258c13
https://es.calameo.com/books/000968487be333b836ae0