Kuwait's book club revival: A quiet revolution in connection
By Rayan Alamiri
In a country where many spaces feel either purely commercial or overly familiar, a quiet revolution is unfolding in the corners of cafés, bookstores and private living rooms. Kuwait's emerging literary communities — book clubs, workshops and informal meetups — are offering an antidote to the disconnection many people quietly experience.
Hawraa Al Khalaf, a Kuwaiti author, describes this yearning simply: 'Community is not just about common interests. It's about connection.' In Kuwait, where people often gather in the same places yet feel a persistent loneliness, this connection has never felt more urgent.
There's a documented rise in demand for these spaces, which serve as a bridge between work or school and home. Many people speak of a sense of disconnection or feeling limited in their social options. In a small country where so many frequent the same venues, how could anyone feel lonely? Yet that's the paradox many experience.
Bookstores and cafés can't be credited for creating communities — they are simply the backdrop. These venues act as 'third places', where people can safely explore ideas and identity beyond their professional or domestic roles. While the appetite for such spaces is growing, they remain rare. Creating and sustaining them isn't easy — financial costs, a lack of locally relevant books, and the risk of commercializing inclusive spaces all pose challenges.
Samira Jafar, a writer and English teacher who studied at Boston University and earned a master's in linguistics, knows these obstacles well. After returning to Kuwait with no creative outlet or community, she founded The Shelf, a nonprofit book club devoted to accessible literature and meaningful conversation.
Hawraa Al Khalaf
Mai Al-Nakib
Samira Jafar
'I missed being able to discuss literature and art with people,' she explained, 'and have conversations that touch on social and political issues.' Determined to remove financial barriers, Samira ensures The Shelf remains free and inclusive. With an active social media presence, joining is simple — anyone can message @theshelfkw on Instagram to be added to the WhatsApp group.
This philosophy contrasts sharply with a growing trend in Kuwait, where many cultural initiatives start as nonprofits but eventually pivot to profit models once they gain a following. Samira's refusal to commercialize The Shelf has made her a quiet pioneer in Kuwait's reading culture. Members describe the club as a space to reclaim time, rediscover intellectual curiosity, and step outside the routines of daily life. For some mothers, it's the only place they feel free to read and express themselves.
'My favorite part about The Shelf is that it feels like I'm back in my old literature classroom —different minds, different stories, different people, all connected by the love of books. The Shelf feels like a chosen family trope, in the cutest intellectual girly way,' Dina AlQinai shared. Jenan Aldhubaib echoed this sentiment. 'Having a space where you can express how deeply you feel about a book is freeing. Many might find the emotional attachment to characters insignificant, but for just a little while, reading makes everything seem okay. For the first time, I can share opinions and feel heard.'
Beyond the book clubs themselves, a thread of nostalgia runs through this cultural shift. The growing popularity of vintage cameras, scrapbooks and film photography reflects a broader pushback against the relentless pace of digital life. As Mai Al-Nakib, author of The Hidden Light of Objects, put it: 'Turning to the past becomes a way of insisting on personal autonomy. It's an intelligent pushback against the onward march of technology.'
Al-Nakib sees Kuwait itself as a character in her writing — a place whose physical spaces shape who we become. 'Homes, schools, bookstores, cafés — they become the foundation upon which our sense of self is built,' she said. 'As we get older, we return to these spaces in our minds, and some trace of who we were comes back.'
Book clubs often spark conversations that wouldn't occur otherwise. Certain stories resonate in deeply personal ways, becoming natural catalysts for deeper ties and meaningful community. For many in Kuwait, that nostalgic trace is no longer enough. They want real spaces, real encounters and real conversations. As the repetition of daily life wears thin, younger generations especially are seeking new ideas, creativity and opportunities to assert independence. Whether they gather to trade children's books, discover new authors or debate social issues, these communities offer more than books — they offer belonging, vitality and authenticity.
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