Parents Day Tradition
It is one of our dearest yearly traditions: our Parent's Day at Dar Moustaqbel. Seeing the girls proudly show around their home to their parents, seeing the families our students belong to.
Losing and finding a home
When Jamila finished high school in the mountain plateau village of Asni, she was eager to pursue further education, but she knew all too well she did not have the money to do so.
Where is my room?
Our new resident Fatima Zahra el Moussaoui, first-year student in English language and literature, inspects the room distribution at Dar Moustaqbel.
A new beginning
The start of the academic year is always a period of great expectations at Dar Moustaqbel. This year, with 55 students arriving in their new home, coming from villages varying…
Art critics and tour guides
Our students have been conquering the medina lately under the guidance of art historian Anissa Foukalne who volunteers every year to share her knowledge with our students. (more…)
Words to share
Some people requested us to share the speech that was delivered by Rachida Azough during our official opening. So here it is. In French.
Official Opening big success
After two years of pioneering and discovering what Dar Moustaqbel is really about, we finally celebrated our official opening last Saturday in the presence of friends, family and many of our close supporters. (more…)
From failure to victory
‘Times can change’, says Zineb Bidari (19). During her first year in university studying physics, Bidari became demoralized by her ‘unspeakable’ exam results. In contrast her second year has been marked by victory. (more…)
288 hours of French, 96 hours of English
Thanks to you, we have come a long way since we started in September 2016. Dar Moustaqbel has become a safe haven to girls from the southern Atlas Mountains in Morocco. (more…)
Linguistic nightmare
Imagine your first days at university. As a novice you are beaming with enthusiasm and curiosity. Now imagine the subject matter of your choice being taught in a foreign language you do not grasp – at all. It sounds like a horror story. (more…)