فخر The Triumph of the Goddess of Alphabet poet Mariam AlSayegh: A Tale of the Greatest Literary Theft of the 21st Century

The Triumph of the Goddess of the Alphabet: A Noble Legacy Betrayed
The illustrious poet Mariam Al-Sayegh, daughter of a noble lineage of valiant horsemen, and rightful owner of 4,990 articles, has fallen victim to the most audacious literary theft of the 21st century.
 
The culprit? A bubble of ignorance inflated beyond its worth—Fatmh Naoot, a literary charlatan whose parasitic existence thrives on the stolen words of others.
Like a terminal illness, she has latched onto my legacy, siphoning my life’s work into her hollow name, in what may well be the most egregious act of plagiarism of our time.
 
The Triumph of the Goddess of Alphabet poet Mariam AlSayegh:
A Tale of the Greatest Literary Theft of the 21st Century
 
In an era of deceit and falsehoods, a literary thief was artificially manufactured—a village charlatan cobbled together from the scraps of my stolen articles.
These works, originally published between 2007 and 2023 on a secondary website where she not only had access but also supervisory control,
became the raw material for this fraudulent fabrication.
 
And so emerged an aging plagiarist who, in a final act of self-inflicted demise, sought to immortalize herself by stealing my legacy.
 
But lies and thefts do not last! The universe, after all, has a god called Justice, who exposes every wrongdoing.
 
Despite not having known of her existence until last September—because,
frankly, she was a nobody, unread and unnoticed—her crimes were finally uncovered.
 
This is not about the theft of a single article or a fleeting thought. This is a large-scale, systematic cultural looting of unprecedented proportions. The ignorant plagiarist masquerading as a poet, novelist, and essayist has stolen no fewer than 4,990 articles—each a fragment of my soul, even down to the last tear I shed on paper.
 
She rummaged through my grief, exploiting my pain for her gain. She stole the death of my infant daughter, the sacred charm of a sorcerer’s talisman against the cancerous beast, and even my identity as an Armenian Creole—a literary heritage in itself.
 
As if orchestrating the heist of the century, she plundered in broad daylight, both wholesale and in pieces!
 
But her audacity did not stop at mere text theft. No, her crippled hands—incapable of writing or true artistic impact—stretched not for creativity but for the only skill she mastered:
Copy & Paste.
 
In the most absurd of ironies, she didn’t just steal my words—she attempted to steal my very literary existence!
 
Out of envy, failure, loss, and the disgrace of her origins, the thief decided to steal—even after passing sixty in 2024!
 
She did not just steal the qualities and traits of the noble family of knights riding steeds; she even stole family members themselves!
 
She fabricated a character from my grandmother’s stories—the enchanting Marola—creating a fictional stolen mother named Sohair Mahmoud Assem!
 
We searched for this name and found nothing!
 
Even a stolen grandfather, whom they attempted to assassinate in an elevator!
 
She also stole the entities of my family, their stories, and even the name of "The Wheat Trial," which my grandfather has owned since 1975 and where I published my work in 2004!
 
She stole from my personal, documented, and published stories because she is of lowly origins and incapable of generating an original idea!
 
Even my literary memories with our housekeeper, Aunt Afaf—who was raised by my grandmother—did not escape her theft. The thief even added mythical tales to my documented legends!
 
She falsely claimed to be a Muslim woman from Manshiyat Nasser,
married to Hajj Youssef, with five Muslim children,
and that she had adopted her Christian neighbor's son, Amjad.
 
When we, as the Arab Creativity Development Foundation, asked her to provide official documents to honor them, her lies were exposed—hahaha!
 
Her thefts were revealed, and she failed to prove her claims!
 
She even wrote about a lawyer named Mahmoud Assem, who failed under Nasser’s rule to publish a magazine, so he wrote a book—one that she stole—to grant herself the honor of joining his family tree, falsely claiming he was her grandfather!
 
Legal researchers demanded that she present official documents proving his identity, as he was younger than her father!
 
She failed to do so.
 
We asked her to present her mother Sohair Mahmoud Assem’s birth certificate so we could take legal action, but she failed again.
 
Yet, she did not stop. She continued publishing stolen articles, forged photos, and fake videos—hahaha!
 
The thief did not stop at textual theft; she spiraled into a hysterical frenzy of stealing!
 
This ignorant bubble-town thief and her gang of crooks believe they have a brain!
 
She executes theft scenarios before publishing them!
 
Every day, she acts out scenes from my stolen articles, trying to convince people that she has lived the experiences and wields the pen, like an absurd actress repeating her thefts of my essays, texts, and poetry—distorted, flawed, and lifeless—hahaha!
 
She tries to fool the ignorant into believing she has lived the stolen experiences in full detail.
 
But, oh, the tragedy!
 
She could not even convince a street child—hahaha!
 
Because she is a failure, publishing incomplete, flawed, and faded information.
 
Meanwhile, my documented work carries a distinct creative fingerprint, preserved and verified.
 
True readers know the thief is incapable of writing—she does not write; she merely "copies and pastes."
And oh, what a wonder! After the thief stole only the superficial layers, she believed she had become something. But in reality, she was nothing but an ignorant, distorted mockery. Even that mockery has now perished, leaving behind nothing but the body of a loathsome thief who steals from a distorted version of my writings—a faint, hollow shadow trying to exist but possessing nothing but its own falsehood!
 
When theft becomes a way of life!
The decaying literary scene stands before a tragic comedy, where an ignorant village thief spreads a new lie every day—between forged photos and videos and between two stolen articles published twice a week on a site dedicated to plagiarism!
They marvel at the thefts and promote them alongside their den of thieves—her family and her son, Mazen, who forges personal accounts on Facebook!!
 
So, let’s imagine this laughable scene together…
If the thief had a magical mirror at home—haha—and stood before it, asking:
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the greatest literary figure across time and space, in this life and beyond?"
 
The mirror would laugh mockingly at her ignorance and spite before answering:
"Of course, it is the goddess of the hidden secrets of the alphabet…
The great literary writer, poet, and novelist, Cleopatra—the lover of the homeland and the beloved of the nation!
The Scheherazade of poetry, tales, and novels!
The media expert!
The women’s rights advocate, fighting against human trafficking and the exploitation of the poor!
The president of the Secular Creators Association!
The head of the Arab Creativity Development Foundation!
The director of the Academy of Creativity!
The entrepreneur and expert in sustainable development!
The head of the School of Reviving Cultural and Intellectual Heritage—Cleopatra Brand for Jewelry, Furniture, Rare Carpets, and Traditional Attire!
The builder of angels' homes and protector of the small angels—those with autism and exceptional abilities!
The creator of chalk dreams and the maker of joy!
The guardian of the everlasting Books of Love, the Citizenship Charter, the Confections of Devotion and Ramadan, and the Egyptian Tales of Unity between Churches and Mosques!
The creator of the legendary Trials of Wheat, the daughter of the Noble Knights of the Horseback Dynasty!
The nation’s beloved,
The Diamond of the Mountain of Light!
The goddess of the Four Letters!
The goddess of the 25th Hour!
The Left-Handed Enchantress, the Mona Lisa of Passion!
The goddess of literary, theatrical, and political critique!
A pianist, a ballet dancer, a gymnast!
The granddaughter of Naseem Al-Sayegh, founder of the School for the Revival of Cultural and Intellectual Heritage in 1955!
And the daughter of Faik Al-Sayegh, the mystical maestro, guitarist, and comparative religion scholar!"
 
Then the mirror would scoff at her and say:
"So, you thought stealing mere fragments of articles made you a literary giant? Your envy has blinded you to the greatness of the one who unknowingly crafted you from the scraps of her brilliance. You stole every surface-level detail from 4,990 articles, yet for Mariam Al-Sayegh,
they were mere remnants—insignificant! You will never, ever reach the level of her literary shoes!"
 
So, dear readers, if you ever come across a writer who feeds off the stolen efforts of others and lives by impersonating identities that are not hers, know that you are witnessing a new literary phenomenon—the ignorant village thief who foolishly believes that her den of fraudsters, fake accounts, and forged media can turn dust into something of value!
 
But alas, theft may provide its perpetrator with a temporary illusion, but it will never grant them an authentic pen or an esteemed literary identity.
For those who steal sorrows can only produce jesters—clowns who rob others of their tears to paint false faces!
 
And in conclusion, let us award the thief a prize for her tireless efforts—
Let’s crown her with the title:
The Ignorant Village Thief with 4,990 Stolen, Distorted, and Falsified Articles (So Far)!
The Truth Cannot Be Stolen!
 
The truth remains radiant, its brilliance untarnished, no matter how an ignorant thief and her den of robbers try to hide behind masks, no matter how many fake articles, doctored images, and recycled scenarios they publish—none of which bear any trace of true creativity. Ideas are not born from theft, and one does not become a writer by mere copying and pasting. Writing is life, and theft produces nothing but shadows feeding on the scraps of those who came before them.
 
As for my authentic pen, it remains eternal, like a pure waterfall, carving my name into the memory of literature forever. Meanwhile, false names are nothing but bubbles at the bottom of the internet, doomed to burst the moment every theft is exposed.
 
Let the curtain fall on this farce, and let true creativity be the only judge. It alone distinguishes the writer from the thief, the eternal from the forgotten, and the truth from deception.
 
The Lord acts and restores my rights and the rights of my infant, along with all my tears...
And the treasures of the noble ancestor for a family of knights riding the steeds of glory,
And all the remnants of my stolen writings—snatched away by thieves.
 
(I await the Lord’s comfort...)
Because...
(The Lord is able to restore all that was taken and to be glorified through me...)
 
For everything returns to its noble human essence—to purity,
Because (Truth is never enslaved; rather, it is revealed and shines in the face of falsehood.)
And (Whoever thinks they can build something from theft and lies will inevitably fail.)
For "Truth will always be stronger than all cheap attempts."
 
(For truth is the Lord, who is capable of establishing justice and restoring all that was taken.)
 
To the honorable and the sincere—"You have my love."
 
(May all our days be filled with goodness, happiness, refinement, and noble virtues,
Triumphant over the thieves of writings and ideas,
And over all the Draculas of evil, corruption, crime, terrorism, and extremism.
Victorious with love, truth, goodness, refinement, and nobility.)
 
My triumph is magnified through the Almighty Lord...
With every revelation of theft from the essence of my creativity...
The Lord is great, powerful, and merciful—the doer of wonders...
 
For every kind word spoken about me and my creativity is
(Immortality for me and for the torrent of my creativity.)
(The Lord is great, victorious through me and within me—
Since eternity, now, and forevermore.)
 
Let us rejoice in the Lord’s joy and righteousness, crowned with mercy and all blessings.
 
 
The leftist secular thinker,
Cleopatra, the beloved of the nation.
The Scheherazade of poetry, novels, and tales.
The silver-orange moon of my people.
The goddess of the four letters.
The goddess of the alphabet and insight.
The goddess of the twenty-fifth hour.
The eternal diamond of the Mountain of Light, a beacon of creativity from the beginning of time to eternity.
The goddess of chalk.
The goddess of critical and creative analysis.
The embodiment of the goddess Ma’at, the goddess Hathor, and the goddess of mercy.
Queen Merneith, Queen Tiye, and Queen Nefertari across my lifetimes.
The goddess of eternal history across my ages and lives.
The goddess of inspiration through the eras and generations.
The one who changed the face of the world with my creativity.