Hooded owners

A lawyer searching in writing for eternity, shedding his black justice robe to realize a dream hanging since childhood. His path intersects with a Sufi seeking himself among the alleys of the ancient city of Kairouan and its mysterious spiritual labyrinths. So how did the two paths intertwine to drown in the sea of one story? And does the dream of writing justify the theft of others' lives? The owners of the hoopoe: a novel sleeping on a newspaper in a man's drawer, a novel experienced by its owner under the sky with a wounded foot chained by the illusion of truth and love. It is a fabric of reflections, sarcasm, and stories—stories of a village with no reality other than what its inhabitants project from their illusions, a city whose lights have gone out, and a free lawyer who will choose his old walls and a Sufi prisoner who broke his walls and now knows what he wants and whom to seek refuge with... Sufian Rajab hands you the keys to the story and provides what you need to solve the mystery with clarity beyond clarity, then involves you in investigating what you thought you knew, as he narrates the story and then retracts it from you. Isn't the core of the novel hunger— the lawyer's hunger for knowledge, the Sufi's hunger for truth, and the reader's hunger for a possible ending? And behind all of them, a writer who does not want to be satisfied with manipulation and play, and how can one be satisfied when their soul is hungry?