Hi my name is Yasin, I was born in the 1970s and grew up in Sweden, in a Stockholm suburb where most residents were ethnic Swedes.

As a child, the differences between us were barely noticeable, our world was filled with play and friendship. But in the actions and attitudes of adults, the contrasts became clear. Being “Swedish” was not the same as being ethnically Swedish. This distinction was marked by a social distance that made it difficult for many immigrant families to feel fully included. It was like an exclusive club, where belonging was reserved for those who shared the same background.

As immigrant children, we carried a double burden

No matter how much we assimilated, linguistically, culturally, and socially, our origins and appearance served as constant reminders that we could never fully become “Swedes.” This realization sparked an early desire to understand and explore my own heritage, something I could only truly experience during summer trips to Morocco.

During the 1990s, the atmosphere in Sweden changed dramatically. A wave of racism swept across the country, forcing us immigrant youths to forge our own identity, a form of resilience expressed through the “kickers” subculture. It was during this time that I began practicing martial arts, first Taekwondo with a group of friends and earlier Kung Fu with my father. Training became an outlet for both frustration and ambition.

Yet, a sense of emptiness persisted. Life in Sweden seemed to follow a predictable pattern: education, work, housing, family, but what came next? The pursuit of material success felt meaningless. My parents worked tirelessly to provide us with a better future, often at the expense of time spent together as a family. My older sister shouldered a significant share of the responsibility for raising me during my childhood.

The question that often echoed in my mind was: Was it worth it?

To struggle so hard to be accepted in a society that still never fully considered us part of it?

Over time, I began exploring my Moroccan heritage more deeply and, in the process, discovered Islam. This revelation was a turning point, I found a sense of peace and clarity about life’s purpose that I had previously lacked. I started dreaming of one day returning to Morocco, to my roots, where I would no longer have to explain or defend my faith.

After years of studying and entrepreneurship, my family and I took a decisive step and moved to Spain, a middle ground between Morocco and Sweden. There, I built a business, but like so many others, we were hit hard by the pandemic in 2020. After losing everything, I returned to Sweden to regroup and rethink my plans.

This return brought me back to what had always been a constant in my life: training. With 20 years of experience in various sports, football, floorball, Kung Fu, Taekwondo, strength training, Muay Thai, and MMA, and as a licensed personal trainer and nutrition advisor, I decided to pursue my childhood dream. I filled two shipping containers with gym equipment and embarked on a journey to Morocco to build a business focused on fitness, rehabilitation, and health.

Today, in 2025, I am writing this text from Morocco, where I am working to contribute to a healthier society

The plans are ambitious, even though financial resources are limited. Preventative health initiatives often receive little priority, but for me, the reward lies with God. With patience and determination, I strive to create a business that strengthens people’s physical and mental well-being, while also finding my own place in the world.

Living as a practicing Muslim in a country where my faith and identity are not questioned is a freedom I have long sought. And escaping the cold Swedish winters? That’s just an added bonus.