“No coffee allowed here..”
In a small corner of Jabal Al Lweibdeh in Amman, people come together over a pot of tea. Ibrahim calls it his “Tea Party Headquarters.”
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He started it with a small table, two chairs, a mat and two teapots.
Ibrahim studied accounting and was good at it, but it never really felt like him. He wanted to do something of his own, something warm and close to people.
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Then one quiet moment over a cup of tea gave him an idea.
“I was good at accounting, but it didn’t feel like me. So I chose to follow what felt more like me: tea.”
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That little setup slowly grew into something bigger, and Ibrahim gave it a name that had always meant something to him: “Shay Rahaf.”
He had loved the name Rahaf since he was a child and always imagined giving it to his daughter one day. Before that could happen, though, people started calling him Abu Rahaf.
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Laughing, he says:“Any girl named Rahaf gets free tea here for life!”
Today, you can find karak tea, regular tea, and all kinds of herbal drinks on his menu. Coffee, however, is not welcome.
“This is a place just for tea drinkers.”
Ibrahim grew up in Amman, but his family came from the Gaza District and sought refuge there during the Nakba. Gaza has always stayed close to him, in his accent, his memories and his heart.
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“Gaza is a piece of my heart. It’s part of me, and I’m part of it.”
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What started with a simple cup of tea became a small place that feels like Ibrahim. A little bit of Amman, a little bit of Gaza, and plenty of tea.
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