All of us at CNN are counting down the days to the launch of our newest bureau and production facility. After Atlanta, London and Hong Kong – Abu Dhabi is set to be our fourth broadcast hub when it launches on November 3rd. We will have a nightly newscast from there called Prism hosted by Stan Grant so be sure to tune in!

We'll bring you a behind-the-scenes look at how the bureau came together on the next IME airing November 4. Meanwhile, here's a sneak preview!

Special to CNN

Editor's note: Reem (whose last name is withheld for security purposes) is a 22-year-old student living in Gaza City and a participant in Mercy Corps Global Citizen Corps, a nonprofit initiative that helps youth build leadership skills and act to end world poverty. Reem and the nonprofit are part of an upcoming CNN special event, "Generation Islam" with Christiane Amanpour that premiers Aug. 13th 9 p.m. ET, 2 a.m. GMT. Here, Reem writes about growing up in Gaza.

(CNN) - I have vivid memories of childhood. The 5-year-old girl with endless questions; she wanted to discover the secrets of the entire world within minutes. She dreamed of being a doctor once, an engineer another time, and a mother of lovely kids. A dreamer, this is how I would describe the little girl Reem.

CNN. Reem is a 22-year-old student living in Gaza City.

Days passed fast. Reem couldn't remember a lot of them, but she had some moments left in her memory - usually the happy moments of her life - and those memories were the basis for today's Reem, the 22-year-old girl who is ME.

I remember how happy I was when my teacher announced to the school that I was first in my class. I remember my mother's voice singing to me before I fell asleep; I remember my father running behind my kite when I lost it in the air, and I remember me asking my parents for a real monkey as a pet.

I can't forget the day I finished high school; I felt so grown up. I remember the day when the school announced the exam results and the tears of happiness my mother shed when I received a grade of excellent, and then I decided to enroll in the college of Business Administration.

I can call Gaza City the city of qualifications, where a lot of youth are qualified for good jobs. I am one of those youth who is volunteering in organizations, participating in community service activities, getting trained in various skills and getting more qualified day by day. But many young people like me cannot find jobs. See perspectives from Palestinian youth »

Sometimes, I feel disconnected from Gaza, but whenever I see the photos of Jaffa, I realize that it's where I and a thousand refugees belong. I find myself crying, missing a place I have never been to, but it's where my parents and my grandparents lived. I remember all those bedtime stories my grandmother used to tell me about the land, the fence of roses they had, and her climbing trees and cutting fruits. How I miss that place.

But life must go on. My day starts with the smile of optimism and the plan of my day. Waking up early to go to my university; I have to attend all of my lectures even though some are boring. My friends are a big part of my day. We start with our updates and then go to courses where we can develop our skills. When I arrive home, I feel so exhausted, but still I continue working and studying hard. I am always looking for chances for personal development, whether through volunteer work or at school.

I was offered a great opportunity to volunteer with the aid organization Mercy Corps as a founding member of the Why Not? youth program, and then I had the pleasure of seeing this program blossom into the Global Citizen Corps, or GCC, a cultural exchange between Palestinian and American students. I believe this program is deeply important because it changes the negative impression of Palestinian youth that is too often spread by media.

All my friends and 1,000 others are engaged in this program, which develops our personalities, our skills and serves the community. We use digital media as a tool to express what we feel and what we do. We make changes in ourselves, in our community, and we pave the way for global change. We are thinking globally and acting locally.

My ambition is to be a researcher in business studies all over the world. I finished my B.A. and a diploma of business studies, and I hope to obtain a scholarship to do graduate work in media and development. I am also interested in the field of project management and human interaction management. I know it is a good ambition to be Ph.D. holder and a worldwide researcher, but as Palestinian girl, I have fewer opportunities, not because I am not qualified or hard-working enough but because I am Palestinian.

Usually Palestinian students have fewer opportunities than others to get scholarships, because it's hard for them to leave the Gaza Strip, as all of the borders are closed. But I have not lost hope, and I will not. I will keep trying to pursue my dream of being the researcher I want to be.

It's true that I am a girl, and girls face some challenges in our society. For example, I can't stay a late hour at work. But I am so happy and honored to be a Muslim; putting the scarf on my head is something that I love. To many foreigners, it might seem to be against women's freedom, but I can tell that when a lady is convinced of it, it becomes part of her self-esteem, her self-confidence and her protection each day. I feel sad when the world gets angry at Muslim girls while they are peaceful and happy, enjoying their choices and freedom.

I found that I'm not that different from Catherine, who lives in the United States and whom I contact through the Global Citizen Corps. I have realized how similar Palestinian youth are to youth all over the world. Catherine likes some of the food I like, and she loves swimming just like I do. There are also lovely differences between us: I tried to cook what she taught me once, and she is learning Arabic now.

Maybe our lifestyle is different. I focus on my own development; I spend most of my time working to become a more qualified person with more knowledge and skills. I do not work hard because I am super girl or I aspire to be one but because I always want to be ready for the worst situation. In Palestine where I live, surprises can happen at any time, and I don't want to be caught off guard. I want to make my future secure by being a really good person. I deserve to live.

I enjoy my life as it is now, but I hope that when I find a scholarship and live in the West, I will not be obliged to take off my scarf and won't hear negative comments about me because I am Muslim. I consider religion a personal freedom that is related to your beliefs and what you feel in your heart. I love letting others live in peace. ... Why can't we enjoy peace, too?

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of the writer.

We appreciate your continued and regular contributions to our blog. However, we have noticed that some bloggers are posting comments using the names of other regular bloggers. Kindly be advised that in future, any contributor posting messages under a different username than his/her habitual one will not see their comments published. Thank you for helping us avoid any further confusion.

By Manav Tanneeru
CNN

Part of "Generation Islam" – CNN's startling investigation into the heart of a generation at the crossroads. Christiane Amanpour reveals the struggle for hearts and minds of the next generation of Muslims. Be sure to tune in Thursday, Aug 13, 9 p.m. ET, Aug 14, 1 a.m GMT

(CNN) - Esra'a al Shafei, a recent university graduate in Bahrain, is young, Muslim and frustrated.

Andrew Tkach/CNN. Young Muslims, pictured here in Afghanistan, are increasingly using technology to engage the world.

The 23-year-old says the complexity of who she is as a Muslim is being distorted by extremists and the media coverage of them.

Channeling her frustration, she started Mideastyouth.com, a Web site she describes as a place for young people in the region to "show a different side of our religion" and discuss topics big and small, taboo and not.

She represents a generation of Muslims who are using technology to express themselves, connect with others, challenge traditional power structures and create an identity in an era when Islamic extremists often grab the headlines.

"I think the word that clearly defines the younger generation and also separates them from their parents is 'globalized,'" said Reza Aslan, the author of two books on Islam, including the recently published "How to Win a Cosmic War: God, Globalization and the End of the War on Terror."

Access to technology lags in countries with large Muslim populations compared with Europe and the United States. Access also varies between those countries depending on a variety of factors such as governmental control and economic development.

But the numbers of people using the Web and cell phones are growing - and quickly. "The percentage increases of Internet users in places like Iran, Pakistan and Egypt are astronomical during the past five years," Aslan said.

A recent study by Forrester Research predicted growth rates for Web usage would continue to soar in the region during the next five years.

A battle over interpretation

Al Shafei, who spoke to CNN by phone from Bahrain, said her Islamic identity was partly shaped by a childhood that included Christian classmates and American and British teachers.

She also grew up in a country that was relatively progressive enough to appoint a female Jewish ambassador recently. "Islam is much more relaxed here," she said. "But it doesn't mean we're not good Muslims."

She discovered blogs, and the more she read, the more she grew frustrated with the nature of the dialogue. "No one was talking to each other," she said.

The conflict between Hezbollah and Israel in 2006 was the turning point for her. "I was really annoyed by how the Western and Arab media were covering it," she said. "Both sides were sticking to the extremes."

She said she started her Web site that year to provide the world - and media - a different perspective on Islam. "We're not as simplistic as the media would often make of us," she said.

Al Shafei said the Web site's discussion subjects range from the political to the taboo, including homosexuality, premarital sex and atheism. The anonymity provided by the Web helps foster such discussion, she said.

She is, however, careful to avoid talking about some topics, which could get her in trouble. "I always remind myself that I have my limitations," she said. "There are various issues that I am unable to tackle for security reasons."

Al Shafei said she hopes that Web sites such as hers could help fight extremist Islamic groups by defeating their arguments through cultural and religious dialogue. But she concedes there's catching up to do.

"We have to move faster" because extremist groups are more widespread in traditional media such as newspapers and radio stations, which are still consumed by more people than new media such as Web sites, she said.

To read more, please click here

More from CNN's Iran coverage: The role of female protestors

Make sure you tune in to "World's Untold Stories – Inside Iraq: Living With The Enemy" Thursday, May 28 at 1030 CET; Saturday, May 30 at 1030 and 1900 CET; Sunday, May 31 at 1630 CET

By Arwa Damon
CNN

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) - I first met Abu Wissam at the foot of his son's shallow grave. Never will he be able to erase the last image he has of his son's body.

"He was cut to pieces," he said. "His hands and feet were chopped off. And he was decapitated."

For a long time, Iraqis would say that it was "outsiders" that were carrying out such atrocities. The truth that is so hard to accept for many is that that often was not the case.

Iraqis turned on each other, neighbors slaughtered neighbors, friends betrayed one another. It was the sheer degradation of society on a shocking and utterly petrifying scale.

Abu Wissam's son Raed was a 25-year-old business school student. His fiancee says that one day he got a phone call from a college friend asking to meet him. Little did she know that it was a plot to lure him out of the house and that it would be their last goodbye.

They were childhood sweethearts. She says they knew that they would get married from the time they were six. "All I do now is cry," she sobs.

Raed's mother can barely form a coherent sentence. Her voice shakes with every word, uncontrollable tears pour down her face. Her hands tremble holding Raed's worn-out photograph. From time to time she caresses the image, the face that she will never touch again.

"I don't sleep." She stutters. "I take pills ... I live on pills."

"Nights aren't nights anymore, days aren't days. They cut his hands off, they cut his head off." Watch World's Untold Stories – Inside Iraq: Living with the Enemy »

As the last words leave her mouth she can no longer speak, only cry.

The militia behind the kidnapping was the self proclaimed Mehdi Army, a Shia militia loyal to radical cleric Muqtada al-Sadr. And the militiamen were once friends and neighbors.

For years my colleagues and I have reported on the atrocities committed by Shia militias, Sunni insurgents, and al Qaeda gunmen.

We recited the daily tally of unidentified, mutilated bodies found in the streets of Baghdad. We spoke of beheadings, kidnappings and torture. But little did we really know about any of it.

Now that there is a semblance of so-called stability, we can start to put a face and name to the victims and begin to try and understand and impart the horrors of what millions of Iraqis lived through and tens of thousands died from. It is only now that we can begin to comprehend the magnitude of what Iraqis went through.

Raed's body was found in the courtyard of a mosque not far from his home. Abu Wissam says that the militia accused Raed of being a spy for the Americans. They demanded $10,000 for Raed's corpse. Abu Wissam paid. The killers did not hand it over.

Nearly a year later, once the militia was forced underground by the "Sons of Iraq" - a rival U.S. backed militia - he found Raed's body. Twenty-seven other bodies were also dug up, including that of a teenage girl. We're told that the militiamen shaved her head before they slaughtered her. Her family is too petrified to speak to us.

Others clamor around our camera crew. Clutching photographs of their loved ones still missing. Desperate to grasp on to any thread that might lead them to those who vanished. They tell us about how they used to hear the victims' screams, how that sound still haunts them.

They tell us the killers are still out there.

The pain is palpable. So much sorrow and anguish, choking emotions, sheer helplessness, in just one location, one mosque in Baghdad with dried blood still streaking the walls.

How does a society just rip apart like that? How do families that have grown up together for generations suddenly turn on one another?

There are plenty of experts and analysts offering their opinions.

As for Abu Wissam, he doesn't know why the people he cheerily said good morning to for decades all of a sudden slaughtered his boy.

"They were our neighbors, they lived in the homes around us," Abu Wissam says.

He tells us how on hot summer days when ice was in short supply and power cuts were rampant, he would take a cold pitcher of water over to their house. He tells us these were the people who sold vegetables at the market.

Now murderers.

Can a father ever forgive his son's killers? Stop seeking justice?

The families of the victims often gather at Abu Wissam's house. They don't talk of reconciliation or forgiveness. They talk of wanting justice - and that means the killers' detention and execution.

"The government has done nothing for us," one of the mothers gathered there says, her voice filled with anger and frustration.

"We will take our own revenge. I say that as a woman, I don't have a man who can stand up for me, I will take revenge with my own hands. I will booby-trap myself and head towards them, towards their families."

"I could hurt their families. But I am not like them, I am not like the Mehdi militia," Abu Wissam says. "They killed my son. I am looking for rule of law."

He has worked with the Iraqi security forces identifying the members of the militia, operating with them on raids. And he has come face to face with some of his son's killers. And he asked them why.

"They said, 'We had orders to kill. For each person we killed they gave us $10,000,' " Abu Wissam says. "Their families are still defending them, saying our sons didn't do anything."

The killers are now cab drivers, college students, entrepreneurs. They've melted back into society.

How can they live with themselves and the cold-blooded reality of what they have done? How can a society that has been so violently ripped apart come back together?

The political and military leadership speak in positive overtones. We're watching U.S. troops fulfill a timeline to "end the war," so desperate is America for some sort of ending.

But it is not over. For Iraqis it's far from over. In many ways it is just beginning.

Make sure you tune in to "World's Untold Stories – Inside Iraq: Living With The Enemy" Thursday, May 28 at 1030 CET; Saturday, May 30 at 1030 and 1900 CET; Sunday, May 31 at 1630 CET

Deadly blast at Iranian mosque
TEHRAN, Iran (CNN) - An explosion rocked a mosque in southeastern Iran on Thursday, killing at least 15 people and wounding more than 50, Iranian news outlets reported.

Israeli forces kill local Hamas leader
JERUSALEM (CNN) - Israeli anti-terror forces killed a suspected West Bank Hamas military leader Thursday, the country's military announced.

France opens Gulf military base
Abu Dhabi, UAE (CNN) - France established Tuesday its first strategic foothold in the Gulf, when President Nicolas Sarkozy opened a French military base in Abu Dhabi, the United Arab Emirates.

Yemen denies reports of deadly clashes
(CNN) - Yemen's state-run news agency denied reports that clashes between police and anti-government demonstrators left three people dead and 25 others injured in the southern port town of Aden.

Ex-inmate recalls days of abuse at Abu Ghraib
BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) - Abu Ahmed says he was there: An Iraqi held prisoner at Abu Ghraib by the American military when inmates were abused.

Tycoon, ex-cop guilty of pop star's murder
CAIRO, Egypt (CNN) - An Egyptian business tycoon and a former police officer have been found guilty of the July slaying of rising Lebanese pop singer Suzanne Tamim.

With the deadline for U.S. troops to withdraw from urban centers in Iraq, violence is on the rise. CNN's Cal Perry reports.

Cal Perry reports. Click here to watch