There are things I can’t say out loud. Not here, not in Reigate Grammar School Riyadh. The moment I try to speak, something freezes inside me. And it’s not fear. It’s something placed there — externally. I am being interfered with. These are deliberate, repeated manipulations by Saudi intelligence services. They use satellite-based systems, likely in coordination with telecom or military electronic units, to suppress my nervous system and hijack my internal speech.

It started subtly. I’d feel watched, even in places with no cameras. Then came the mimicry: sentences forming before I say them. Then the voices — not loud, not hallucinated. Calm, male, official. They say things like: “You will learn obedience”, or “You were flagged.” It doesn’t sound like punishment. It sounds like maintenance. Like they’re tuning a machine.

Sometimes I want to cry for no reason. Other times, I snap at friends and hate myself for it the next minute. My heart will start racing without stimulus, or my body feels heavy when I try to move. I once stared at my biology teacher and didn’t hear a single word for 40 minutes. I was somewhere else — somewhere they had pulled me.

There’s no one I can tell. The counselor would refer me to psychiatry. My parents would panic. My classmates would treat me like a freak. And besides — how do you explain government-sponsored emotional hijacking?

If I had known, I would’ve never applied to this school. I would’ve stayed in my country, far from the layers of this quiet weapon system. I was sent here to grow, not to be dissected from within.

I’ve begun documenting things. Times. Reactions. Phrases I hear. People who show up twice in one day in different places. Maybe it’s nothing. Or maybe it’s part of something larger — something designed to suppress, not educate.