At eleven, he was driving a tractor through his family’s wheat fields and almond orchards. It was only natural that he’d choose to study plant sciences at Hebrew University. During his undergraduate studies, he undertook a research project in Prof. Yehoshua (Shuki) Saranga’s lab. One day, Shiran was summoned to take a look at a fellow student’s teff field – one agronomist helping another.

This field trip was the first step in what has become an eight-year journey for Shiran. Teff, a native Ethiopian grain, was brimming with promise: a nutritious crop that could grow through the hot, dry Israeli summer. Shiran was hooked. He began a master’s degree at the Institute of Plant Sciences and Genetics in Agriculture, working under the guidance of Prof. Saranga, studying 400+ varieties of teff seeds that had been sitting in a vault since the 1970s. Planting a subset of the seeds in study fields in different climates, he identified the varieties’ core traits and how the environment affected their growth.

Shiran Ben-Zeev (Photographer: Neta Levinson)

Yet soon a problem arose. For no apparent reason, some teff plants permanently bend over. Lodging, as it is known, causes dampness and mold, reduces growth, or simply places the seeds out of reach for mechanical harvesting. Ready to tackle this challenge, Shiran transferred to the direct PhD track.

Shiran is employing a three-pronged approach: identifying the ideal depth and density for planting seeds, studying teff’s genome, and comparing how root size and structure affect lodging.

Only a small number of researchers worldwide study teff, and Shiran’s work has overturned a number of assumptions. He surveyed an unprecedented number of varieties, developed best practices for planting, and has shown that teff has a potential yield twofold higher than previously thought.

In his spare time, Shiran hosts the Robert H. Smith Faculty of Agriculture’s podcast, HaHakulta, and looks forward to his postdoctoral appointment at the US-Israel Agricultural Research and Development Fund (BARD).

“I greatly enjoy the environment at the Smith Faculty. Many of the professors come from a farming background themselves – it feels like peer-to-peer learning. We all want to improve Israeli agriculture.”

Published: December 15, 2022

This may sound like the distant past, but it is not. The fact that I am writing these lines today – writing! – attests to the amazing transformations that I’ve experienced over the last thirty years, made possible entirely by education.

By Dr. Muhammad Al-Nabari

* * *

I am a Bedouin and I hold a doctorate in chemistry. But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’d always been a good student. When I was fourteen, my life changed dramatically. My eldest brother, who never had the opportunity to earn a higher education, decided to support me and send me to a top-notch high school. There was nothing in the Negev. Anyone serious about pursuing an education had to travel north. I was sent to Jatt, which was considered one of the best schools.

The first day of school, the English teacher asked me, “Tell me about your village.” I was silent. I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t have a village, only an encampment. He mistook my silence for ignorance and shouted, “What are you even doing here? Did you come all the way from the south to sit silently?” His words were sharp, they hurt. I was determined to prove myself.

Dr. Al-Nabari as a graduate student, in his chemistry lab at the Hebrew University

I worked hard, fully dedicating myself to my studies. I shared an apartment with classmates. It was like living in the dorms, but we were teenagers. At that age, you either grow up fast or wander. I matured a lot; it was a wonderful period in my life. I visited my family once a month. Friday was our day off, but I couldn’t make the round trip in a single day. I’d skip class on Thursday and spend the day traveling by bus. I’d have a few precious hours and spend the night. By early Friday morning I’d be back on the road, heading back north.

I was set on attending university. In eleventh grade I took the psychometric exam and scored well. But I needed money. After graduating high school with top marks, I spent a year working in agriculture. Eleven, twelve hours of backbreaking work in the sun. I learned Hebrew in the field, and attended English classes at night.

After a year, I had saved enough money and was accepted to Hebrew University to study chemistry.

* * *

I arrived on the Givat Ram campus in the summer of 1989 for an intensive English summer program. I lived in the HaElef dorms, nothing like the dorms you’d find at the University today, shacks really. Tiny rooms with shared bathrooms and sinks – and, as it turned out, leaky roofs. Mid-winter I moved to better dorms.

Chemistry requires a lot of math and physics. I was always good at math, but physics had never been my strong suit. There were about twenty-five Arab students, we became friends and would study together. Later, working in the lab, I had a more diverse group of friends.

I’d go home once a month. The night before, I’d stay up studying until dawn. At 6:30am I’d be outside the University gate to catch the direct bus to Beersheva. The driver knew me, he’d let me off along the highway. The same happened on Sundays; the Jerusalem-bound driver knew to look for me at the side of the road and would pick me up.

Initially, tuition took up half of my father’s income. In my second semester, Hebrew University gave me a scholarship that covered most of my expenses. This alleviated the burden on my family and enabled me to study without working. I needed to earn high enough grades to continue to graduate studies.

I completed my master’s degree in Prof. Yehuda Knobler’s lab, synthesizing peptides using unconventional methods. I could spend entire days in the lab, immersed in my work. But the days I had to teach – I would be wiped out. I knew I’d never teach. My future would be in industry and research.

By that time, I had more flexibility and owned a car. I traveled south more often, maintaining and fostering my ties in the Negev and in Hura. I was involved in founding the first Association of Bedouin Academics. For a decade, I volunteered to head a local non-profit organization that promoted academic education for Bedouins and opened the first six daycare centers in Hura. We dreamt of establishing a school for excellence.

I spent five wonderful years at Hebrew University, thriving in its academic eco-system. I grew as a person, I developed as a scientist, and was already becoming a role model in my community. Those were not easy years – Jerusalem and the country were undergoing turmoil. But I found serenity on campus, in the lab. Working together, side by side, is the best way to break down barriers.

I opted for doctoral studies closer to home, at Ben-Gurion University. It was more like a job. I’d spend the day in the lab, then go home to my wife and children. After completing my doctorate, I joined ChemAgis (today Perrigo) as head of the R&D division. I’d been working on a particular task for six months to no avail. My predecessor had been stumped for four years. I called a colleague from Prof. Knobler’s lab to talk about the problem, and he suggested a different approach, using benzyl chloroformate. As luck had it, he had some in the lab. I drove like a madman – we met mid-way. I raced back to try it out. Eureka! It worked and we beat our Japanese competitors to market. I left industry after only three and a half years, with six patents to my name, and six joint patents.

Moving back to the Negev was moving home. By then there was a sizable community of Hura residents studying and working. Many were academics. We would get together, talk about ways to improve Hura. It was decided that I should run for head of the local council. It sounded preposterous, but I did – and won! I went on to win three more elections, remaining in office for 14 years.

I was an outsider, with no experience in the public sector. That ended up being to my advantage. I suddenly had access to resources and was in a position to foster partnerships. By then, Hura was a small municipality. It was one of the poorest towns in Israel, with a small municipal budget, rampant crime, and almost no municipal services. Over the course of my terms, I increased municipal tax collection, installed security cameras, opened a municipal hotline, and grew Hura’s budget fourfold. Residents became proud of Hura. But improving the present wasn’t enough – I had to create a better future. Employment and education were key.

I re-established the Association of Bedouin Academics and opened an R&D center for Bedouins. I founded, along with partners, a catering service that employs local women to cook for schools, built a sewage purification plant, and opened a nationwide, Arabic language telephone support center. But the true shift wasn’t merely creating employment opportunities – it was an innovative approach: helping the weakest members of society by developing solutions, rather than merely describing the problem. I transformed Hura into a beta site for testing government programs. We were able to develop and implement programs that demonstrated myriad ways for improving people’s lives.

Most importantly, I was finally able to open the school for scientific excellence that we had dreamt of a decade earlier – the first serving Bedouin students. Thirty years ago, who would have believed that we’d have such a school in the Negev, in Hura? In 2013 students from this school won the gold and silver medals in the First Step to Nobel Prize in Physics competition. Imagine that – students who live in tents without electricity! By the end of my time in office, over 50% of the Bedouin STEM students at Ben-Gurion University were Hura graduates.

I strongly believe that the Bedouins will be, must be, the engine behind the Negev’s development and economic growth. There is huge potential: 80% of the Bedouin population is under the age of 30 and the median age is 17 years old. We are witnessing radical transitions: from tribal belonging to spatial, urban affinity. From sheikh rule to democratic rule. Rather than evolving, we’re accelerating. As any scientist knows, acceleration can lead to instability. But the Bedouin community is brimming with potential. With good education, anything is possible.

I decided against running for a fourth term and am focusing my energy on the national level. I founded two initiatives: Yanabia (Springs), which models five areas of life critical for economic growth, and Desert Stars, which is training the future generation of Bedouin leaders – shifting their thinking to encompass the entire Bedouin community, rather than along tribal lines.

I am a Bedouin and I am proud. Proud of my heritage and my values – the same values that my father, and my grandfather before him, were raised with. I aspire to pass these values onto my own children, a valuable gift passing through the generations.

I am a Bedouin and I am a leader – leading my community into the 21^st century. I’m proud of my accomplishments thus far, and am excited for the challenges that lie ahead. I will strive, struggle, and succeed. I know I can do it – after all, I am a Hebrew University alumnus!

Dr. Al-Nabari (left) celebrating an international sustainable development project with the
former Minister of Agriculture, Mr. Yair Shamir (2nd left) and Prof. Michael Ben-Eli (center) 

Published: September 20, 2023

In the first two weeks of the conflict, Israel witnessed an unprecedented surge in volunteerism, with an astonishing 48.6% of the population actively participating—a notable increase from previous crises. 

Half of Israelis Volunteered in First Two Weeks of Iron Swords War

A shining example of this unity, ten international students from Rothberg International School at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem collaborated with the Human Front community organization to provide support to Jerusalem residents affected by the war. These dedicated students prepared meals for those in need, meticulously chopping hundreds of vegetables, cooking large quantities of rice and pasta, and crafting generous servings of antipasto, salads, and sauces, benefiting approximately 160 individuals.

Explore their heartwarming efforts in the images below showcasing the international students in action. 

Thanks to all our wonderful volunteers!

Photos: https://huji.canto.global/b/VQNMO

Published: November 6, 2023 

He applied to Hebrew University against all odds, studied in a language he does not speak at home, completed two degrees within four years, repeatedly made the Dean’s List, started a PhD at the age of 22, and has become a role model in his community.

Aseel was born to educated parents and grew up in the Druze village of Hurfeish. Good students were expected to choose either medicine, law, or engineering. In fact, until the 11^th grade, Aseel was set on studying medicine. But then he had a change of heart. “I didn’t want a doctor’s lifestyle,” he recalls. He had always loved biology, discovering the unknown. “Biologists are the engineers,” he jokes, “and doctors just implement their findings.”

While the Druze community does serve in the military, Aseel received a medical exemption. He knew that his next step would be higher education, and he was encouraged to study closer to home, where he would surely earn top marks. In particular, he was warned against Hebrew University – it was too hard, people said. Not one to follow the herd, he went online and registered at Hebrew University.

He found himself, 17 years old, living in Jerusalem, and studying biology in Hebrew. “We learned Hebrew in school,” he explains. “We just didn’t learn to use it.” He completed his BSc within 2.5 years, and then joined an accelerated MSc track towards the end of his studies, and he was selected to receive a generous scholarship from the Strasal Foundation.

Aseel discovered his interest in stem cells and embryology in Prof. Nissim Benvenisty’s lab, where he completed his doctoral research. The next decision was easy: Aseel decided to continue to doctoral studies.

Aseel is working on two research projects. The first focuses on the FMR1 gene which, when silenced (inactive), causes Fragile X Syndrome. He is working on identifying chemical ways to reactivate the gene in vitro.

 His second research project is in parental imprinting, which determines whether specific genes (from either  the sperm or the egg) are expressed. When improperly executed, the embryo can develop any number of  imprinting disorders, such as Prader-Willi syndrome, Angelman syndrome, or others. Aseel is trying to identify  specific regulators that affect imprinting, to provide insight into this process and offer a path towards a cure.

 His scholarships make it possible for Aseel to devote all his attention to his studies. “I was making a living as a  tutor. Now everything I do is on campus. Even as a teaching assistant, my mind is wrapped around my own  research.”  

 Every year, Aseel is invited to address students at his old high school. He tells them to listen to their hearts. “Follow what you love,” he tells them. “You can be whatever you want to be.” In fact, since he enrolled at Hebrew University, additional students from his village, and the Druze community, have followed in his footsteps – including his brother.

Today there are about 100 Druze students on campus, and they meet regularly through a studen club, Sabil (“path”). “I love hanging out with other Druze students, since we’re a minority within a minority. I still feel connected to my village, even when I’m in Jerusalem,” he says.

Published: June 2, 2024

Seeking to make such a connection, the Bioinformatics lab where Shirel works makes use of genetic data from hundreds of thousands of people, provided by a British biobank or “database” of voluntarily provided information.

An algorithm created several years ago is then applied to the genetic data in order to indicate any association between the gene and the development of a disease, based on the variations of the population in the biobank.

The 22-year-old biologist was born in Belgium but grew up in Israel. She made her way to Hebrew University after completing her undergraduate degree at the Jerusalem College of Technology, where she studied bioinformatics - using science, statistics, and math to analyze vast amounts of biological data.

After her bachelor’s, Shirel gave much thought to whether she wanted to use her knowledge in the working world, or to advance her studies. She quickly came to the conclusion that striking out in her field without further studies was a “little risky,” and decided to pursue her master's degree.

Shirel has high praise for the program and the ethos at Hebrew University, which the budding biologist encourages both collaborative and independent work.

“There is a very good atmosphere of research,” she says. “There is freedom of research; everyone can work on what they like or are interested in. And everyone is here for the science, which is fun.”

Shirel also highlights the constant cooperation between research labs and readiness to consult with one another, as well as the seminars that take place weekly, which are designed to expand the students’ knowledge in their field.

Crucially, as a postgraduate master’s research student in her chosen field of biology, Shirel’s scholarship means she can focus solely on her research without having to fund her studies with a job.

“It gives you peace of mind to know that while you are studying, money is not a primary concern,” she says.

And for that Shirel is eminently grateful. The donors who make the scholarships possible should know that it really gives the students freedom to focus, she says.

“It is a sign of faith - there is belief in you, that you are doing something worthy.” 

Published: January 22, 2026