The Monthly Cartoon is managed by a political cartoonist called A. Abdelazim from Egypt (me!). Most of my ideas start the same way: I read a headline, pause for a second, and think, this can’t be real. Then I check again and realize it is. That very very small moment of disbelief, when something feels unreal but completely true, is usually where the cartoon begins.

Before I continue with my rant, it feels fair to show you the person behind the drawings.


A. Abdelazim 
(on his 23rd birthday)

As you can see, my cartoons are simple on purpose. Black and white drawings, minimal details, short captions. I like the idea that a small image can carry a big thought without saying too much. I am not trying to explain the world as much as I am trying to point to the moment when something strange starts to feel normal.

The idea behind this website is simple. Think of it as a monthly cartoon newspaper. You can come back each month and see the cartoons from that month collected in one place, like an edition you can browse through. I upload new cartoons every week, and once a piece is finished, you will find it here as part of that month’s collection. Over time, it becomes a small archive of the headlines, moments, and contradictions that shaped each month as they happened.

The cartoons published on this website are works of satire and personal artistic expression. They are not intended to attack, target, or harm any individual or group. The purpose of this project is to reflect on current events and everyday life through humor, symbolism, and visual storytelling. Any resemblance to real persons or events is part of broader social commentary rather than personal criticism.

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Desk & Tools
The Hardest Cartoon I Didn’t Draw

I wasn’t out hunting for an idea. I was just walking past a school right when the gates opened and the street filled with kids pouring out all at once. Backpacks bouncing, parents calling names, that messy, loud, everyday scene that feels so normal you don’t even think about it at all. You know those small stuff you see everyday that quietly tell you that life is moving forward? That was one of them.

A few steps away from the school gate, a woman was sitting on the sidewalk selling vegetables. Next to her stood her child. He wasn’t playing,he wasn’t even moving much. He was just watching the other kids leave school with such a look on his face that I can never forget. Right behind them, painted in red across the wall, were the words “Long live Egypt,” integrated into the flag and its red, white, and black colors.

It was such a strange frame to look at. A big, confident sentence about the future, and right underneath it a child standing still while other children walked home from school. I don’t think the person who wrote the slogan ever imagined it would sit above a moment like that. It was supposed to be loud and hopeful. The scene beneath it was sad, quite tired and very real.

I took my phone out to take a photo. As I did so, I recevied a call, and I the kid left the frame running to the other side of the pavement to get himself some water. He left, but the image stayed in my head for the rest of the day. That sentence kept echoing. “Long live Egypt.” It’s such a certain sentence. It assumes a future. It assumes time.


As I got home and tried to turn the moment into a cartoon, something felt off. I opened Procreate, started sketching the scene from memory, tried to simplify it the way I usually do, tried to find the metaphor or exaggeration that would make the point clearer. But this time the more I sketched, the more unnecessary the drawing felt.

The scene had already arranged itself. The composition was already there. The slogan, the child, the school gate, the distance between them — nothing needed exaggeration because reality had already done that part. Every attempt to redraw it felt like I was making it less honest, less direct, almost softer than what I had actually seen.

At some point I stopped sketching and just looked at the photo again. It was already the cartoon.




I keep this story here because it reminds me why cartooning exists in the first place. Not to invent reality, not to exaggerate it, but to notice the moments when reality quietly exaggerates itself.