genocide
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Every time someone asks me how I feel about the ceasefire, all I can think of is: collective gaslighting.Gaslighting about the meaning of peace, about ethnic cleansing, about a slow, well-engineered genocide, and about colonization itself. One of the defining features of modern oppression is the battle over perception; the violence on the ground matched Read more
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Salam Anas. You’ve been on my mind since yesterday. Like others, I was waiting for you to be alive, waiting for your voice to announce the ceasefire. I am sorry you are not. Anas, your friend Saleh woke up the rest just to tell them the ceasefire agreement was signed. He was near Al-Shifa’a hospital Read more
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For most of my life, laughter has been my armour. Joking, smiling, finding something absurd in the middle of a crisis; it’s how I learned to survive. People often assume I’m always happy, and comment how beautiful my smile is, and how radiant my energy can be. Even the pharmacist looks surprised when I pick Read more
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A few years ago, I worked in a humanitarian organization where it was painfully clear we had a senior leadership problem. Eventually, the organization hired a well-known consultancy firm to come in, assess the situation, and propose solutions. After three months of interviews, surveys, and analysis, they convened a meeting to present the findings to Read more
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In my first term of my master’s in leadership studies, I was caught off guard when a professor referred to post-colonialism. “Post-what?” I wondered. When did colonialism end? No one told us?! As a Palestinian, I know we do not live in a “post” era! Our dispossession, our occupation, our erasure; these are not chapters Read more
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For as long as I can remember, I’ve held a belief that guides how I see the world: I stand for humanity, I stand for justice, for the oppressed, and for the voiceless. I don’t believe anyone’s worth should be defined by their religion, skin color, culture, or nationality. As children, we instinctively reject injustice. Read more
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My mother used to say:If we die, we die together.She held me and my brother close to her heart,flesh against flesh,not out of comfort,but to ensure our bodies would be found as one. In Lebanon, just like in Gaza… nowhere was safe.She would not take refuge in shelters“Rubble buries names,” she said.She wanted our bodies Read more
Glittery Gaze 