What’s on my mind lately? Thanks for asking.
I’m hungry; I cannot ask for food, I must ask for permission. I am hurt; I cannot ask for a doctor, I must ask permission. I’m safe under my tarpaulin roof; I cannot ask to remain where I live, I must ask permission. I was just asking “why”; now I cannot ask to them to stop beating me, it just is. My son is 9, he asks many questions; our school has been razed.
I have learned to not blink when a bomb goes off, all I ask is to close my eyes each night to the sounds of my father singing, my mother cleaning dishes in the basin. I don’t need to blink, but may I close my eyes in reposeful sleep, with the remembrance of my sister who, in slow motion, blinks one last time as the missile strikes. I ask to bury her…there is no land left for the living, let alone the dead.
I will not ask permission to be brave, and fearless, and humble, and perseverant, amidst all this death and destruction. You need no permission, ask me to teach you life, by living. Do not be inspired by my endurance of oppression, but rather my resilience to ask, to live. Ask.
