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Two steps forward, one step back


We grow so accustomed to certain rituals, like the way we have our morning coffee without a touch of cream, but I never thought I would find death so routine. Three years into an unjust war against my country and each day turning into another dozen of funerals, yet here I am sipping my coffee and staring at a screen as if nothing is happening. It’s not that I am unmoved by the reality of what’s going on, rather I’ve been programmed into an object that finds death nothing out of the ordinary. The daily raids that steal these lives no longer fill me with sadness but the void is filled with hatred and rage towards not only the coalition that’s attacking us, but also the people who watch the suffering silently and believe -yes, truly believe- that they are allowed to be so unbiased. Three years into this war and here I am done with my first year of university but have absolutely no future to think of, not a single plan for the next few years other than praying that my backyard won’t double as my graveyard. So many events have occurred and so many people have died, so many people are still dying but I am still alive, and I don’t know why. Why I was chosen to live an extra day. As the time passes I come to realization that the extra day is a test and I promise to surpass the misfortunes of my life in a war-bound country. I will stick to my choice to stay here under the shower of air raids and I’ll move forward, step by step to make my journey worth while, to make a difference. "To make a difference" this is why I blog even if I rarely do so, because I honestly get to a point where I no longer want to type all I want to do is sleep and hope for the best, but I don’t want my backyard to be my graveyard, I don’t want today to be my last day. I want the chance to dream of a thousand other tomorrows, I want the opportunity to apprise and to inspire. I don’t want to take place behind a set of unwritten words and hope my voice is heard, I want to speak of these stories ten years from now. I want the infants I see today to have someone left from these times to tell them of all what we have endured and all what we’ve surpassed. The mountains of grief and melancholy we’ve climbed. I want to beat the odds and make it through to tell them what a journey Yemen has passed in the struggle towards freedom and sovereignty. Yes, I believe that someday, one day we will have won this battle against the world’s cruelest leaders. 
Artwork by: Ahmed Jahaf 

Comments

  1. arreumbAugust 27, 2018 at 1:26 PM

    "Others" are not different from the killers, they know every detail of the crimes perpetrated in Yemen, the bombs on schools, weddings, funerals, hospitals, busses crowded of children.
    "Others" know perfectly well that cholera, lack of food, of water, of medicines is mainly a consequence of the bombs that they sell to those criminals: they share the same responsibility for those crimes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. UnknownAugust 30, 2018 at 6:48 AM

      I'm so sure of your ability to visualize the misery along with the pride of this gracious nation to the word though I no longer have any respect for .
      I am so proud that Iam your MAMA .

      Delete

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