At the March for Palestine in Cardiff on Saturday 16th December, two Palestinians read out their poems to the crowd that had gathered outside the central library. Here the two poems, by Lujane Hamzeh and Tala Ghazal, are published in full.
The next March for Palestine will be held this Saturday, 23rd December at 12.30pm, Aneurin Bevan Statue, Queen St, Cardiff.
Cover image: Tala Ghazal reads out her poem in Cardiff last Saturday.
When You Talk to a Palestinian Raised in Diaspora, by Lujane Hamzeh
When you talk to a Palestinian raised in diaspora, know that although they might’ve never met their homeland, they’ve inherited her resilience, her love for people, her tolerance and her patience.
When you talk to a Palestinian raised in diaspora, talk to them like you understand what its like to be stripped of your identity. talk to them like you understand what it’s like to lose all your family.
When you talk to a Palestinian raised in diaspora, know that the flames of their rage cannot be put out. know that their strength comes from their roots. know that the only language they speak is that of justice and liberation.
When you talk to a Palestinian raised in diaspora, talk to them like you understand that their family is being ethnically cleansed. talk to them like you understand what it’s like to resist occupation when the entire world is standing with the oppressor. talk to them like you understand that they’ve been caged, starved, bombed and tortured. because they’ll remind you that they cannot be erased.
Palestine will change the world because its history has been written in blood.
I am a Palestinian raised in diaspora, talk to me like you understand that your silence is louder than your voice. talk to me when you’re ready to denounce the dehumanising language and actions towards us. talk to me when you view people with a colonised history as humans.
I am a Palestinian raised in diaspora. talk to me like you know that they’re targeting our children because they know that their liberated mindsets and dreams are more powerful than any weapons. talk to me like you’re infuriated that they are planning to build a holy land for their children on the graves of our children.
I am a Palestinian raised in diaspora. don’t just talk to me, stand with me against injustice because collectively we’re stronger. don’t just talk to me, shout with me until they hear us. shout how many more innocent civilians must be killed before we can be angry?
shout how many more kids are supposed to cry before we drown in their tears.
shout how many more illegal weapons can a state use before they’re deemed terrorists.
shout how many more until you call this a genocide
shout how many more until you call for a ceasefire
I am a Palestinian raised in diaspora. I stand hand in hand with you. We talk to those who are complicit like we don’t understand how they’ve washed their hands of the blood of the Palestinian children.
We are humans. As a human, stand with me against injustice, occupation, hate, Islamophobia, antisemitism, violence and aggression.
As a human, stand with me until we see a liberated world.
A Little Bit About My Culture, by Tala Ghazal
I’m Palestinian.
I’m Palestinian and that means that in many cases I need to justify why my people have a right to exist. I’m Palestinian.
I’m Palestinian and that means that in many countries my identity is invalidated. I’m Palestinian.
I’m Palestinian and that means that I have to fight for my right to return. I have to fight for my right to return to a land whose history is so deep, Tradition so right, People so loving.
I’m Palestinian.
I’m Palestinian and that means that the blood that rushes through my veins is that of the very same people who nurtured the land that is so rightfully ours. The blood of people who celebrated life. Everyday. It is the blood of people who less than a mere century ago welcomed thousands of migrants from all kinds of backgrounds with open arms. We embraced them into our home. Into our culture.
Oh, our culture.
As a Palestinian diaspora it is this very culture that kept me grounded to a land that I could never step foot on. Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. A culture where a friend to one is a friend to all. Where the definition of family stretches far beyond those who are related to you and encapsulates all those who neighbour you, befriend you, help you and celebrate you.
It is a definition built around those you care about, and those who care about you. Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. A culture where we bond together over the sound of the tabla or the ney of the oud.
Where we jump and laugh hand in hand as we dabke around the living room coffee table. Where every occasion is a reason to celebrate and play music as we sway our hips and clap our hands.
Where we twirl around as we call teta to come dance with us. Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. It is a culture which celebrates the fruit of our labour like no other.
Where harvest season is commemorated with a stunning msakkhan feast. A feast which my aunts and grandmother spent all morning preparing, dousing bread with litres of freshly pressed olive oil straight from the holy land.
Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. It is a culture where stories are woven through thread, making garments which tell a tale with every panel of embroidery and stitching. Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. Where generations come together over figs and oranges. Honey-like and straight from the farm.
Where we gather around our sido’s kitchen table to share the crates of seasonal fruit, passing the biggest and juiciest pieces to our mothers and fathers. Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. My culture where a guest is treated to meals whose recipes have been followed for generations.
Where a visit is not complete without the piping hot tray of Knafeh, cheese oozing and garnished generously with pistachios. Where we unwind with ‘kaset shay b na’naa’ using leaves straight from the garden.
Let me tell you a little bit about my culture. Where no matter the circumstance, we hold onto hope. No matter the darkness, we create light. And no matter how many times the world tries to push us down, we rise.
I’m Palestinian. I’m Palestinian and for that, I will carry her legacy for the rest of my life.
