News reaches Harry’s Place of the election results of the London School of Economics Palestinian Society.
Nadia Marques De Carvalho, I’m told is not only the Media Officer, but also the Events Officer. More about her particular media style here.
The other Events Officer is Sharaiz Chaudhry, a poet:
I was not born when they shot my mother.
Ripped me out her womb when I was too young to cry.
Too young to know what monsters they were.
They came through our town
Killing and raping as they go.
I’m happy that I died before Allah put me through this.
I was only three when they took my parents.
They bombed our house in 98.
I lay by their dead bodies for hours.
I called my father’s name but he didn’t reply.
His face was burnt,
But he escaped this hell
When I was seven they shot my sister.
They took her life while she ran across the road.
Caught in the crossfire
She lay on the path, motionless.
She left me alone,
To suffer the pains to come
They built this wall over us.
It blocks the sunlight whilst I walk.
But there never was light here,
Not since 1948 when they took my father’s land.
They kill us day and night
But the world remains silent to our suffering.
The bombs fall over us,
I only hear stories of days in Jerusalem.
I fight against their oppression
With a gun in my hand and a bomb on my chest.
Fighting with the Mujahideen.
Only seeking the pleasure of Allah till I reach him.
Blood drips from my neck.
The pain is nothing compared to what I’ve seen.
I see my sister, I see my father, I see my mother.
I see the shaheed, I see Musa, I see Muhammad.
They put out their arms to greet me.
I reach into Allah’s hands from where I came
I see Jerusalem and an army overflowing it.
The liberation from tyranny.
They enter al-Aqsa and the imam gives the call to prayer.
They line up, shoulder to shoulder
And praise the glory of Allah
And the day when Palestine is liberated.