#Samah Fadil

[houseofpurplestars]

Palestinian writer Samah Fadil posted on twitter that two of her cousins were able to evacuate Gaza

[laurellynnleake]

Who is left out when we narrate the story of Palestine? - Zena Agha, Skin Deep Magazine, 8/8/22

The pieces in [PALESTINE: WAYS OF BEING] are efforts to shape our future. They shed light on three un- and under-explored areas of Palestinian life: queerness, incarceration and Blackness. Looking at where we came from and where we’re going, they expand on some of the ways of being Palestinian today.

Tareq Baconi: Dreams of a Palestine where I can hold myself whole

Living in a time not mine: An anonymous letter from inside an Israeli prison

Mousa Qous: In the heart of the Old City, generations of Afro-Palestinians persevere in the face of occupation

Samah Fadil: Putting the pieces together: Fragments of oral history in exile

illustration by Aude Nasr @audenasr

[kitchen-light]

As a Palestinian in diaspora, nothing builds my connection to the land more than literature. It is not just the scenes detailed by our great poets that makes the ground feel realer under my feet, but the gravitational pull towards each other that gives me belief in that liberated homeland. In my work as a critic, I’ve often played it safe; devoted my time to works I loved or could situate as a positive contribution to the culture, shying away from being public in my negative critiques. As I read and re-read Ghassan Kanafani’s On Zionist Literature, I am reminded that this work is, in fact, a matter of life-or-death; literatures can set the stage for the attempted annihilation of a people, and it is our responsibility to point to it. How often have I chosen a slow death in service of comfort? The truth is, I have never been able to look around a room and not see the genocidal escalation to come—if the vitriolic disregard for human life, for Palestinian life, did not permeate through to our most mundane of activities, over 18,000 Palestinians would not have been killed in the past 67 days, over 1.5 million would not be displaced from Gaza. As Gaza’s poets are assassinated, as the libraries are destroyed, as Palestinians across historic Palestine (and all over the world) are arrested for dissent, as writers face censorship globally for speaking the truth of the genocide that is occurring, we must consider: if literature is your corner, what will you do to rid it of these violences? 

Summer Farah, from the opening paragraphs of "Palestinian Poets on the Role of Literature in Fighting Genocide | Summer Farah, Samah Fadil, Priscilla Wathington, and Rasha Abdulhadi discuss countering Zionist propaganda and mobilizing art into action", published in Lit Hub, December 14, 2023. You can read the full discussion here

[swanasource]

“On this episode we have @samah_fadil , an Afro-Palestinian woman who joins us to talk about the genocide in her homeland, the erasure of Black Palestinians, imperialism, anti-blackness, links with BLM and more!”

Centering Afro-Palestinian Voices

[readingsquotes]

"

So, I want to ask: what is the role of poetry in genocide?

Samah Fadil: This question reminds me of the call to action Rasha Abdulhadi sent to me and urged other writers to use: “Whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now.” Poetry is sand that can be thrown on the gears of genocide, so I agree with Solmaz—the aesthetic pleasure comes second. But, one must remember that sand is made up of trillions of particles of eroding rock. Poetry is sand but sand is not only poetry… Poetry is a tool that can be wielded by anyone—for good or bad, status or self, self or salve. In my experience, I can’t say that my poetry has changed anyone but myself, but when I think of all of the poets that have inspired me to reach for my pen, and who continue to do so, I’d like to think that in some way, we are all continuously changing with each other’s words.

The answer above was written before the recent targeted assassination of beloved Gazan poet Dr. Refaat Alareer, and feels especially haunting now. I wish more people knew of him and his work before he was martyred. I wish people knew the poets who are still breathing as much as they knew the ones who are not. But to go back to the question, what is the role of poetry in genocide? After seeing the literal hundreds of people around the world who translated Refaat’s poem “If I must die”, it’s a reminder to me that in our hundreds, in our millions, we are all Palestinian. My last interaction with Refaat was him asking me to send him a clearer image of my poem “lucid”. I was so incredibly honored he asked. I did, and I hope he got to read my words. I hope he enjoyed them. He is someone who held poetry very, very dear to his heart and someone who taught its revolutionary potential to his students. My role as a poet is to honor that legacy.

[thenewgothictwice]

"Samah Serour Fadil is calling on you, dear reader, to join her in refusing and resisting the genocide of the Palestinian people, the Sudanese people, the Congolese people, the Sahrawi people, the people of Tigray, and all oppressed peoples all over the world. Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. We can refuse with every breath, with every action. Resist. Resist. Resist."

Her poem, "Then, a Palestinian Was Born."

"Cleansing souls to Rome’s twisted roads

Paved on stones thrown from Bethlehem

Death came from sin

And he was adorned

It was then that a Palestinian was born

Brown shaded and hairy

Prickly as the fruit

Planted at the root

I search for its name yet

Bloody pulp pursues

A memory I describe to try and remember

Instead, salted earth and fog rubble my brain

Unimaginable if I had grown on the tilth

Of the soil meant to toil the mulch

Of our germinating grains

Ground that begat us

Bespoke, then be gone with us

The mud asks where I am

With the patience of man

And the same sleight of hand, I remember

I remember ¬the Arabic word for patience is sabr

Sabr, the name of fruit I’d forgotten

Sabr I can no longer extend

Sabr grows where European trees wither

Sabr is every checkpoint from West Bank to Rafah

Sabr asks me where I’ve gone

I don’t know where to start

My parents played in its shadow

Holding hands with its stem

Withstanding Occupation out of scorn

In those moments, a Palestinian was born

When even our flag unbearable for Settlers to see

They denied us the pride of a culture’s dignity

When sabr left,

We planted watermelon seeds

Grew symbols and ate them piece by peace

A juicy flesh beneath thin layers of green

Digging out an escape

For those meant to be free

Our politics, a spoon carved out of stone

It is with a rock in hand that a Palestinian is born."

[fairuzfan]

Please consider spending time to learn more about Afro-Palestinian experiences and living under occupation while Black and Palestinian, along with Afro-Palestinian resistance efforts throughout the years. Here are some valuable articles and resources:

Articles:

In the heart of the Old City, generations of Afro-Palestinians persevere in the face of occupation by Mousa Qous

Putting the pieces together: Fragments of oral history in exile by Samah Fadil

‘Afro-Palestinians’ forge a unique identity in Israel by Isma'il Kushkush

The Africans of Jerusalem by Mousa Qous

The History Of Afro-Palestinians, Past And Present by Fayida Jailler

African-Palestinian community’s deep roots in liberation struggle by Electronic Intifada

Remembering Fatima Bernawi: Historic Palestinian fighter and liberated prisoner (1939-2022) on Samidoun

Fatima Barnawi, founder of Palestinian Women's Police and veteran prisoner, dies at 83 by Middle East Eye

On Fatima Bernawi, Women's Struggle, and Black-Palestinian Solidarity by Elom Tettey-Tamaklo

Afro Palestine: the African Diaspora in Palestine (not an article but a quick video summary of Afro-Palestinian history)

Note: highly recommend checking out Mousa Qous, the founder of the African Community Society, for his writings above all!

African Community Society of Jerusalem:

Their website— organization centered around the Afro-Palestinian community in Jerusalem.

General info about the group

ACS's instagram to learn more about Afro-Palestinian history.

Here is a write-up about the African Community Society, their impact within Palestinian society, and Afro-Palestinian history in Jerusalem specifically. Highly recommend taking the time to read this if you can.

Please take the time to watch this Documentary by Stephen Graham about former Israeli prisoner Ali Jiddah where he takes the viewer on a tour throughout Jerusalem and describes the unique struggles the Afro-Palestinian community face. He is quite a friendly guy and very funny:

[firstfullmoon]

“As a Palestinian in diaspora, nothing builds my connection to the land more than literature. It is not just the scenes detailed by our great poets that makes the ground feel realer under my feet, but the gravitational pull towards each other that gives me belief in that liberated homeland. [...] As Gaza’s poets are assassinated, as the libraries are destroyed, as Palestinians across historic Palestine (and all over the world) are arrested for dissent, as writers face censorship globally for speaking the truth of the genocide that is occurring, we must consider: if literature is your corner, what will you do to rid it of these violences?” — Summer Farah

[7amaspayrollmanager]

Through a kaleidoscope of family stories, writer Samah Fadil holds on to what it means to be Afro-Palestinian in diaspora

Some time in 1948

My teta Sakeena, the mother of my mother, got a tip that soldiers were going from town to town expelling people from their homes and shooting anyone who resisted. This was during the Nakba. 

My grandfather was away. Perhaps for work, perhaps at war – with oral histories there are always conflicting memories. The only story you get is the abridged version. If you’re lucky, someone might disclose another piece later on. 

Teta Sakeena had to hide my uncle’s pistol before the soldiers arrived. In a moment of desperation, she wrapped the gun in my mother’s cloth diaper. She held my infant mother close to her chest – a hug between her and the cold metal – as the soldiers raided the house. My family escaped, and that was the last time they saw their farm in Yafa.

Just a snippet but its not long and a good read

[edwordsmyth]

"It's only a matter of time before military forces in the US start to livestream you and your loved ones getting sniped from drones in the sky. Will you be shocked when the rest of the world either ignores you or blames you for it? Will you remember the Palestinians then?" -Samah Fadil

[translations2]

폐허, 레나 칼라프 투파하

Ruin

By Lena Khalaf Tuffaha

In Water & Salt (Red Hen Press)

If monuments

are all that survive us,

if Palmyra,

dead for centuries,

is all that stands for beauty,

if, blind

to the blackened skies

and the savagery of an unmaking

the eyes of a statue

call to us,

if the Aramaic of ruins

speaks to us

like no mother tongue

nor parched throats

of orphans have,

if a hunger stirs in each of us

for a temple

empty of worship,

if our pulse quickens

for the ghost of Zenobia’s gowns,

her diaphanous gaze,

while the living,

knee-deep into their deaths

in smoldering cities

in boats dissolving in the sea

in swollen bellies of refugee camps,

if all that breaks our hearts is

yesterday,

and the silent colonnade

anticipating

the dynamite,

if all we love

is a lost world

then let the dust swallow our names

let the maps

beneath our feet

burn.

If all we are is past,

who are these millions

now

gasping for air?

_

폐허

- 레나 칼라프 투파하

시집 <물과 소금>에서 발췌

고대 건축물만이

우리보다 오래 살 수 있다면,

팔미라*만이,

수세기의 죽음 속에

남아있는 유일한 아름다움이라면,

만약 어느 동상의 눈이

검게 뒤덮인 하늘과

어떤 파괴의 야만성에

눈이 멀어

우리를 부른다면,

만약 폐허 속 아람어가

그 어떤 고아들도

그들의 모어나

메마른 목구멍으로 낸 적 없는 소리로

우리에게 말을 건넨다면,

만약 우리 각자의 허기가 우리를

숭배가 사라진

신전으로 이끈다면,

만약 제노비아의 귀신의 가운을 보고

그녀의 투명한 시선에,

우리 맥박이 빨라진다면

산 자들은,

불타오르는 도시에서

바다 속에 녹아내리는 보트 위에서

난민촌의 부풀어오른 복부 속에서

죽음에 무릎이 잠기는데,

우리 마음을 무너뜨리는 것이 단지

어제라면,

그리고 다이너마이트를

기다리는

고요한 돌기둥 뿐이라면,

우리가 사랑하는 모든 것이

상실된 세계라면

먼지가 우리의 이름을

삼키게 하라

우리가 밟고 있는

지도가

불타게하라.

우리가 단지 과거로서 존재한다면

지금

거친 숨을 쉬는

수백만명의 사람들은 누구인가?

_

*팔미라: 시리아 중부의 고대도시

_

2024년 1월 1일까지, 알자지라 방송의 보도에 의하면 21,978명의 팔레스타인 사람들이 이스라엘 군에 의해 죽임을 당했다.

_

[houseofpurplestars]

Day 4 of communications blackout in Gaza. E-sims are urgent to keep people connected.

[plushhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

PRICE MATCH E-SIMS FOR P@L3STINIANS TO HAVE ACCESS TO INTERNET AND CONNECTIVITY ANYWHERE FROM $3-$35

[444names]

female arab forenames + english words borrowed from arabic

Aamina Aanda Abarah Abarda Abda Abiama Abiba Abilah Ablahra Adija Adijam Adilaira Adrasma Adya Adyascan Afarra Affeen Afida Afiqa Afridan Afriya Ahriah Aiba Aifatin Aiklaani Ailah Aiza Akam Akayya Akia Akira Akiyarah Alah Alalwaf Aled Aleil Aliayda Alifa Alil Alila Alimah Alimat Alimatin Aliyas Alma Ameemali Amidah Amila Amilah Amiram Anaida Arah Ardood Arizi Asha Ashirana Asihanya Asmilah Ayarifa Aynawa Ayzah Azarda Azebet Azeya Azizizza Azmath Azmira Azzarda Babarah Banida Bardool Bariah Barimara Bariyam Baseen Basira Batima Baylaaf Bayna Bibahra Blaikhah Blalili Bleila Buthaki Buthiya Caled Candaida Canindy Chad Chadiva Charahan Chen Cohakira Coheck Cottona Cottoon Dafsa Daila Dala Dalida Dhah Diha Diva Domah Doos Dufia Dufiya Dufizzak Duhada Erbila Erema Ereshada Faafat Faaimah Faan Faana Fadil Faina Faisma Fara Farama Fard Faria Farra Fatel Fath Fathifar Fathsafa Fatinna Fatuna Fayba Fayda Fayya Fiam Fida Finabah Fisada Fiyazen Fukhan Fukhsam Gebah Gebeh Gebra Gera Ghah Gira Guitaria Haba Hadika Hadila Hadilah Hadjah Hady Hadyahra Haffeen Hafrah Hahruzi Hahsa Haima Haira Haiza Hajam Hakilah Hakira Hakra Halaifat Halia Haliha Halya Hamah Hanah Hanidah Hari Haride Harra Hasine Hask Haza Heya Hibeema Hura Huro Husaba Husra Iess Ililah Imah Isir Jamira Jarda Jaysuna Jayya Jenabida Jenana Jenna Jida Jujumni Jumal Kalina Kalwah Kamira Kardoma Khab Khabatun Khad Khadila Khalinah Khar Kharia Khshen Khsira Lagda Laima Leinda Leshabi Leylah Lifay Lima Linah Liyya Loell Luba Lubibet Lujoosos Mahafiqa Mahah Mahla Mahra Mahrusa Malah Malihaz Malilah Mara Marah Marde Maridah Marikari Marra Matel Mathiyah Matima Mayna Moos Mounina Mufisaw Muna Mundah Mundu’a Mundya Muniya Nableh Nadan Nady Naibia Naina Naisah Nama Nana Nandya Naniya Nanyask Nimah Nisra Niya Niyya Nohol Nour Nuhasmee Numnida Nuriya Nuro Nusni Omar Orajideh Orbee Qubra Rahiba Rajam Raki Reena Remi Ress Restima Riamong Rikam Riyamina Rubna Ruzi Sabatifa Sabda Sabibah Sabilah Sada Sadah Sadija Sadil Sadima Sadir Sadram Safatifa Safaya Safida Safiyah Saibah Saifa Saimas Sair Saira Sairah Saizada Saleena Salgebah Salia Salifal Salila Saliya Sama Samah Samimara Samina Samindah Samine Samna Sanahrup Sang Sange Sanir Sanira Saniya Santara Sarda Sari Sarima Sawsah Seebet Sema Semida Shadira Shah Shakir Shal Shala Shaliah Shalmala Shamin Shamira Shamon Shanda Shanhara Shar Sharwah Shebah Shibida Shida Shikila Shir Shirukha Shiya Shrup Shur Shura Shurizak Shuro Sima Simar Sina Sira Siya Sodayzah Sorah Sososo Suba Subila Subra Suhadiha Suhah Suham Suhar Suhard Sula Sulleah Suma Sumalifa Summara Suna Suniya Syrubna Syrukala Syruz Taana Tabi Talikar Talina Taline Tama Tamira Tara Tarda Tarwa Ulaybah Uleah Ultaa Umasmin Wafaifa Walileen Waline Wida Widah Wisafsa Wisdomah Yaha Yaharama Yahir Yusa Zadila Zadiram Zadiva Zady Zahla Zakira Zakra Zakrah Zayya Zebeenna Zebeh Zebrana Zeikama Zeil Zeinajla Zeli Zell Zelmahma Zennajwa Zera Zerbeena Zeyahma Zeyla Zubia Zuhar Zuka Zukhada Zukhalwa Zuleylah Zull

[swanasource]

NEW EPISODE OUT NOW: "Genocide in Palestine: The War on Misinformation" ft Samah 🍉 🍉 🍉

[readingsquotes]

"So, I want to ask: what is the role of poetry in genocide?

Samah Fadil: This question reminds me of the call to action Rasha Abdulhadi sent to me and urged other writers to use: “Whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now.” Poetry is sand that can be thrown on the gears of genocide, so I agree with Solmaz—the aesthetic pleasure comes second. But, one must remember that sand is made up of trillions of particles of eroding rock. Poetry is sand but sand is not only poetry… Poetry is a tool that can be wielded by anyone—for good or bad, status or self, self or salve. In my experience, I can’t say that my poetry has changed anyone but myself, but when I think of all of the poets that have inspired me to reach for my pen, and who continue to do so, I’d like to think that in some way, we are all continuously changing with each other’s words.

The answer above was written before the recent targeted assassination of beloved Gazan poet Dr. Refaat Alareer, and feels especially haunting now. I wish more people knew of him and his work before he was martyred. I wish people knew the poets who are still breathing as much as they knew the ones who are not. But to go back to the question, what is the role of poetry in genocide? After seeing the literal hundreds of people around the world who translated Refaat’s poem “If I must die”, it’s a reminder to me that in our hundreds, in our millions, we are all Palestinian. My last interaction with Refaat was him asking me to send him a clearer image of my poem “lucid”. I was so incredibly honored he asked. I did, and I hope he got to read my words. I hope he enjoyed them. He is someone who held poetry very, very dear to his heart and someone who taught its revolutionary potential to his students. My role as a poet is to honor that legacy."