Gaza ... fasting
The second Ramadan, a round up
Last year, as the Muslim month of fasting began, the war on Gaza was entering its 6th month. I found myself constantly thinking about the life of believers fasting through a man-made famine, about the experience of praying among rubble, about the intensity of dua1 in the face of so much loss.
I found myself thinking about what it means to be a Gazan during Ramadan. The poem I wrote at that time is shared below, with a link to the original post:
To Be a Gazan during Ramadan
What does it mean to be a Gazan
during Ramadan
What does it mean to fast
when you have not eaten in days
when the bread you can get is made from ground animal feed
and fistfuls of grass
What does it mean to search for a place
to pray in solitude
when every wall has been reduced
to rubble
to search for a place quiet enough to hear your voice
as you plead to God
over the din of the army drones
and Apache helicopters
What does it mean to stand in the ruins
of a bombed out mosque
to straighten your lines
to stand shoulder to shoulder
and foot to foot
on a salvaged mat or blanket
next to your brothers
or sisters
and raise your voice
that resonant amen
God tells us the prayers of the oppressed
go straight to heaven
God tells us the prayers of the oppressed
reach Him in the sky
faster than the bombs
reach the hospitals
the schools
the churches
the refugee camps
the apartment blocks
the tents
the destroyed water wells
the bombed out sewage systems
the university halls and concert halls
the roads and fields and hotels and factories and heritage sites and malls and homes and
babies
and children
and women
and men
I am ashamed of my plush blankets
my soft bed
my full belly
ashamed of the 3 course iftars I will eat
when the sun sets
and the plates of shakshuka and ful
with coffee and jam
I will down without thought
in a hurry before dawn
What does it mean to be a Gazan
during Ramadan
to be a Canadian
during Ramadan
to know that my worldly fortune
is dumb luck
not of my doing
to know I could be you
and you could be me.
Twelve months later, we are observing Ramadan again. A fragile ceasefire has stalled and threatens to collapse at any moment. In spite of the brief pause in bombing, life in Gaza remains near impossible.
