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I allowed myself to forget about Palestine: graduation, marriage, honeymoon and new beginnings against the backdrop of silence.
As life caught up with me, I stepped away. I logged out of the massacre and decided to live in luxurious freedom from tragedy.
GRADUATION
I graduate, wearing a symbol of resistance as I walk to collect my diploma. The keffiyeh causes me to sweat as I wear it under my precisely arranged robes. The robes symbolise the tradition of my university, 432 years old. Everything is black and white. I could be denied my diploma. I could be told that my keffiyeh is a political statement, disallowed at the ceremony. My university wants to ‘remain neutral’ on the matter of Gaza. Israel means a lot to its pocket.
In my university, I studied Law, seeking justice. The climax of my studies was International Human Rights Law. I wrote a long thesis on freedom from the oppression that continues to hold the Global South in chains, and the systems that fail to hold oppressors to account. I was marked well for my manifesto, and my good grades carried me to graduation, where I would panic over wearing my keffiyeh.
I dedicated my degree to those who could never graduate.
I watch a young girl with beautiful brown skin speaking before a camera. At a young age, she believes that if enough people speak, the plight of her people may reach the world. And if only the world could hear, they would definitely care. So there is no doubt in…
