Help me understand because I don't understand, it's got me questioning' like, "Why?

Just tell me why, tell me am I really different to you or are you the difference that keeps this void between us.

Are we not derived from the same beginning? Are we not derived to the same ending?

Did our ethnicities come with a guide book where complicated combinations are simply too exotic to comprehend?

I stand on a land where all these cultures and religions clash and meet daily and now do you still want to tell me that I’m really different to you.

I’m here in front of you all articulating through the silence. Where’s your devotion? Where’s your devotion, to fracture this never-ending chain of unfair equality?

As Martin Luther King once mentioned, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.”

Well, I have a dream, a dream where this plague will soon have a cure for the state of being equal, in status rights and opportunities.

Before I rage and rant out of passion and before I lay down the historical traumatic facts don’t act like listening is a crime don’t be so blind, don’t be so blind to what tears up our social lives.

So, let me say sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry for the fact that our history is built on mass genocide against our native indigenous people I’m sorry we’ve alienated you stripped your form your rights and treated you differently due to the colour of your skin.

I’m sorry I’m only beginning with general history. Look I know I’m not much of a historian, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the fact that we were built based upon unfair equality

My mother always told me to give back to my community, but how am I meant to give back to a community which is so divided? I don't understand, it's got me questioning' like, "Why? Just tell me why"

I wrote this as I’m trying to pull my head through in hopes that you understand I’m no different to you …

✊🏻WE✊🏼ARE✊🏽ALL✊🏾EQUAL✊🏿

My name is intangible, its recited or sung, a verse from old folk poetry or the beautiful Quran. I’m remembered when a Zajjalin sings, words of poetry, rhythms and feelings. I'm the makeup of things whether suppressive or freeing and the concrete emotions that a poet leaves ringing.

My name is the voices of change in Lebanon’s civil war. A wounded country where the people is its soul. I was the hope and granddaughter my grandfather wished to call. I carry the name proudly waiting for Lebanon’s sun to return home.