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Skuzapo: The untold story

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Andrew Balaam

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“Ми самі створюємо своє майбутнє. Двадцять чотири години на добу, сім днів на тиждень. Авторство належить кожному - і ніхто не зможе оголосити себе непричетним. Долі так схотілося, щоб я був старший за свою країну. Та я зроблю все, щоб мої онуки були молодші за неї.”

Warукраїнамайбутнє
Author:Павло Казарін
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“به تماشای بچه ها مشغول شد. آنها با بی حالی روی جمن به دنبال هم مبدوبدند، از تکه چوبی به عنوان تفنگ استفاده میکردند و با دهانشان صدای گلوله در می آوردند و با دویدنشان توده ای از خاک به هوا میفرستادند. مشغول جنگ بازی بودند. چهار پسر. دیروز پنج نفر بودند.”

WarKidsNigeria
Book:Half of a Yellow Sun
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“I stood there, the distant noise of war coming to an end. Blood and bone scarring the earth. The dead bodies of innocent people forced into this all because of ego. What was that saying? When the rich went to war, it was the poor who died. Fuck that. We had enough. Though we might have won, it didn't feel like a victory. We lost too many. "Kovacs," Warwick spoke out loud, our link burned up for now. He took my hand, pulling me away from Markos. We started to walk away, exactly like my vision, dead bodies lying all around us, fire burning, our boots soaked with blood. Hand in hand through the valley of death. The Grey and The Wolf.”

War
Book:Shadow Lands
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“for Falasteen the boy i adored at sixteen gifted me his keffiyeh feeling guilty for living when others were killed simply for existing i haven’t seen him in sixteen years but think of him often these days his grandmother’s purse still carrying keys to their home believing they’d return in weeks can it even be called a key if what it unlocked is no longer there? we’d sneak onto mall rooftops & pretend shooting only happened with stars! 'we have a duty of memory,' he said, 'so they’ll kill us all until only the soil is witness' how could i reply? i sat in my liquid silence today there are nurseries of martyrs they bomb babies for they fear enemies hiding between pacifiers & tiny wrists bomb hospitals because enemies hide in ICU bedpans bomb schools because enemies hide in children’s bags bomb the oldest mosques & churches because enemies hide in rosary beads & votive candles they bomb journalists because enemies are hiding under their PRESS vests & helmets bomb poets because enemies hide in pages of peace poems the elderly are bombed because enemies hide under their canes the disabled are bombed because they harbour enemies in their artificial limbs they raze & burn all the ancient trees because enemies make bombs from olives they bomb water treatment plants because enemies are now water & so it goes: justification provided exoneration granted business as usual & the boy I adored has green-grey eyes the colour of fig leaves we don’t speak but i wish to tell him 'i’m sorry the world is a blade i’m sorry home is blood & bones i’m sorry music is sirens & wails i’m sorry night is infinite' but the boy I adored has grey-green eyes the colour of forgotten ash”

WarOppressionWitnessGenocidePalestineApartheidGazaDisplacementCeasefireKeffiyeh
Author:Kamand Kojouri
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