I have found this reading too emotional and expressive. It reflects a reality for some people who already live in these tragic conditions. I would like to reflect on some points that caught my attention.

1.“In the last few months, I have watched my city, Maarrat al-Numan, burn, I have watched my city, Raqqa, burn, I have fled Aleppo from the increased fanaticism

of the rebels, I have fled Aleppo from the chokehold of the regime, I have fled Aleppo to Turkey, I have fled Aleppo to Lebanon, I have fled Aleppo not

knowing if I will ever return, or what I might find if I do.”

This statement is deeply painful. I want to reflect on the Palestinians whose lands have been destroyed since the beginning of the tragedy on October 7. Will they ever return to find their homes and lives as they once were? Can all the empty slogans of peace treaties restore their lost families, memories, and homes?

How did they transform from rightful landowners into refugees, while the Zionist occupiers became the landowners through acts of genocide? This injustice touches me profoundly, as I find myself questioning not only the physical colonization of Palestine or any other Arab country but also the political, economic, and cultural colonization that continues to oppress so many nations around the world. Are we satisfied to remain colonized, not only in our lands but also in our culture and identity?

2. “Istishhad: to be martyred; to die for a cause.

It is an especially difficult word to translate, because it has been so marred by blood and violence, so disfigured by zealotry and malice. It is a word

that has been ripped from its roots, those that connect it to something so emblematic of what it means to be human, to be driven always by the twin desires

of wishing to know and wishing to be known.

Its root: sh-h-d, witness. In its most literal form, istishhad in fact means: to have been witnessed. Witnessed by God, who is nothing, symbolically, if

not the omniscient reader—and writer—of the human condition. To be witnessed is what gives one’s life meaning; that is what gives death its cause.”

This passage is profoundly impactful and deeply meaningful for humanity. Those we perceive as victims of war or colonization are, in fact, people who have been granted the greatest reward a human being can attain. To those who lack a true understanding of life’s purpose, such events may appear as acts of violence or malice; however, we know that this is not the end—it is a new beginning, where every rightful soul will reclaim their due, and every oppressor will face justice.

Istishhad (martyrdom) is not a defeat but a source of pride. It is the ultimate victory, for the Shaheed (martyr) fights for truth and justice—whether through worldly triumph or through the eternal honor of sacrifice. The essence of Istishhad cannot be fully captured by words alone; it is understood through meaning and faith.

We shall continue to struggle until we achieve either victory in this life or eternal victory in the hereafter. To live with dignity or to die with dignity—both are forms of triumph.

3. The only way to make borders meaningless is to keep insisting on crossing them: like a

refugee, without papers, without waiting to be given permission, without regard for what might be waiting on the other side. For when you cross a border, you are not only affirming its permeability, but also changing the landscape on both sides. You cross carrying what you can carry, you cross bearing your

witness, you cross knowing that you are damageable, that you are mortal and finite, but that language is memory, and memory lives on.

Were borders ever truly meaningful in their essence? Are they not, in fact, instruments created to divide humanity into nations—weakening our unity and making us easier to control and colonize?

I have used the AI in polishing my writing.

https://chatgpt.com/share/68fec27b-61e4-8007-b0e3-e190eb7601d0