The following poem includes a graphic description of injury to a child.
Fatiha will be seven years
two months and six days old
and have a fierce
sense of humour
She'll have to in this place.
She'll shelter in her room.
Use chalk she manages to find
to sketch silly cartoons
and will try to be a kid.
The bomb will blow apart her face
And the people who drop
and fund and build the warhead
Who justify and politicise
and eulogise will have zero regrets
"We're just killing extremists"
They'll say she deserves
to end up in a graveyard
To them, there is nothing scarier
than someone, somewhere doing art.
"They are the real terrorists."
Bombs funded by nations in the global north are being dropped on a civilian population and helping to continue a genocide. The same nations are attempting to ban artists who speak out against their actions.
Fatiha is currently three years, four months and twenty three days old and lives (and will die) in Hackney.
