Fatihah Quadri
When a country hates another country, the
children suffer everyday from the sun. A house
falls and the dream shatters to the ground.
The first thing my mother taught me about
genocide is running. The second is “stop thinking
about your burning school because books can’t
stop a bullet from knowing a child.”
I have learnt too many languages to survive in my
country but the only language the gun understands
is death.
No one buys flowers during genocide,
because everything has the tendency to know ash.
A girl from Gaza sleeps alone in the desert,
when she wakes, her body starts to scream—God is in
the blood of this soil, even if you kill all the plants, you
can’t steal a land from God.
Born on a Friday in December, Fatihah Quadri Eniola is a Nigerian poet whose work has been featured in Torch Literary Arts, Blue Marble Review, Agbowo, The West Trade Review, The Shore Poetry, and elsewhere. She gathers experience in Law in the University of Ibadan.
Artwork: “Welcome All Exiles” by Samar Hussaini
Acrylic, ink, graphite and thread on canvas