Protest All You Can -- O'Aisha.

Today, Friday, some courageous, brave Iraqis are venturing out again, to protest...

I don't want to be like the dampening waters from a dam that has overflowed...but...

Protest all you can... all you want...but know, you are late...it's called Late. Do we need to have the same discussion over and over again ?

Where were you, when B52's fucked our souls? Where were you when we packed in haste, hiding our names, tattooed on our legs, our hips, our bellies ?

Did you run after the Omar's, after the Othman's, the Bakr's, the Aisha's ?

I am Omar, I am Aisha, I am....

I am here...watching you...I have one Omar missing... the missing Omar...his name was Omar...Omar, Omar, Omar...

I was told Omar's death is a public holiday in Iran...they gave me the date, it did not coincide with my Omar's.


I am Aisha, that is my real name...I was the youngest...Aisha...in Arabic, it means the "One who lives"... I live and my name is Aisha...I love my name...I totally love my name...

Even though a few weeks ago, I went to a government public hospital...I was feeling unwell...the doctor asked me --- sweet girl, what is your name ? I said Aisha - the one who lives.

He closed my file. I still see the pages being smashed one against another, crashing one on top of another, like waves, hitting a shore, with nowhere to go...

He said : Aisha, your name is Aisha ?! I nodded my head...he became a God...the God of my neighborhood, all dressed in black...with a turban around his head. I felt God must hate me for my name...I was ordered out of the hospital... My name is Aisha - the one who lives, again and again...

I was chosen by Allah, to be the last wife, the last witness, the last one...I am Aisha - the one who lives again and again...

Protest all you can. Hold my name - Aisha.

Hold Omar, Hold Bakr, Hold Othman, Hold Ali --- hold them by their robes...and don't let go. They are all behind me - Aisha - the one who lives, again and again.

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