You are “the survivor.” The one who did not choose survival but thrust yourself into it unexpectedly like a fragile leaf caught in an endless storm.
How did you survive? How did you make it through all those wars? No one knows. No one truly understands how heavy it is to bear the title of “the survivor”, knowing it was never your choice but merely a blind coincidence; a roll of the dice that struck others and, for now, spared you.
You search for a sense of belonging, for a homeland without closed walls; for a sanctuary you can call home. Yet, every path you take leads to new labyrinths. You run among beasts in broad daylight and dive into the depths of your darkness every evening. You try to convince yourself, even for a moment, that you are safe, however the truth always whispers in your ear: Survival is nothing more than a temporary station. It is just that your turn hasn’t come yet.
In your small tent, that does not protect you neither from the wind nor from your memories, you sit alone with your pain and burdens. You look around and realize that this so-called “progress” you’ve made was nothing but a series of fractures. Every step wasn’t a step forward but a push from the raging wind. Every raid scattered you further and deepened your wound.
You are exhausted from wandering between homelands you don’t belong to and cities that do not recognize you. You are weary of searching for a single inch of land you can call “home”. You feel as though the city’s edges are drawing closer to their end. Yet, you continue to drift aimlessly. Nothing gives you the certainty that, at last, you have arrived.
In that solitude, when the night comes and you are surrounded by silence, you face the truth you have been trying to escape from: You are not a survivor. You are terrified and broken. Your soul is full of rage. A revolution has eroded throughout the past days. A collapse is patiently awaiting the right moment to unfold.
Now, you are here but truly, you are not present. Your body has survived, but your soul remains a prisoner of a war.
It is a battle that has never acknowledged its end.
Najia Mahmoud
December 30, 2024
