His face softens and I see even more of Ghalia. It calms me. I want to listen. He carries on speaking, but quiet now. I hear anger anymore. Just sadness. it’s can’t not easy for stuck. so much pressure from all fucking ‘It’s us. We’re There’s sides.’ He stops twitching and his arms drop to his sides. these bloody fights outside our home help ‘And don’t anything.’ His eyes are bloodshot. As he speaks his hands start karate chopping the air. His voice rises up and down like the beeping machine next to a dying man. It makes me go cold and shivery. so simple for them. The NDL. The PAF. all just about race and ‘It’s It’s nothing else. But how does that help? So what if the PAF support Muslim rights? How does that protect other, different Muslims like me? Or Ghalia?’ He says her name quietly. He pauses. I think finished, but his lips purse and he he’s swallows. all doing the same, judging people on how they look, or what group ‘They’re they think they belong to, or what culture they come from. Like that it’s simple. Those extremes help anybody. never about what we feel don’t It’s inside.’ He bangs his chest with his fist. hard. It must really hurt. I feel it. My ribs ache. It’s My whole body aches with him. I understand. just like with Ghalia. Like It’s I’m connected and my own brother. I want him to be. I want to hug him, like he’s we’re family. I move. He move. I see her face. don’t doesn’t ‘How’s Ghalia?’
His face softens and I see even more of Ghalia. It calms me. I want to listen. He carries on speaking, but it’s quiet now. I can’t hear anger anymore. Just sadness. ‘It’s not easy for us. We’re stuck. There’s so much pressure from all fucking sides.’ He stops twitching and his arms drop to his sides. ‘And these bloody fights outside our home don’t help anything.’ His eyes are bloodshot. As he speaks his hands start karate chopping the air. His voice rises up and down like the beeping machine next to a dying man. It makes me go cold and shivery. ‘It’s so simple for them. The NDL. The PAF. It’s all just about race and nothing else. But how does that help? So what if the PAF support Muslim rights? How does that protect other, different Muslims like me? Or Ghalia?’ He says her name quietly. He pauses. I think he’s finished, but his lips purse and he swallows. ‘They’re all doing the same, judging people on how they look, or what group they think they belong to, or what culture they come from. Like it’s that simple. Those extremes don’t help anybody. It’s never about what we feel inside.’ He bangs his chest with his fist. It’s hard. It must really hurt. I feel it. My ribs ache. My whole body aches with him. I understand. It’s just like with Ghalia. Like I’m connected and he’s my own brother. I want him to be. I want to hug him, like we’re family. I don’t move. He doesn’t move. I see her face. ‘How’s Ghalia?’