Habiba Elbassiouny’s voice rang clear and true across Fargo(N.D.)-Moorhead(Minn.) over the past several weeks. Bibo, as she’s also known, recited her poems to initiate several peaceful protests of the ongoing slaughter of innocent Palestinians in The Gaza Strip and The West Bank. IV Words is honored to share three of them here.
“Writing has always been my outlet, so it was to no one’s surprise that the events following October 7th triggered my creative outburst," said Habiba, who was born in Egypt, grew up in Saudi Arabia and is currently studying architecture at a Fargo university. "Witnessing this genocide has been an eye-opening experience. It’s shown me the true power words and art hold in our society, especially with this generation. I will forever be grateful for the gift that allowed me to use my voice to help call for action amid such a dire time.”
Dear Palestine
Forgive me
If my voice was not loud enough
When I called for your freedom
When I demanded justice
Forgive me
If I at all failed
To explain to the world
That this is not a war
This is genocide trapped in a box
With bold red letters
“We are only fighting back” written across
Forgive me
If I did not show them enough proof
Of your loved ones lost under a pile of bricks
Of your hospitals burned to a crisp
Of the ruins you once called a home
Forgive me
For every bite I take of the food you need
For the roof I have in a shelter you seek
For every sip of water
Feeding my thirst instead of your own
Forgive me
If my voice was not loud enough
For I am only one
In a silent many
© Habiba Elbassiouny
Mourn Me
You speak of the dead
As though they suffer still
But they have woken
Finally from the nightmare I live
It is I
Who bleeds in my sleep
Do not mourn the dead
Mourn the living
For my day
Starts with a missile
You speak of the dead
As though they suffer still
But they have woken
Finally from the nightmare I live
It is I
Who bleeds in my sleep
Do not mourn the dead
Mourn the living
For my day
Starts with a missile
At the crack of dawn
I brush my teeth with grains of sand
And roam the streets of my stolen land
This was where I made my first friend
This was where I went to school
This was where I fell in love
But now
This is where I lost my friend
And school
And love
This is where I search for faces
And arms
And legs
Between the masses of bodies
Beneath the masses of bricks
I eat for breakfast
And lunch
And dinner
This is where I lay at night
Under a blanket of dust
On a concrete bed
Watching the stars drown in lethal gasses
Listening to a lullaby of scorching screams and dying dreams
They say scars tell stories
And I
Am an open-book
Covered in horror stories
Tear stained pages
Letters carved in blood
Do not mourn the dead
Mourn me
© Habiba Elbassiouny
Open Wound
They say two-state solution
But All I hear is
Hand over what's left of you
To the thieves who robbed you
Let go of salvation
Forgive 75 years of occupation
But even if I forgive
How can I ever forget
That when you
Escaped your land and came to mine
I waved a welcome sign
I turned around
To show you my home
Then I felt it in my back
The pain of betrayal
Your blade twisting in my spine
And now you extend your arm in peace
But your palm is full of spikes
Your gun waiting
For the moment I settle in your trap
Seems you forgot
That once upon a time
You took my olive
And offered a branch
And now I reap the thorns
Do not speak to me of peace
As my children lay in pieces
Do not call me a terrorist
When you define terror
Do not ask me to turn my back again
So you can dig your blade deeper
Do not blame me for October 7th
Because I will blame you
For every day since and every day before
I will scream and chant and roar my throat raw
Because it's free Palestine
Until Palestine is free
© Habiba Elbassiouny
These poems have touched me to the core. Her poignant words bring tears to my eyes.