This year, we honour the story by refusing its misuse.
By listening. Showing up. Rooting our rituals in solidarity, not supremacy.
Placing our stories alongside, not above.
From the narrow place, we don't move toward conquest, but toward collective freedom.
This year, we honour the story by refusing its misuse.
By listening. Showing up. Rooting our rituals in solidarity, not supremacy.
Placing our stories alongside, not above.
From the narrow place, we don't move toward conquest, but toward collective freedom.
We are taught to mourn even our oppressors.
But today we’re told to stay silent as others are bombed, displaced, starved.
We’re told to call it defence. We’re told to look away.
We refuse.
Liberation built on domination is not liberation.
It’s apartheid. It cannot be done in our name.
We are taught to mourn even our oppressors.
But today we’re told to stay silent as others are bombed, displaced, starved.
We’re told to call it defence. We’re told to look away.
We refuse.
Liberation built on domination is not liberation.
It’s apartheid. It cannot be done in our name.
This isn’t about making our past sacred. It’s about refusing to ignore the present.
Because oppression today doesn’t live in metaphor.
It lives in Gaza, under siege. In the West Bank, under occupation. In refugee camps, in exile, in rubble.
This isn’t about making our past sacred. It’s about refusing to ignore the present.
Because oppression today doesn’t live in metaphor.
It lives in Gaza, under siege. In the West Bank, under occupation. In refugee camps, in exile, in rubble.