Revolution by Fatma AlSumaiti

This is a revolution against the social system.

I am a girl. I am 23. I am a 23 year old girl, and I am a revolution.

This is a revolution against my society.

I don’t want to get married because I have to. 

I don’t want to not smoke because a girl just shouldn’t.

I don’t want to cover my hair because good girls go to heaven.

I don’t want to regret feeling intimacy because I’ll go to hell if I did it out of wedlock.

This is a revolution against everything I know.

                                                                                                        Against everything I was.

I don’t want to care about what your looks mean. What your words mask.

I don’t want to act a certain way because it would please you.

Before Islam, they buried girls with dirt. Now, they let traditions do the burying.

Your traditions are a weak excuse for religion.

I am breaking out.

These chains you see on the floor are the strings I cut last November.

I cut those strings and I walked out the front door.

You call it rebellion. I call it freedom.

This is a revolution.

I don’t care who your ancestors are and when they came to this country.

I don’t care about how your family name paints a certain picture of who you are.

You drive a fancy car? Who paid for it?

Your daddy is rich and your mama good looking.

Who are you, though?

This is a revolution against everything you know.

                                                                                                                   Against everything you are.


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