Muslim in 2020

Afghan Voices
2 min readJul 2, 2020

A poem by Zahra Wakilzada

Let China break my bones
And India burn me to ashes.
Let Germany kick me out of my home
And America ban my peace.

Let the powerful sleep peacefully in their beds
Not acknowledging the violence
Let the advocates pick and choose
And the politicians stay silent.

Let Facebook filter #justiceformuslims
And the young share my blood in their story.
Let yourself swipe away
And go home to your loved ones.

I am all alone
No loved ones,
No birthplace,
And no home
Left to welcome me.

I am all alone
There is no one to heal my wounds.
There is no one to help me flee.
There is no one to save me.

Let the world beat me, shoot me, and kill me.
You can continue worrying about your summer vacation.
Let your vote choose a candidate thirsty for blood
And you can still worry about the number of likes for #voted!

I am like a lost soldier
Searching for the home
That was bombarded decades ago.

I am like a mother
Praying for the world
And begging for peace.

My hands are tied
And I have difficulty breathing.
There is no tomorrow for me, for my 2-month-old
or my 75-year-old grandma.
They have sworn to get rid of us all.

You will not remember us 40 years from now
Because Muslims are worthless to you
Because we were never defined as humans in your dictionary.

No one will ever understand our pain
And no one will be questioned about our deaths.
No museum will be dedicated to us
And no graveyard will be marked with our names.

About the Author: Zahra Wakilzada is a human rights activist and a public speaker. She is a rising sophomore at Georgetown University planning to major in Government and an aspiring writer and poet who first began to publish her work at the age of 14. Zahra strongly believes that writing is resistance and can bring change.



Afghan Voices

Writing by Afghan writers. Editor/Publisher: Nancy Antle; Editor: Pamela Hart