Souvenir by Warsan Shire

Reading this poem made me angry, uncomfortable and ready to tell you how I feel:

A souvenir one would think is a procession of great and symbolic remembrance. A material object that represents a certain time period or certain place once travelled to. However, for Warsan Shire a souvenir represents something that could potentially carry memories, not just good, but bad as well.

Shire speaks openly about the case of  war. The war that spills blood over the innocent and traps the young and brave in a place of darkness for years thereafter. The war is something that is carried and remembered all life long. Something as tragic with lose and bloodshed could never just be forgotten, no matter how hard one tries. It stains the clothes that you wear, the relationships you build and the dreams that become nightmares, over and over again.

The war is something that many immigrants carry with them, it is something that sticks with them throughout their lives and it is something that no amount of humanitarian aid could ever fix, because at the end of the day, when all of the aided tents, temporary bandages and small change that large economically leading countries give is done, the lost, broken and innocent are still left with the looping memory of loud explosions and stunt grenades, cries for help and images of child being buried, over and over again.

Not amount of humanitarian aid will take that away from them.

Thus, how can people still call refugees burdens, how could people turn there backs to the broken. Just because something is broken does not mean you don't try to fix it. It is the souvenir of war that the innocent victims of each of those war time countries carry, they are not the souvenir that is being given to you, but rather the memory of the war and the looping nightmares and cries are the souvenir for THEM.

One needs to stand back and realize that just because someone comes from a country of war, does not mean that war will now inflict itself on you. It does not give people the right to step away and refuse responsibility to help.

The war as already proven to repeatedly break the hands and dreams of innocent people, making accusations about who they are as people or how they should act or what they bring with them is kicking the sole that is trying to get up and move once again.

Please relieve your hands from reaching for petty coins in your pockets, and open your hands, hold another hand, embrace war time strength and war time victims, encourage and support their drive to pursue a better life. Do not take away their shadow or erase them simply because they carry a guilt you feel your freedom has labelled on you.