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Home
How many of us have homes we’ve never seen, but feel deeply connected to? When the home is under rubble, under fire, under constant reign of terror you too feel it When 165 unidentified bodies are 165 of your brothers and sisters Somalia, I’m with you. I will mourn 165 times and for every
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Goodbyes
October 5, 2014 at 2:21 pm, my father died. The first death of someone dear to me. I cried rivers and was scolded by distant relatives. “Dear Samira, to cry is to ensure suffering for your father during his trials in the grave.” “Stop Samira, have you no shame.” “Samira, death is promised to us
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Muni's Musings 