Against the Loveless World

by Susan Abulhawa

“Here you were: to be loved. To be loved, baby, hard, at once, and forever, to strengthen you against the loveless world.”

To survive by loving each other means to love our ancestors too. To know their pain, struggles, and joys. It means to love our collective memory, who we are, where we come from,”

“There is no reason for you to try to become like white people and there is no basis whatever for their impertinent assumption that they must accept you. The really terrible thing, old buddy, is that you must accept them. And I mean that very seriously. You must accept them and accept them with love. For these innocent people have no other hope. They are, in effect, still trapped in a history which they do not understand; and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it. They have had to believe for many years, and for innumerable reasons, that black men are inferior to white men. Many of them, indeed, know better, but, as you will discover, people find it very difficult to act on what they know. To act is to be committed, and to be committed is to be in danger.”

It’s more about our own state of grace, of protecting our spirits from their denigration of us; about knowing that our struggle is rooted in morality, and that the struggle itself is not against them as a people, but against what infects them—the idea that they are a better form of human, that God prefers them, that they are inherently a superior race, and we are disposable.”

questioning how it is that death can be life’s only assurance and yet also its greatest, most devastating surprise.

That was the last time I ever saw Bilal. I love you, Nahr. You’ve given me the best days of my life. Those words bounce around in my head now; their letters fall apart and float in my eyes, behind my face, in my throat, and I scramble to reassemble it all, afraid I have forgotten the sound of Bilal’s voice or the thuds of his heart in my ear against his chest. I lie on my bed in the Cube, concentrating to put it all together to replay: I love you, Nahr. You’ve given me the best days of my life. Sometimes I can’t and am seized by panic. I’m terrified of forgetting.

I colonized the colonizer’s space of authority. I made myself free in chains and held that courtroom captive to my freedom. I

I don’t know what compelled me to write it all. To set the record straight? To lay bare with love what others find offensive? To pass the time? To mark my place in the world? To inject life into this lifeless box? To declare simply that I survived? To keep Bilal near me?

“Or maybe it just proves the state will always find a way to imprison those who are truly free, who do not accept social, economic, or political chains.”

my … darling … wife … I … have … spent … these … years … trying … to … make … my … way … back … to … you … if … you … will … have … me … I … will … come … to … you … there … is … a … tree … in … the … valley … where … you … go … and … sit … tomorrow … I … will … leave … a … letter … under … a … rock … there … enshallah … we … will … meet … again … my … love.

I may never find a place in this world, but for now, in this moment, I feel the purest, most perfect joy.