The Bruising of Qilwa

by Naseem Jamnia

Shame flooded Firuz whenever they thought of the nearby Underdock, of the other family in their old living situation. How could Firuz take care of their own and ignore the suffering they’d left behind, the suffering they condoned every time they chose their family over others? The clinic—they could do more good there than sharing what few resources they had. They had to justify it to themself this way or risk the guilt consuming them, a disease of its own.

“You are a good sibling, no matter what he thinks.” Kofi’s gentleness was almost more painful than a punch to the gut. “You do good for your communities. You are invaluable here. And you do what you can for everyone in your life. Do not despair that you cannot do everything for all. It would be impossible.”

He pressed his forehead into Firuz’s arm. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass about it.” Not letting go of Afsoneh’s hand, Firuz kissed the top of their brother’s head. “I’m sorry I’ve been a shit sibling.” Tone a bit too bright, Afsoneh said, “At least you’ve been shit siblings together.” “Shit siblings, all three of us,” agreed Firuz.

What does it mean to be oppressed when you were once an oppressor?

Firuz is not a hero, and Kofi is not a villain. Their ideological clash ends in violence, as so many often do, but Firuz does not come away with the triumphant knowledge that they won. They didn’t win. As they began the story, so they conclude it: a marginalized person in a country afraid of its own recolonization.

As a multi-marginalized person in the United States, I think a lot about this country’s treatment of the Other and the ways in which this country was built on the backs of those very people. And though I can trace the historical, social, and cultural factors from which many of today’s issues stem, I come back again to the same fear of the Other: a fear of resource loss, of morality loss, of dignity loss. An actual rather than imagined reality for so many people who live in this country today, including over 11 million undocumented immigrants, and so many more who are willing to feel that ostracism in the hopes of achieving a different and better future for their families.