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Sahera Patel Poem
A cherished childhood spent cocooned in my inward-looking community,
Protected me from the indoctrination of a white-privileged history.
But when I stepped into a world where brown was under-represented
My identity…Was molested.
My speech, skin, hair and dress, seemed to cause the white man stress.
And brown was a tan on the white man’s skin,
But brown on a brown man stirred anger from within.
My thoughts and views were misaligned, with rooted, selective, historical lies.
My identity…Was compromised.
I was now paradoxically an exotic delight, a shameful pressure to apologise
For the privilege of living in the civilised world, where white and West comfortably merge.
My education spoke of no oppressive past, the Normans and Saxons, unequivocal facts.
No mention of my ancestors, murdered. Indigenous peoples, exploited, slaughtered.
Building privilege through the strength of tyranny,
Calculated villainy.
White privilege, invisible to the white, naked eye. Yet it lives in every coloured breath,
In every silent cry.
I have lived with an unseen claim, that white is right and everything else is to blame.
But lessons in life inspired me to rise and pronounce myself with an internal pride.
To name and shame the blood-stained colonialist, the callous, indifferent, imperialist.
And from their murderous history, rose the modern man insecurity,
The truth, the bloody, brutal, truth, that is the black man’s reality.
Still evident today is a strong disclination, reflected in the ignorance of the nation
To admit that their historical success, was moralistically, humanely, a bloody mess.
But not all should hang their head in shame…it’s not you but your past that is to blame.
Yet the consequences of those crimes, have won you privilege and power through time.
And the legacy of the other: disadvantage, subjugation, intimidation, domination.
And still they make subconscious judgements, of my backward, other, non-conformist views.
A stubbornness in accepting and respecting the path that I decide to choose.
Delve deep into your history, open up your subliminal mind,
And ask the difficult questions, seek, unfeigned, with loosened pride.
Copyright © Sahera Patel | Year Posted 2020
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Sahera Patel Poem
The Revered Female
Female Muslims, supressed they say.
Thoughts and voices kept at bay.
Born to breed, must take heed.
Brains in chains, master reigns.
Wives and mothers, fit for purpose.
Conceal their strength, limit their wealth.
Faith constrains, potential wanes.
Feminism jailed, Islam, failed.
Yet Islam stands for equality. Promoting personality.
Establishing legality. Protection of morality.
Cover up to liberate, alleviate, dissipate.
Society’s norm. Renunciate.
Inheritance rights, clear and concise.
What’s mine is mine, but he must provide.
Mothers honoured, not simply endured.
Paradise lies in the glint of her eyes.
Look at your spouse with adoration.
God’s Mercy will come. Glorification.
Her sexual rights must be fulfilled,
Or protestation, is rightfully willed.
Once the gaze is inverted, from all things haram.
We tread the true path, to a spiritual Islam.
Where women are held in high esteem.
Respected, protected, represented, revered.
But historical habits, refuse to leave.
Culture distorts and as ever misconceives.
Ignorance keeps the struggle alive.
The believing women, lost in their own plight.
Education and empowerment must lead the way.
To enlighten, inspire. Eliminate the grey.
Know that my faith is not where lies the fight.
As Islam was the first to make legal our rights.
Copyright © Sahera Patel | Year Posted 2020
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