Mother of Faris Al-Baroud, hunger striker, died today before seeing him. She hadn’t seen him in 15 years. She died with a broken heart.
تأخرت في الحضور إلى خيمة التضامن...وليس من عادتها...فلما تحسسوا غيابها علموا أنها في المشفى تحتضر...فما كان منها...
إلا الوفاء والقسم معهم..غادرت روحها بحضورهم ،،وكيف لا..وهم من قاسموها ألم الإنتظار في خيمة الإعتصام ..
والدة الأسير البطل #فارس_البارود في ذمة الله
الله يرحمها ويجعل مثواه الجنه
هاي الي ربت زلم ورجال
The Long Hunger Strike (Against Slavery)
by Nicholas Mirzoeff
These posts are difficult to write and I’m sure they are difficult to read. By measuring the time taken to write–or to read–it is possible enter the symbolic world created by the hunger strike, a world in which existence matters. It is the force of the statement made by the strike that enables this fragmentary sliver of participation. It is their gift to those in solidarity, the hospitality of those utterly without resource. Like all gifts, it invokes a response, the taking of the time to feel for an instant the stakes of their action.
For a hunger strike both compresses and expands time. Every moment without sustenance is freighted with meaning and, after the first days, haunted with danger. And yet it also makes things visible. It opens the understanding of the long hunger strike from Atlantic slavery, to British imperialism, women’s suffrage and the Israeli occupation of Palestine.(Read the full article here)