The Fire’s Echo

“It often feels as if it was never an interrogation from their side, no genuine questions about our complex lives, our nuanced traditions. There were no questions asked of our aspirations, our dreams for tomorrow. Instead, there was just a truth demand, a pre-packaged understanding of who we were, based on reports from distant lands. And when my words, or the words of my fellow bloggers across this vast continent, did not fit the narrative they held, when we spoke of innovation, of art, of peace, there was a subtle pushback. It felt like another blow to the head, not of violence, but of dismissal, of being ignored, of a quiet attempt to make you remember the established story. Sometimes, the weariness descends, and I confess, maybe confessing would be easier – to simply echo their expectations, to become another voice repeating a familiar, simplified tale. Easier, yes, than becoming another blood smear on the wall – a forgotten blog post, a story lost in the cacophony because it dared to be different. The struggle for linguistic and cultural self-determination, for owning our own story, continues in this digital age.”