Tonight I met a guy from Chechnya. I saw the bayonet cuts on his neck and back, the burns from the torching of his home. I saw the tears when he told me how they killed his father, mother, wife and sisters.
My poor arabic employed in an attempt to instill some camaradarie, my pitiful attempt to bring some meaning to this meeting, some future to his daughters life not tainted by hate but hope. I saw the pity and disdain in my friends eyes. I can't walk away from this without trying for something more positive.
My poor arabic employed in an attempt to instill some camaradarie, my pitiful attempt to bring some meaning to this meeting, some future to his daughters life not tainted by hate but hope. I saw the pity and disdain in my friends eyes. I can't walk away from this without trying for something more positive.