Refugee Poem by Dr. Ahmed Gumaa Siddiek

I
Refugee.
Refugee
Refugee
And sometimes you make it better
To call me asylum seeker
But I am a woodpecker
Just moving free
From tree to tree
To build a nest
To rest
And embrace my newborn
To my breast
II
I am not a refugee,
I am not a refugee
I am the victim of the East
I am the prey of the West
III
I am not a refugee
I am a simple human being
With very little dream
Very little dream
A mouthful of bread
And a piece of ice-cream
A rag of cloth to cover my nakedness
And a piece of mattress
to sleep,
And a glass of milk to stop the baby to weep
And for the girl I need a little Barbee toy
And a singing clock for the boy
IV
Refugee,
You call me refugee
But behind me
I left a sweet home and a library
Tens of books to read
And many friends were there
Where I used to play
And there stood
The remains of my home
It was of mud, straw and clay
But warm and happy, I dare say
V
And there was the big tree
Where I used to sit
With my girl
Planning for the wedding day
And there was the sea
Where I had once dreamt to flee
And there were the boats
Waiting on the bay for me
VI
But now you call me refugee,
I am not a refugee
Here is my story
And a long story it could be
VII
Once upon a time there were
Several men and women
And children on a boat in the sea
They were from different races
From many places
Africans,
Asians,
And some Arabs from Yemen
In fact, they were from Aden
There were:
Ali from Iraq,
Sillasy from Eritrea,
Hassan from Somalia
Shabore from Lahore
Lyla from Aleppo
Azeem from Afghanistan,
And I was from Sudan
We were all in the same boat,
Sharing the same human fate
And the same human feelings
VIII
We were all in a rocking boat in a rough sea
In a dark night we set out for the journey
In darkness where your hand could hardly see
My baby on my lap and the lady on my knee
An old man and his dame also clinging on me
And a young maid would cry also had to flee
And the terrible waves roaring as a falling tree
And beyond there was the vast eternity
IX
Refugee.
No. I am not a refugee
I am your guest I am supposed to be
To share your food and drink with me
It is history that repeats itself
Go back and read your history
Please, go back one century
When your grandpa came to my country
But he was not a refugee
Do you think he was invited for a wedding day?
Or he was a traveller who lost his way?
Do you think he came with bare hands or foot?
No, he came with a gun, well trained to shoot!
He tore down my peace and place
He robbed my wealth and health
And now you spit on my face
And call me refugee!
X
I am your guest, your company
You need my company!
Cause we have a long journey to go
So, we need to meet
As human mates
This is our fate, our woven destiny
I am not a refugee.
I am your guest
I am a part of you
As you are a part of me'*

*Langston Hughes