A young boy sees his father fall, his blood seeping into the soil, his screams dying in the smoke of the charred land. The eyes that once followed the joyful arc of a swing, that gleamed with childhood light, are the same eyes that watch the erasure of his entire bloodline.
Every part of the boy has become a witness to what has been done to his land and people. The ears his grandmother once twisted in playful scolding now ring with screams and bombs. The nose that once marked him as his father’s son now inhales death—and the musk of martyrs. The smile that once lit up a thousand faces, gone forever, swallowed by the darkness of his world.
He grows up, with eyes, ears and nose that will never forget all they have witnessed, nor those who inflicted such terror. The occupation left him with only one purpose: to avenge his loved ones as the last one standing. He makes it his life’s work to protect the sight, the voices, the laughter of generations yet to come.
His own are beyond saving.
He fights, hoping there is still time. He does not wish for the next generation to inherit the same fate: senses scarred by horror, smiles that never return.
Who is this man?
To some, he is a terrorist. To others, a hero.
Artwork courtesy of our featured artist Ernest Williamson III, PhD
