‘PRISON ISN’T PART OF THE PLAN, IT’S PART OF THE GAME’

The interview began with him sitting across the table, comfortably leaning back against the chair, legs stretched and arms folded. He was ready. Kev is 18. He’s Asian, tall, slim and youthful.

He had a high-fade haircut and was dressed in a crisp white T-shirt, khaki tracksuit bottom and trainers. It was a location of his choice.

Although Kev disclosed his addiction and acknowledged a few deficiencies since consuming the illicit drugs regularly, he was adamant it was not a ‘big deal’.

With no hesitation he confessed, “Yeah, I’m 100 per cent mother fucking addicted, can’t go a day without it, smoke up at least two or three zoots a day.”

Despite the serious psychiatric effects that can be induced by smoking weed, from Kev’s perspective, weed is harmless because it doesn’t kill you.

He admitted it gets in the way of his potential to perform the best of his capability for his A-level studies, “My memory’s not sharp as it used to be, I can’t get myself to go to lessons without being high, I have to take weed before my exams otherwise I can’t concentrate for two hours – I was high when I got A-star for my English GCSE exams, I mean, I’m even high right now.”

According to the statistics published by the NHS in 2017, the number of deaths related to legal and illegal drug poisoning has drastically increased since 1993 in England and Wales – 3,744 fatalities in all, a record level.

Habitual use of weed is associated with a range of long term developmental and social dangers. In 2014, a study by Northwest Medicine of teen marijuana illustrated how marijuana significantly impacts the brain activity causing it to decrease and look similar to the brains of people with schizophrenia.

Drug use also leads to feelings of paranoia along with hallucinations, trouble in concentration, decreased ability to perform and complete tasks that require co-ordination; these are only a few of the detrimentals induced from smoking weed.

Kev is convinced he has the willpower and self-confidence to stop whenever, he quietly shrugged, “I just don’t want to right now ‘cos it’s not that deep.”

He spoke of growing up thinking drugs was something too serious to even think about, but watching movies revolving around gang fights and drugs, he was intrigued by the glamorisation and thrill of it and again, coming to the conclusion that ‘it’s not that deep’.

Noticing the laptop open, he leant forward, his gold chain swinging off his neck tapping the table. His blood-shot eyes scanned the laptop. His stance stiffened as he reminded me for the umpteenth time: no voice recording, no pictures, no names.

“No snitching to the feds,” he said.

Once he was content with the setting again, he sat back down to continue his story: He began dealing at the age of 12 while attending a strictly religious school based in east London; not taking but selling, he began smoking and sniffing from year 10. He and several friends would hang around Brick Lane after school as ‘shotters’.

Except now he’s ‘gone up the ladder’, he’s progressed as the ‘middleman’ and so makes a lot more money. Demonstrating the ranking with his hands, he explained the hierarchy:

The Supplier (who grows the drugs) which he sells to the middleman (who sells) it to the next shotter, who then finally sells to the ‘ordinary people’.

Having started a partnership last year with his cousin Ray, 21, it was clear he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

He told us that 25 per cent goes to Ray while 75 per cent is kept for himself. They both live in Camden and have the same connections across Brixton, Stepney and Tottenham.

Dealing with family didn’t concern him at all, the word guilt appeared foreign to him as it fixed the biggest confused expression on his face, “Why would I feel guilty? It’s a booming business ‘cause obvi man has that teetee flavour!”

“I’m gonna keep buying and selling till I hit enough. You don’t involve emotions in business, all I’m doing for now is reinvesting in drugs. I’ll save the regret for the future,” he boasted.

He provided an insight to his earnings: one gram sells for £10, 3.5g for £30, 7g for £60,14g for £100, 28g for £200.

“The best thing I’ve spent my drug money on was my 18th birthday. I funded it all myself;  a night at Four Seasons and spent over £1,000 on flavs and alcohol. The most memorable night of my life!”

A night at the luxurious Four Seasons was a minimum £700 per night, before drinks.

The question which clearly took the most courage to answer, why did he start it?

“To fit in, peer pressure, everyone around me was taking it, one way or another it’s always got to do with a friend but no-one wants to say that because they sound like pussies you know?”

Kev lives with his mum and no longer communicates with his father. “He’s a crackhead, I hate him, a complete nitty. Mans who smoke crack are nitties, that’s passing the limit. I know of ‘em but I’ve never touched ’em.”

Crack kills, he said, so it’s harmful. Kev denies any childhood influence, the absence of a father figure in his life since the age of 11 has not affected him a single bit he says. His mother sent him to a private primary, a private secondary and employed private after-school tutors. She’s strict, religious and staunch on the importance of education.

To read the full article: Artefact Magazine

 

MUSLIM ROHINGYANS: SYSTEMATIC SLAUGHTER

With more than 600,000 Rohingyans forced to cross into Bangladesh and seek refuge, the statistics on brutal attacks and aggression are outrageously increasing day by day, all due to the inter-communal violence, and extreme radicalisation inflicted by the Burmese army.

This has resulted in the crisis becoming the fastest-growing refugee emergency in the world. It is no surprise they are described as “the world’s most persecuted minority”. They are an oppressed ethnic minority who have been revoked of their equal citizenship rights by the Buddhist-majority Burma (Myanmar), who regard the Rohingya Muslims as illegal immigrants from Bangladesh.

It’s an urgent humanitarian crisis as the Muslim population in the state of Rakhine continues to be denied access to basic human rights and the lack of international action is simply a disgrace.

On Friday, November 10, within minutes of reaching the borders of Cox’s Bazar’s Teknaf, and witnessing first-hand, the state of the refugee camp, it was too much of a tragic scene to be prepared for.

Overwhelmed, an RY volunteer member impulsively made a direct call to one the founders Nazmin Chowdhury, “You won’t believe what we’re seeing here, they’re begging and pleading for just a bottle of water.”

The team were ready to distribute aid and food packs, which included basic meals and water which he described as ‘a tiny drop in the ocean’.

The founder emphasised the urgency to Artefact: “You see, it’s a desperate situation. Two months ago, when the crisis was at its peak, the demand for food was so extreme, that any clothes that were given, they were just chucking it away. It was for food they begged for. They wanted food, they needed food.”

The UK based charity, Rafeequl Yateem, were one of the very first charities who responded to the major fundraising appeal to help the thousands of people fleeing violence in Burma. In collaboration with another non-profit organisation, UHTH (Ummah Helping the Ummah), they aim to raise awareness of the plight of the Rohingya people.

A report released by The International Rescue Committee exposed an estimation of 75,000 people to have  suffered from gender-based violence, 45 per cent of the Rohingya women have reported of such attacks from which Unicef have recorded, and there are 50,000 arriving pregnant everyday to the camp.

Hasina Begum, 26, arrived traumatised bearing horrific accounts of massacre and assault at the hands of the Burmese soldiers during her escape from her village Korma.

“There used to be a house we would take cover in when it was night time, but even there, the Burma Army used to give us problems. They used to bring us out of the house and torture the boys and then separate the girls to rape them up in the hills – the young, the unmarried, everyone. When anyone would try and protect the girls they would shoot them.”

To read the full article: Artefact Magazine

 

PALESTINE: REMEMBER, REMEMBER, THE 4TH OF NOVEMBER

Just another week in Palestine:

• October 22: Israeli soldiers execute a 17-year-old Palestinian girl in the Old City of Hebron.
• October 23: Israeli naval forces open fire on Palestinian fishing boats off the coast of the Gaza Strip.
• October 24: Israeli colonists flood dozens of Palestinian olive trees with sewage water, near the West Bank city of Nablus.
• October 25: Israeli settlers attack Palestinian farmers while they are harvesting near the West Bank district of Ramallah.
• October 26: The Israeli army invades the village of Khirbit Yanoun, demolishing a home, during a training drill.
• October 27: Israeli soldiers abduct a young man near the city of Ramallah, after opening fire on his car.
• October 28: Israeli soldiers break into the homes of Yassin Bassam, and abduct him and his brother Ghanem, after conducting a violent search of their homes and interrogating several family members.

All in one week, in one country, against one identity. Because being a Palestinian is a crime.

It is the world’s most controversial conflict yet, as it disgracefully proceeds with more bloodshed and massacres, a shameful silence also grows towards the contentious issue.

November 2, 2017, will mark the centenary of the Balfour Declaration. But do you hear a moment of silence? No.

Theresa May invited Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to commemorate the anniversary of the occasion, a celebration generously hosted by the Lords Balfour and Rothschild which Jeremy Corbyn refused to attend.

The 67 word proclamation issued by then British Foreign Secretary, Arthur Balfour to Lord Walter Rothschild, a British Zionist leader, is said to have led to the formation of the state of Israel, sparked the Israeli-Palestinian dispute and the ceaseless ‘Nakba’ – the ethnic cleansing of the Palestinians.

The controversial pledge included “a national home for the Jewish people” stated in the document, which was seen as the long-awaited permission for the Zionists to create a Jewish state, even though Britain bore no legal rights nor any moral grounds to promise one people’s land to another.

In other words, explicit as it may be and whether it was knowingly or unknowingly, the blood-drenched letter which foreordained the history of the Middle East was a form of British colonisation.

Read the full article: Artefact Magazine

 

 

 

 

 

SOUTH ASIAN, MUSLIM & GAY

Existence of discrimination is all around us and manifests in many ways, especially racism, Islamophobia, homophobia, sexism, and ageism.

Although it’s the most colourful community to the eyes of the world, the persistence of racism and Islamophobia also lurks amongst the mainstream LGBT community against Muslim, queer, minority ethnic people.

The sooner this problem is acknowledged, the sooner it can be dealt with. There’s a minority within a minority constituting a marginalised group into further sub-groups of their own community.

Already ostracised within their religious communities, many are also exiled from their homes and rejected from the Asian community as a result of internalised racism.

So the one place they rightfully feel the most comfort in should be their safe space – the LGBT community; amongst the people who are meant to be sharing and advocating the same values and where they feel most appreciated and not judged of their identity. People they are, ultimately, meant to share a kinship with.

However, it doesn’t seem to be that simple…

Read the full article: Artefact Magazine

 

Black, Muslim and Female – A Triple Threat

Racism is rising faster than ever right now following the world changing events such as the EU referendum and the US presidential election. Having the drastic changes following one after the other, each a symptom promoting racism in society, it has given the chance for closet racists, xenophobes to publicly express their hate towards anyone who looks even slightly foreign.

   Living in the post- referendum and American election, it has become quite the claustrophobic  atmosphere for many. Walking down the streets of Britain, racial and religious motivated crimes are now only expected, proven by the stats recorded by The Independent, just after Brexit , there was an upsurge of 42% hate crimes which included 289 incidents on the very next day after Brexit announcement – 25th June.  A high target for the xenophobes reported by the police are the Muslims, in particular, the females who wear the  hijabs (headscarves).

  A recent news which made headlines was the Tottenham attack where a hijab was pulled off a young woman by two men in broad daylight. Aware of these increasing violations, it has resulted  many Muslim women to think  twice about covering their head. It has effected in either a stronger determination on applying the head cover, or some removing it for safety to avoid any chance of harassment.

  Moreover, looking into the situation of racism more deeply, it is an infection found even amongst the cultural and religious settings. Familiar with this disturbing issue, Aalisha Green, 20, a Goldsmith literature student reveals, “ It’s sad because a lot of Islam is  about peace, love and acceptance and I think now Islam has morphed into a cultural thing instead of a religious thing and being affected by that, it’s really sad”.

 Ostracised even within religious communities; amongst the very people who should be sharing and advocating the same values and feel most appreciated and unjudged, Despite the famous hadith, a religious saying of the prophet:

‘ An Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab nor a non-Arab has any “superiority over an Arab; also a white has no superiority over a black nor a black has any superiority over white’,

the ignorance of following even what the religion commands just proves how racism is clearly at its peak. Aalishas parents were both converts to Islam, her Jamaican father, an ex-christian and Indian mother, an ex-hindu. She describes her family as staunch believers of Islam but personally for her, expressing it through her hijab was a very difficult task as she felt it was the cause of her being ‘singled out’ while involved in activities she engages in regularly like ice-skating, drama and singing. Not only was she the only black, but also the only one covered from head to toe.  She states, ‘Now that i no longer wear a hijab i don’t feel so out of place like i did usually when i attend my gymnastic sessions’.

  A fear foreseen by many, the Brexit  and American election proved to have many ramifications, and therefore, some were indeed prepared.  Ruqayyah Fombo,21,  a secondary maths teacher, is active in advocating to her students on being proud of their identity. She believes there is an absence of black staff in comparison to there are of whites. She explained in response to the attacks,‘‘ I just think that unfortunately, I see at as something that as a long time coming.’ She also responded to the to the results of the global changes “… now it’s  become the norm for you to be able to express your hatred towards certain minority groups within society, and muslims are part of that and there’s a constant media backlash towards Muslim, and the bias is getting stronger and stronger.”

 

Answer Me Man

Tell me old man –

From where are those eyes?

Where vivacious lights sparkled.

Carelessly, once danced.

But now they’ve frozen. They’re drifting.

So cold, those eyes have become.

As if paused in the memories,

Far, far, you’ve locked behind.

Oh. You don’t want to remember,

Why?

I ask how long. You shrug your shoulder. Slumped.

But, not even a second past – you mutter.

It’s tattooed in your heart – 1986, seventh of November.

You lost it?

No. No. It was stolen. Home, family, name.

All stolen.

But still I could not stop looking, how hard I have tried,

like god himself poured the skies into those eyes –

that’s how gracious, how gentle – yet dangerously grey,

you know the heavy side. The burdened side – that pulls down the clouds

confusion clouds your eyes.

So I point to the sky –

This country’s only cloud I say. You smirk. Now you understand.

Ah sir … were you thinking blue when I said skies?

The azure contacts she always begs you to buy,

Your daughter. Twelve.

Every morning she quickly sticks them in her eyes,

Forces. Pushes. Colours in a lie

You want to stop her – Yell at her don’t!

I know you do.

But you don’t. You won’t. Because, honestly -you know why too.

Oh but If only she knew – the beauty that she hides.

But she was never told, not once did she hear

That she was a child of another, somewhere much further- someplace much better

Not at all for this style here, where they want her to look like theirs.

But she does try. She does cry. To desperately make sense of who she is.

When you stopped in the nights, her bedtime …

You showered her with stories of a magical land.

Myths and legends you said it was.

Then you stopped. Ordered her to grow.

But a culture more special, more magical,

She was a child of the golden sun!

But you’ll never fool me!

No, no, I know. All too well.

 

Can’t you tell? I’m a poet.

I can decipher the truth from your lies.

I can write about silence.

 

Do pardon me for pointing out sir.

But the curiosity is killing me.

I really must ask –

The stories of the past, are they really all just false fantasies?

It’s your hair.

I see from the raven peeking beneath

And the fading yellow stains outgrown – only patches here and there remain

Just looks unnatural to say the least,

The raven – it reminds me

The rambles of the poets, survivors of the past.

I read the blackness of those hairs is dark as the desert nights

God’s very own blanket they say.

Where not a star can hide, too luminous its lights

Its black tattles away, whispers the secret away.

Another question sir,

 I only noticed as you keep tugging,

Pulling down your sleeves.

The map on your palms –

The blue rivers engraved –

So thick, so firm.

I’m curious.

Those rivers, to where do they lead?

You respond, gruff.

It’s where the water wonders clear

Between the mountains built on sand that would slip into your shoes.

Curl your toes.

You miss it – the million grains blowing past you. The sand stroking you.

Now you have rain, wet. Really wet.

But how it’s never enough to wash away the pain.

 

Your name here butchered –

It was Rayaan you told them.

He didn’t even try, shaking his head just no,

he grumbled –

No.

It’s a tongue twist game, a challenge too tough on their tongue-

Change it old man.

Fix it to their voice.

Master it to its inflection. Perfection. Clarification.

He scribbled down. Ryan.

Oh wow, they really do want you out of that skin.

More fitting it sounds.

Head down, you complied.

Obedience … or cowardice?

 

You confess; it’s hard. It is  so hard.

It’s hard to keep it in!

But it’s harder to tell!

Because images still flash-

Of those still stuck behind borders, behind bars the past.

I can see it –

All too clear. 

It burns your heart.

Confess

Tell the world about us.

Tell them were getting ready.

But first.

Confess!

Lay down your ego and concede.

Concede to them our faults –

How we accepted –

When they tried to blind us.

How we accepted –

when they whispered lies.

Also, tell them –

Of how close we were –

how we almost – just almost!

…  selfishly surrendered.

To when they tried and tried –

To steal our name and sell our dreams.

So hard they tried and relentlessly tested.

To have us kneel and bow our heads –

So,

confess!

lay down your ego and confess.

To how foolishly we feared,

that ignorance befell us.

Though not any longer –

lift your head and level your eyes.

And finally tell them –

Tell them were getting ready.

Tell them who we are.

Tell the world of about us –

of our revolution.