Write the Wrong

JERMAINE AGYEI-BUROBEY

FRANCESCA AMATO

AYAH BENBERNA

ERICA FERNANDES

PRINCESS GERE

NUR HOSSAIN

SAJJAD HOSSAIN

AMY LOCKE-DENCH

CHLOE MILLER

JAMILA MUTTLABE

SUMAYA OMAR

BRAVE NEW WORDS FROM YOUNG WRITERS AT NEWHAM 6TH FORM COLLEGE

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Write the Wrong DJ Print.pdf 1 09/06/2015 14:50

EDITED BY JOELLE TAYLOR AND KAT LEWIS

WRITETHE

WRONG


10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1Collection copyright English PEN, 2015The moral right of the authors has been asserted.The views expressed in this book are those of the individual authors, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the editors, publishers or English PEN.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of the book.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Smith & Watts PrintIpswich RoadColchesterEssex CO4 0ADwww.smithwattsprint.co.uk

Design and illustrations by Brett Evans Biedscheid,www.statetostate.co.uk

ISBN No. 978-0-9931705-4-6www.englishpen.org

INTRODUCTIONS2 Femi Martin 4 Louise Swan 5 Eddie Playfair

7 LEAN ON ME Amy Locke-Dench

7 WHO I AM Sumaya Omar

8 TOO FOCUSSED Sumaya Omar

9 YET ANOTHER DREAM Jamila Muttlabe

10 ALONE WITH THESE PLAIN BLANK WALLS Ayah Benberna

12 HAPPY? Ayah Benberna

14 WHATS IT WORTH? Amy Locke-Dench

15 WHY? INDIFFERENCE Francesca Amato

17 THE GHOSTS BEHIND YOU Francesca Amato

18 NOTHING IS WRONG IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY Erica Fernandes

19 SOMETHING I HAVE LEARNED Princess Gere

19 QUESTIONS OF THE HEART Sumaya Omar

20 HEARTBREAK Princess Gere

21 HIM Princess Gere

24 ON HUNGER Erica Fernandes

25 I

SOMETIMES ITS HARD TO FIND THE RIGHT WORDS. LANGUAGE IS PERHAPS OUR MOST EFFECTIVE WAY OF COMMUNICATING WITH THE WORLD, BUT WHEN WE ARE SEARCHING FOR WORDS IN THE CORNERS OF OUR MINDS OR TRYING TO PUSH THEM OFF THE TIPS OF OUR TONGUES, LANGUAGE CAN FEEL LIKE A BARRIER.

THESE YOUNG WRITERS FOUGHT THROUGH DOUBTS, FEARS, AND TIME CONSTRAINTS TO PUT DOWN ON PAPER HOW THEY SEE THE WORLD. FOR MANY OF THEM, ENGLISH IS NOT THEIR MOTHER TONGUE, BUT THEY BENT AND SHAPED IT TO FIT THEIR INTENTION.

WRITE THE WRONG ASKS US QUESTIONS, AND ASKS QUESTIONS OF US. IT IS A COLLECTION OF WORK FROM BRAVE VOICES THAT JUMPS OVER HURDLES AND BREAKS THROUGH BARRIERS. I COULDNT BE PROUDER OF THESE TALENTED YOUNG WRITERS. THE RIGHT WORDS WERE FOUND.

FEMI MARTINJUNE 2015

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An English PEN book / READERS & WRITERS

3WRITE THE WRONG

4An English PEN book / READERS & WRITERS

English PEN is the founding centre of an international writers association, working to promote literature and freedom of speech. Our outreach programme, Readers & Writers, works with communities where the power of literature can help transform lives. We have been running creative writing and translation workshops at NewVIc since 2012 and, thanks to the enthusiasm of both students and staff, a strong partnership has been established.

NewVIc generously agreed to fund English PENs Brave New Words creative writing workshops. We are deeply appreciative of this support, which has allowed a new approach to be developed. In response to feedback from past participants in English PEN workshops, Brave New Words has given students the opportunity to experience the complete process of writing and publishing. They have spent two months not only developing their writing but also taking part in sessions on editing and design: they chose the title of this anthology and selected the pieces. I hope what they have learned and shared during this project encourages them to continue expressing themselves with confidence, as they start the next chapter in their lives.

Thanks to Eddie Playfair, Kate Reed, Steven Kern and Chloe Miller from NewVIc for their support of Brave New Words.

Thanks also to designer Brett Evans Biedscheid and English PEN Programmes Co-ordinators Mazin Saleem and Rebekah Murrell.

Of course the biggest thank you goes to the NewVIc students who took part in the project and to Femi Martin who led the workshops, supporting the students in writing and publishing their work.

LOUISE SWANHead of Programmes, English PENJune 2015

WRITE THE WRONG

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Poetry is not a luxury, something we only turn to when more important things have been seen to. Poetry is essential. We need to listen to it, read it, write it, seek it out and welcome it daily into our lives. It helps us think about our world and feel it more fully. It opens us up and connects us to others.

The young poets in this collection have embraced the poetic form and thrown themselves into it at full speed and the resulting poems are fresh and explosive and I love them all.

This is the third anthology arising from the collaboration between NewVIc and English PEN. We are delighted with the results and proud of our brave new voices: Amy, Sumaya, Jamila, Ayah, Francesca, Erica, Princess, Jermaine, Chloe, Sajjad and Nur.

Thank you also to Femi, Rebekah, Mazin, Brett and Louise from English PEN, to Kate and Steven from NewVIc and to everyone involved in working on this wonderful collection.

EDDIE PLAYFAIRPrincipal, Newham Sixth Form College (NewVIc)June 2015

6An English PEN book / READERS & WRITERS

7WRITE THE WRONG

LEAN ON MEAMY LOCKE-DENCH

Here I stand opposite Parliament,

A light for a head, a shadow for a friend.

That building is a marvel, a castle,

Surrounded by a world in downfall.

At night, I see what seems to never end.

I shed light on those less sturdy than I

Who stare up at me with a glimmer in their eye.

I am their beacon of empty hope,

Stare too long and they begin to cry.

Their home and their world has been taken,

And though I am inanimate, I can see

What those in that castle forget to believe.

Some are out here, whilst they are in there.

Surely there is a room or two to spare,

If not hundreds from what I can see.

How can humans bear this inequality?

WHO I AMSUMAYA OMAR

Do I know who I am? Am I just rejecting it?

Do I value myself? Am I scared to show it?

Do I actually live? Or am I just a living shadow?

Am I just a confused teenager? Or do I underestimate myself?

Will I ever be able to love? Or am I just avoiding heartbreaks?

Am I scared of failing myself? Or am I worried how people will take it if I do?


TOO FOCUSSEDSUMAYA OMAR

Too focussed on trying to be a somebody I lose myself in meThought I was doing me but in reality I was just playing a role advertised to me Through a propaganda sceneBy people who claim to be Dear to me But allure me To a poisonous tree

You see Im not tryna blame nobody But its hard to dilute a heart which was Spread by anger Dipped by hate Slashed by violence And love LoveWhich sits on top but the heart doesnt salute

You see King Martin Luther said Let freedom ring from the mountains!But here we are today Captivated by our flawsThese chains of insecurities hold us hostagesAll tryna be like the model in the magazine who appears carefreeBut little do we know if we read between the lines we seeShe is just Another body with no soul Falling further into a black hole Making us unknown

You see this artificial world is hypocritical As we create lies and make them digital

Not tryna hypnotize you with these rhymesIm just tryna make you see the signsBefore you lose yourself in the half-lit dimensional world between who you are and what they want you to be

In other words: just learn to appreciate yourself

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9WRITE THE WRONG

YET ANOTHER DREAMJAMILA MUTTLABE

I have a dream

A dream is a dream

Filled with infinite power,

Not something that should make people cower.

At the best of times I feel it,

Sometimes even as strong as a fit.

Everyone has a dream, ambitions, a goal

Something that can rectify the soul.

Martin Luther King had a dream

For the American nation to rise in equality

He achieved the dream he longed for

He got to change the law

So why cant I?

Bengali, Muslim and female

I guess I didnt get the email

That we are not supposed to hope to,

That we are not supposed to wish to,

That we are not supposed to dream to,

To go into the entertainment business.

We are expected to drink tradition;

Eat out of our husbands pockets.

But I will be the one to knock it.

I wont sit back and accept it

I will be different and make something of myself.

I will have my name written in a book on that shelf.

My parents are not going to live my life for me

So I will strive and be the best that I can be

They say that my dream is wrong and crappy

But I say, nothing is wrong if it makes you happy.

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ALONE WITH THESE PLAIN BLANK WALLS AYAH BENBERNA

Alone with these plain blank walls, I wish I could smell his sweet essence. I could always recognise it from far away. I long to feel comfort in the touch that made every single last hair on my back prickle like a cactus. My beloved husband has left me to live alone.

I arrived at the funeral knowing that I would shortly have to wear a smile.I was scared. I was scared that I wouldnt be able to do it. I couldnt. I couldnt smile whilst the most important person in my life had left me to breathe alone.

As I stepped out of the car, his mother was standing in front of me.She looked me in the eyes; we both instantly knew what was going on in each others mind.

We ran towards each other, holding one another as we sobbed till our lightly applied make up had dissolved.

I feel good; she gave me strength for a few moments. Although her strength did not affect me for long, it was there when I most needed it. For this reason I will always be thankful to her. Everything she ever did to hurt me has been buried with my husband.

I now know the true meaning of life is too short. People who are present in all things and grateful for all things are content with all things. I am now a changed woman and I will cherish every moment with everyone forever.

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WRITE THE WRONG

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HAPPY?AYAH BENBERNA

Nothing is wrong if it makes you happy

Wrong, what is the meaning of wrong?

What is wrong?

What makes a situation wrong?

Nothing is wrong if it makes you happy

Happy, what is happiness?

What is happy, is it long term or short term?

What makes a human happy?

Happy: when your expectations are fulfilled

Wrong: when someone elses expectations are not fulfilled

So, what happens when the two collide?

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WHATS IT WORTH?AMY LOCKE-DENCH

I was there, hammer to hand, and ready to shatter the glass, along with my freedom and dignity. The jewellers had officially become a crime scene, with my friends urging me to see the job through. But I just stared at that majestic, carat-coated marvel. So unique and refined; how could it not divert my thoughts to him? There they were, his eyes glistening back at me in the diamond. I was transfixed. His beautiful blues, so full of life... but they went too soon. His life was the glamorous flash of a camera: fast, yet still somehow capturing every moment fully. I rattled the glass casing; I was desperate to see him once more in the crystal balls I thought I saw contained within. I was ushered away by a lesser friend. Not him, he would never have seen me into such a situation. He was smart, together, respectable. He wouldnt have let me carry out such a pitiful, pathetic crime.

Coming away from the shop, we ran to our car and I was the only one empty handed. I wept embarrassingly.

Can I get out please?I dont think so, mate!Please!

The car halted and I sprung from the back seat. Then I ran. Just ran. Because running is all I have ever been good at. Even at the worst of times, say, when a best friend has yet to say his final words.

I didnt steal the diamond, as I know what its like to lose something precious.

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WHY? INDIFFERENCE.FRANCESCA AMATO

People always turn their back on others who have problems or are suffering.

Why? Why did you leave me when I most needed you?

Everyone wants a happy life, an easy life, a without-complications life; so when their brothers and sisters scream for help, they become deaf.

Why? Why did you turn your back on me?

We are now used to not caring for the worlds problems, thinking that someone will take care of the things that we are not worrying about.

Why? Why did you run?

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THE GHOSTS BEHIND YOUFRANCESCA AMATO

What happened?What is going on?Is someone in there?

There Ben stood, in the middle of six people shouting and questioning different things. They were wondering why his van in front of his new restaurant was being slowly devoured by flames. He wasnt. Indeed, he already knew the answer. It had been set on fire by them.

Its going to explode! he screamed, full of fear.Everyone hid behind a building. Time seemed to stand still. No one was moving or speaking; the silence was slowly filling the air.

Boom! A rain of fire and metal started to fall.

When it was quiet again, Ben sat on the pavement holding his head in his hands.He never wanted this. He ran away from his own country, left his wife and children, so that everyone around him could be safe. He dreamed of the day he could stop looking over his shoulder, move on. He just wanted to start a new life, but his ghosts had not yet finished with him.The mafia does not leave fugitives.He was hunted. They would never leave him alone.

Slowly, it dawned on him that he would never find peace. There was only one way to end it all.

Boom!

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NOTHING IS WRONG IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPYERICA FERNANDES

Nothing is wrong if it makes you happy. Making choices Happiness? Madness?Humans fight a whole life to know what is wrong and right.

What is right for youMight be wrong for me

So: what is wrong and right?

I ask this question every time I make choicesAnd every time the answers voice says: But if it makes you happy how could it be wrong?

When people say you cannot do that: how do you know that its wrong?

Who told you?

Society? Stereotypes? Moralities? Opinions? Lifestyle?

Thats why we have consequences for our choices and actions: life is the best teacher.

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WRITE THE WRONG

SOMETHING I HAVE LEARNEDPRINCESS GERE

If my past has taught me anything, its that we should cherish every single moment of our lives like it is our last. We should pay attention to everything; our emotions, our thoughts, our surroundings and the people we are with. And we should appreciate everything, what we have right now and right here. You never know when it will all get ripped away from you.

QUESTIONS OF THE HEARTSUMAYA OMAR

Why am I here?Who am I?Would I ever have achieved what I wanted and could I ever have answered all my questions?Is failure in my blood?What is in my blood?What is my blood?What pumps in my heart?What is in my heart?What is under my skin?Am I really loved? Or am I too stubborn to see it?Is there such thing as unconditional love?Like could you just love someone for the sake of it?Doesnt that get tiring?Or should I just appreciate what I got? Am I lucky?Do I know who I am or am I in denial?Am I too dumb to know what I can achieve?Can failure even be in my blood?Should I be me?

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HEARTBREAKPRINCESS GERE

It eats you,

From inside out

Leaving nothing

But loneliness.

With no one to hold,

With no one to cuddle,

With someone to love

But not to be loved back.

Bit by bit,

The loneliness takes over

Leaving me with nothing

But the wish to die.

Knowing the chance to be loved

Is slim.

To never know what being loved by you feels like

Knowing that Im alone, without you forever,

While you stay with her forever.

WRITE THE WRONG

HIMPRINCESS GERE

Him.

Why did he lie?

Why wont he tell me the truth?

Why wont he notice me?

Why do I still like him?

Why am I still falling for him?

Will this feeling ever go away?

Will he ever fall for me?

Could he ever learn to love me?

Why do I still have hope, when I know I shouldnt?

Why am I still waiting?

What am I waiting for?

What is he waiting for?

Is he worth waiting for?

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ON HUNGERERICA FERNANDES

There are a lot of problems in the world.Do you ever think: why are there so many problems? We could just live with balance and everything would be alright? Everything is a problem nowadays.

It is really hard to talk about problems in the world because its very general and certain people have different opinions on what is a problem.Could be the biggest or tiniest thing in the world: does not matter, it is a problem. Lets see... hunger.

I think hunger is a big problem; many children, adults, old people dont have money to buy food. Or for example in poor countries, the conditions make it impossible for them to grow food. Why? Why does it have to be like that? Why this imbalance?

Why this contrast between no food and food in the bin?

I dont know exactly who has the power to change this problem, but if we give a bit of our food or just share with someone else that doesnt have, we can make all the difference.

Without hunger, the world would be much easier.

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QUESTION POEM ERICA FERNANDES

What is the universe?

Who am I?

What is my background?

Should I ask my mum?

Should I find out by myself?

Why am I so different?

Why do I have unique thoughts?

Why sometimes do I feel that I am a gypsy? Or

Why sometimes do I feel that I am a witch?

Should I tell my mum?

Should I be quiet? Or

Should I find out by myself?

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WRITE THE WRONG

LOST PROPERTYJERMAINE AGYEI-BUROBEY

Disbelief often pairs well with shock; many times this lethal combination of emotions leave grown men paralysed, broken and terrified. As I lay frozen in a fit of terror before the hideous, snarling creature; my ability to rationalise quickly dissipated. Only instinct remained, which completely hijacked my senses: fight back! Fight back!

Of all the possible reasons in the world which I could contemplate, money was the last of those I had expected to draw out this relentless demon. Alas, there exists a saying about these scenarios, spoken by wise men: the love of money is the root of all evil. The tongue is mightier than the sword? Poppycock, I say. Which words of all the English language could possibly convince this devil in humans clothing?

Demon! I exclaimed, hoping to flinch him. Instead this only increased his rage; holding steadfast was my only option at this point. Devil! You devil! Give me my brother back! A rush of anguish quickly overpowered me as I realised the implication of such a judgement...

In the following moment, both the doppelgnger and I stood bewildered; yet we did not harmonise in the slightest. Our bewilderment stemmed from vastly different sources: his understanding (or lack thereof) was mostly physical or literal. Mine however, rose from a spiritual standpoint. I refused to believe that literal demon; that abomination; that manifestation of greed; was related to me in any manner, let alone my blood brother.

Where was the brother who would fight for me? Who would treat my wounds, or lift my downtrodden spirit? Where was the brother who would laugh with me? Appreciate me? Love me?

In the aftermath of the creatures assault, my psyche lay bruised and battered. As shameful as this is to admit, only an ocean of hopelessness became my platform of support. Despair engulfed me as like a shipwreck consumed by the depths. Yet, at the bottom of every ocean lies a sea floor; only few decisions were left to be made. Sink or swim.

Will I bounce back or bounce backwards? Will I make this newfound quest my responsibility? How can I search for that which cannot be seen? Only faith could lead me to progress with such a mission; the evidence of things not seen would guide me to revive our brotherhood.

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TFL TOTALLY FUCKING LAMEJAMILA MUTTLABE

Why is TFL so infuriating? Why do the buses look so ugly?Do they think we have no sight?And why does the bus driver think its okay to shut the door in my face? You dont do dem tings! Does he think its okay to make me late to college and look like a disgrace?Why do sideman hood rats think its okay to bust out Drake on their crappy phones? Bruv, are they dumb? Or can they not afford headphones?For why do these random babies turn back and stare at me?Am I that interesting or have you got nothing better to do? I know Im buff but can you please chill?Why is this sidedish sitting next to me talking so loud?Fam, you do realise the person youre talking to aint on a cloud? Like can you please calm down? Or are you trying to look like a clown? Maybe you can try to lower your voice? Why is that such a hard choice?Why is this person having a coughing fit without covering their mouth?Did your parents not teach you any manners?Or do I have to put it on a banner?WHY IS TFL SO INFURIATING?!

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SATIRICAL PSALM 22: A PSALM OF A TEACHERCHLOE MILLERMy God, my God, why have you forsaken me?Why so far from my smart targets am I?O my God, I ask for punctuality, and my students are tardy,My God I ask for quiet, and they chatter and talk.In You I entrusted, to bring me completed homework.To You I cried out, when they shouted outThe answer, instead of putting up their hands.But I am a teacher, not a miracle workerDespised by students, scorned by Ofsted.All those who see me, mock me,They dont pay attention, nor do they do what theyre told.They shoot out the lip, when I command that they put away their phones.They shake their heads at me when I ask if they rememberedWhat we did last lesson.But thou art he that cast me from my PGCE, thou didst make me hope when I was a NQT. My strength is dried up like a potsherd, with the marking of essaysAnd my tongue cleaveth to my jaws, to explain the 10 minute rule once again.Ye that fear exams, study and reviseand pray for deliverance from resits:Your good grades will live forever, and all the kindreds of UCAS shall worship before thy online application.

WRITE THE WRONG

THE MONTH OF MARCHAMY LOCKE-DENCH

The year seemed to halt in the month of March, the month of what I call the black hole. It occurs in the run up to examinations. Many can avoid being consumed by its force; I was not one of them. I was usually in control, and could stave off any pressure or stress.

This time, however, I fell.

It started, and I became aware of the month looming over me, a silent stalker. My time was being eaten up by pointless hours of revision, after which my mind couldnt welcome any more knowledge. This only got worse - and then March came. I was starting to draw closer to its peril.

I stood on the periphery of darkness for another month or so.

My first exam struck and it hit hard; inevitably I was submerged. There is no way of return once you have been absorbed, you just fall for what feels like infinity... Until August comes: you stop falling, but meet the results that send you to the floor. You failed.

I failed. I cant possibly do this all over again, if I even get the choice. Such tiny letters on a page stand between me and a chance to fulfil every dream Ive ever head. Im falling again, plummeting even. Ive tried to seek out others in my miserable state.

Ive wasted an opportunity, one that I probably never deserved in the first place.

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WHY?SAJJAD HOSSAIN

1. Why the people do not mind their own businesses?

2. Why the people are greedy?

3. Why my mom does not let me to see My Name Is Earl?

4. Why I cannot go back to the past?

5. Why the people snore? And why they have a nose?

6. Why some people do not do a shower?

7. Why the people of Southeast Asia eat the dogs?

8. Why I did not born rich?

9. Why there are too many languages in this world?

WRITE THE WRONG

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HAPPYSAJJAD HOSSAIN

Nothing is wrong if it makes you happy.

Something is wrong and you like it? May be others could say

it is not fair

it is not nice

Or they could complain about it.

But it does not matter:

the most important thing is that you are happy.

WRITE THE WRONG

10 QUESTIONSNUR HOSSAIN

1. Why people judge me?

2. Why I dont have unlimited money?

3. Why I cant fly on fly sky?

4. At the moment, why I cant stay outside in 3 oclock morning?

5. Why I cant see my future?

6. Why British houses attach with each other?

7. Why I awake every night for chatting with my friends?

8. Why people have to bathroom?

9. We are in this world why not on the moon?

10. Why I did not see Chinese people in the hospital?

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PANDEMICJAMILA MUTTLABE

The hate, killings, the genocide

Its like a virus that starts in the mind then sets the whole body offAnd like a virusit spreads through the whole body infecting person after person And like a virus it takes over the mind, body and soul And like a virusyou never realise you have it until its too late Until youre infected with the virus known as hate

Love, patience and respect are what you need to understand your fellow brothersAnd maybe, just maybe, you will be able to see the world through the eyes of othersBecause what you see is not fixed or a tragic demise It is what is wrong with the world and all its cries

So what is hate? Hate is what makes us call each other motherfucker, bitch, slag, faggot Hate makes men call females bitches Which in turn makes females call other females bitches Degrading, slut shaming, name callingSmearing womanhood down to its coreMaking them think its okay to call each other whore

Its the thing that spreads from one person to the other Making us think its okay to degrade each otherMaking men think that they are more masculineJust because someone else is more feminine They say gay is wrong and wrong is gay But they have a few of their own words to say They say they have not chosen to be this wayThat it is their way of life

Yet hate sits there holding a knife Threatening the words of anyone who dares go against him Because hate always has an excuse and hate always thinks hes right

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WRITE THE WRONG

So what is hate?Its like a virus that starts in the mind then sets the whole body offAnd like a virusit spreads through the whole body infecting person after person And like a virus it takes over the mind, body and soul And like a virusyou never realise you have it until its too late

Go back to your country, you dont belong here is what hate would say,Shooting words like arrows, and we are the targetWords meant to beat us down until our skin is raw and scarlet Determined to hit us where it really matters

But you know what? This is our country tooAnd we will stay here No matter what you say or doBecause we are oneWe will stick together like glue

So what is hate?Its the white person refusing to sit on that last seat on the bus because the person sitting next to them is blackOr a teacher consistently ignoring a student simply because she wears a hijab Or a black person saying white people are whats wrong with the world todayOr even a boy refusing to sit next to another boy in class because he is gay

Dont you see? Denial a common symptom of those who suffer from itHate is all around us, taking its victims without them even knowing itClaiming so many of gods finest creations Its like a virus which spreads through the nation Making us think bad of someone because theyre white, black, gay or Asian So theres one last thing I want to say: our condition will not change until we change ourselves and our way.

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WONDERING FROM THE START TO THE ENDFRANCESCA AMATO

Where are we from?

Why are we here?

Do we have a duty?

What is our place in the world?

Where are we going?

Do we have a destiny?

Are we born to be good or bad?

Do we have a soul?

Can we really change this world somehow?

Does what we do matter?

How big is the universe?

Are we alone?

How can we leave a trace of ourselves in the world?

Will I be remembered after my end?

Is there anything after this life?

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HEARTBREAKERICA FERNANDES

I thought we were siblings right?

How could he say that? There is always going to be heartbreak, no matter how you try to stop it, but I swear, I tried, I really tried.

We are friends - let me correct myself: we are siblings.

Andrea and I, we are the best friends ever. Everybody commented that it is impossible to have a real friendship between a girl and a boy.

Are you sure that you dont like him as a husband?

What? Never! I couldnt believe them. But now, I think they were correct. I like Andrea as a brother but why is my heart so disobedient? Why?

So: when he told me that, I really cried like I have never cried. Painful tears like I have never had before.

But my feelings for him were so confused, were so messed up, that I had to find out what he felt for me.

At the moment, I thought: Rebecca, can you calm down? Leave those feelings as they are. But I couldnt, I was not being loyal to myself.

It was 8pm when I called him.

Hey Andrea, are you okay?

Yes, what is wrong?

Oh nothing

Can you come over to my house? I need to talk to you.

Sure, but can you wait like 25 minutes, I am helping my brother with his homework.

Oh, no problem.

Okay bye!

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It was the longest 25 minutes of my life; I really thought to give up, but my heart wouldnt let me.

I was watching TV when I heard the bell ring.

Hi! Come, have a seat

Yes girl, whats up? Whats annoying you? Is it Michael again?

(Between those questions I felt important, important like oxygen for our life... ah ah ah joking. Lets go to the important bit!)

I want to talk to you about us, I said.

Us? What is wrong?

You know we dont have secrets... and I want to know... what you feel about me

Well, we are siblings

Yes but words? I said, rushing the conversation.

Kindness, brotherhood But what the hell is that question?

And I told him without thinking

I feel more than kindness, more than brotherhood! I like you in a different way

What do you mean?

Damnit, its so difficult to understand I love you! I was almost crying, and the I love you sounded out like an echo.

I thought we were siblings, right?

My head almost exploded, I was so embarrassed.

Let me go to sleep!

IMAGINED PEACEPRINCESS GERE

Imagine a world without war

Where men are brothers and not enemies. Countries are throwing one another gifts and not atomic bombs. Where there is love and not war. Where there is peace.

Now come back to reality.

What do you see? Do you see the horrors of mankind? Do you see the man that just got shot? The man who has just left a wife a widow. A man, who has just left his children fatherless.

Now tell me, would you prefer to go back to your imagination or face reality? Because peace is just a made-up place, an imagined paradise trapped in our head. If we dont do something, if we dont bring this made up peace into the world, it will forever be stuck there and nothing will change.

And soon there will be no one left no imagined peace wanting to come out. Dont you know the saying? A graveyard is the richest place on Earth; its where all hopes and dreams are buried. Its where this imagined peace will be buried along with our bones.

But not if we let this peace out and spread it across the world. Not if we try and stop these wars.

What are we even fighting for?


42

WRITE THE WRONG

LIVE, WRITE.CHLOE MILLER

Just do it she said, I said it worked for me

It opened my eyes and made me see

Made me read, made me succeed

I have what I want but Im not yet what I want to be.

Slow down, feel good,

Let the warm love in,

Let in the sound of silence,

Dont block it out with songs

That fill your ear with someone elses words.

Thats their way, thats OK,

But you pay your own way,

You dont know what you say,

You dont say what you feel,

You dont say whats real,

Real me is just from make-believe,

You took it from the TV,

You watch the world through a glass screen,

Your own one-way hijab.

You scorn those with nothing to say

As false prophets of false change,

Change yourself before you change the world,

Because charity starts in the home,

Sympathy is home grown,

The grown tree starts as a shoot,

The flower relies on the roots.

Deep change has to be radical in both ways.

43

44


WHEN YOU REALISEAMY LOCKE-DENCH

Getting what you want and

Thinking about how to get it.

Are you even allowed to have it?

In the eyes of some, that is a no.

The paths you will take,

The places you will go,

To see that your happiness is fulfilled.

Wrong or right, youll never know.

As you are blinded, deafened and dumbfounded,

This want of yours can only grow.

All of your crying you silently sounded,

Your passions will not leave you alone.

But once you get it, if ever,

Will you truly be happy?

You refuse to hear never

And will continue wanting.

Write the WrongFrom Readers & Writers -the literature outreach programme of English PEN

Edited by the students of NewVIc and Rebekah Murrell

English PEN is one of the UKs leading literature and free speech charities, based at the Free Word Centre in Farringdon, London.

We promote the freedom to write and the freedom to read. The founding centre of a worldwide writers association established in 1921, we are supported by our active membership of leading writers and literary professionals with an elected Board.

Our outreach programme develops the writing of young people, prisoners, refugees, asylum seekers and other socially excluded groups. We also run a full programme of public events and award prizes to outstanding British and international writers.

Support the work of English PEN find out more at www.englishpen.org

English PEN is a company limited by guarantee, number 5747142,and a registered charity, number 1125610.

JERMAINE AGYEI-BUROBEY

FRANCESCA AMATO

AYAH BENBERNA

ERICA FERNANDES

PRINCESS GERE

NUR HOSSAIN

SAJJAD HOSSAIN

AMY LOCKE-DENCH

CHLOE MILLER

JAMILA MUTTLABE

SUMAYA OMAR


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Write the Wrong

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