Nazira

Contemporary artist seeking to explore the confluence of science and spirituality through the lens of geometry. #Sufi #Jedi

[Amir @AmirAminiMD]

He has had an emergency decompressive hemicraniectomy, left-sided, where the likely dominant brain side is damaged forever. He will probably never be able to speak again, and never be able to feel and move the right side of his body.
At his age, the reason for that is most likely a mass intracranial hemorrhage and swelling due to severe head trauma. He must have also spent a long time in a coma, hence the tracheostomy.

This is, without much room for doubt, the face of a tortured man who has barely survived an emergency procedure, which in normal circumstances would be extremely uncommon for someone his age - and whose quality of life has been reduced to almost zero forever.

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@JohnCleese Ahhhh. Rabid hateful gعnهcidع supporting monster. Easy to hate Muslims when you need to hide from having your name in the Epstein files eh? Carry on. You’re only exposing yourself!

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@georgegalloway Shall I tell you what values were shared with the west? Let’s start with usury! Absolutely forbidden in both Christianity and Islam. And it’s the Muslim communities efforts to extricate from this that is fundamental to the hatred aimed at them.

[David Miller @Tracking_Power]

This is an excellent summation of the UAE's involvement in Sudan, but misses the link with the Zionist entity, which is completely integrated in this Emirati colonial expansion project, and is underwriting it in the sense that the Zionist state has, since 2008, dominated both the UAE's critical national security infrastructure and its state ideology.

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@HCWsAC @gmcuk They have an agenda. This isn’t a hearing. This is a circus!

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@Rehiana1980 @DailyMail @gmcuk Any more updates Dr Rehania?

[Dr Rahmeh Aladwan @doctor_rahmeh]

Leaked—>The person who reported me to my medical board (@gmcuk) for my pro-Palestine activism is Dr. Justin Stebbing—previously suspended for mistreating cancer patients and for inappropriate conduct with a female patient.

Stebbing is a British jewish oncologist and cancer and COVID-19 treatment researcher at Imperial College London with a Harley Street private practice.

The accusations against Stebbing were:

· Providing unnecessary private treatment at the end of life to 12 patients
· Failing to discuss the benefits and risks of treatment
· Failing to maintain professional distance with a female patient, exchanging "flirty" emails where he called her 'Little Miss Trouble', with messages accompanied by kisses, "love to LMT," and "good LMT"

He initially denied 30 of the 36 charges against him and was found guilty on three further counts.

MPTS (@the_mpts) panel chair Ms. Margaret Obi called for his erasure from the medical register, stating he showed "persistent dishonesty" and no remorse.

Sharon Beattie, QC for the GMC, agreed and expressed concerns about an "ongoing risk" to patient safety due to his "persistent dishonesty," which he had attempted to cover up.

Yet he avoided being struck off.
Why?

· He argued that his work is invaluable
· Celebrities and scientists came to his defense
· The press (including the Daily Mail) supported him, calling him 'God'

The initial decision was a 12-month suspension, but it was shortened to 9 months.
Why?

Prof. Stebbing’s QC, Mary O’Rourke, argued that his dishonesty occurred during "one of the worst periods of his life" while he was suffering mental health problems.

She claimed Prof. Stebbing had not taken on the 12 patients "for money" but for the "greater good," adding that "he didn’t kill anybody."
-

This is the person who reported me and my public activism in support of Palestine and to end the genocide, initiating a second investigation in hopes of getting me struck off.

He accused me of being 'Anti-Semitic'.

This is jewish supremacy (zionism).
This is the double standard.
This is Britain.
https://t.co/gxslArd2Ow

https://t.co/fXaBh6eb9i

https://t.co/C05Y9Kqcwh

https://t.co/3DSKWjpyxL

[susan abulhawa | سوزان ابو الهوى @susanabulhawa]

how demonic and cruel zionists are.
how brightly his light shone.

[Barry Malone @malonebarry]

You know what? If you’re a Western journalist who hasn’t spoken up while more than 200 of your colleagues have been slaughtered then just keep Anas’s name out of your mouth. We’re not interested anymore. It’s too late.

[William Dalrymple @DalrympleWill]

The trade connections of ancient Gaza

It is often forgotten that Gaza was once the richest port in the Eastern Mediterranean, super wealthy from the export of Arabian incense and Indian spices...

From the exhibition Trésors sauvés de Gaza - 5000 ans d'histoire at L'Institut du Monde Arabe, Paris

[Barry Malone @malonebarry]

I think of these beautiful souls often.

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@piersmorgan @netanyahu And you enabled it you propagandist mouthpiece!

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

I swear to you. Before God. Before this wretched century. Before whatever last flicker of humanity may still remain in me, what I saw today was not life.

It was the collapse of everything that ever claimed to be sacred.

Once, Fridays in Gaza were holy.
Not because of tradition, but because they were tender.
A father would come home with fish, or perhaps a piece of chicken, and for one hour, we would eat like people.
We were poor, but not degraded.
We would smile across the table, thank God for a small plate of meat, and feel alive. We felt worthy of breath.

Even the poorest among us knew this dignity. They saved all week. They endured hunger not out of habit, but for hope. For that one day. That one meal.
That illusion of a normal life.

But now?

Today is Friday.

And I walked through the streets of Gaza, not to celebrate, not even to feed, but to hunt for rice.
Rotten rice.
Gray grains that stick to your fingers and taste like nothing.
Anything. Anything at all to fool the stomach into silence.

My brother searched one market. I searched another.
We returned with crumbs.
We paid with the last coins we had.
They ask for gold in exchange for ash.
And we pay it, because the children must eat, and because we no longer dare to say what is fair.

But I have not come to speak about rice.

I have come to confess what I saw.

A truck passed by.
It was empty.
Its floor was covered in a thin layer of flour dust. Just dust.
Not bags. Not bread. Only the trace of something that might once have saved a child.

And then I saw them.

Not rebels. Not criminals.
Children.

They ran, ran like hunted things, toward that truck. They climbed it with hands that have never held toys.
They fell to their knees as if before an altar.
And they began to scrape.

One had a broken lid.
Another, a piece of cardboard.
But the rest, the rest used their hands.
Their tongues.

They licked it.

Do you hear me?

They licked flour dust from rusted steel. From dirt. From the back of a truck that had already driven away.

One boy was laughing.
Not because he was happy, but because the body goes mad when it is starving.

Another was crying, quietly, like someone who no longer believes anyone is listening.

And I stood there.
With all my shame.
With my hands in my pockets, like a man waiting for a bus.
Like I wasn’t watching the end of the world.

I wanted to scream.
But what scream can reach Heaven, when Heaven itself is deaf?

What words can I offer?
What words can explain the sound of a child’s tongue scraping against rust for a taste of flour?

There are no metaphors left.
There is no beauty in this.
Only sin.
Only crime.
And we are all guilty.

You. Me.
The ones who sent the truck.
The ones who sent the planes.

And God?
If You are watching, then cry with us.
And if You are silent, then we are alone in this hell.

This is the twenty-first century.
But history has not moved forward.
It has swallowed its own children and called it progress.

I don’t want to write this.
I want to unsee it.
I want to forget the boy who licked the floor.

But I can’t.

Because I saw him.
Because he is real.
Because he is more real than all the words I’ve written.

And because if I forget him, then I am no longer human.

#GazaGenocide

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

We no longer have the strength to die for someone else’s ambitions.
And that, perhaps, is our last act of dignity.
To die for truth is sacred.
But to die for slogans, empty and ravenous slogans, is hell with a flag.

Two months ago, we ran.
But how does one describe the act of running when the ground beneath you no longer believes in your feet?
We did not run like men.
We fled like remnants, like pages torn from a holy book, scattered in the wind.
We carried no possessions.
Only memory and fear, which clung to our throats like rusted wire.

We left behind walls that once contained laughter.
A kettle. A child’s slipper.
The dent in the mattress where my father used to lie.
We left everything, because everything became nothing.

And then we waited.
Like beggars of fate, we watched the skies for signs, watched drone footage as if it were divine scripture.
And every glimpse of our neighborhood became an act of prayer.
Was that a roof? Was that our tree?
Is the balcony still there?

But two days ago, all that ended.
My uncle’s house, adjacent to ours, was bombed into the abyss.
There was no fire. No warning.
Just silence.
And then, dust.

He is 56 years old. A builder.
He spent thirty years in Israel, raising their towers by day and dreaming of his home by night.
He laid bricks. Slowly. Carefully.
As if building a house could save a soul.

Eight daughters. Eight.
Each born into rooms that no longer exist.
Two of them came back recently, after their own homes were devoured.
With children in their arms and bags that smelled of ash.
They returned not to a palace.
To a hallway. A roof. A man. A father.

Fifteen people lived under that roof.
Fifteen souls wrapped in the warmth of something we used to call “home.”
And now?
Now nothing.

Not even rubble. Rubble implies weight. This was absence. A hole in the world.

My uncle said something yesterday, something that should have shattered the sky: “If one of my daughters had died, it would have hurt less than losing the home that held them all.
To lose one is a wound.
But to see them all scattered like this…
It is death stretched across the living.”

I did not answer him. What could I say?
There are no words that respond to a man speaking from inside his own collapse.

He is not unique. That is the tragedy.
He is one of 1.5 million displaced people.
Not victims. No, victims still exist within some moral order.
We are relics of a forgotten logic.
We are the leftover calculations of a world that prefers us buried, but politely.

We don’t want much.
We want the smell of our kitchen walls.
We want the sound of slippers on tile.
We want to rest our heads on our own hunger.

But now, hunger is all that’s left.

And while we starve and grieve, a delegation sits in Doha, behind glass and air conditioning.
They argue. They delay. They refuse.
They say the ceasefire “does not meet the aspirations of Gaza.”

Do they know what we aspire to?

We do not aspire. We beg.

We beg for the war to stop.
We beg for silence to be silence again, not the silence of the dead, but the silence of peace.
We beg for the dignity of boredom.

But those who speak for us have never seen what we’ve seen.
They wear clean shirts.
They eat meat.
They sleep in beds.
Their children are not sleeping on cement.

They speak of resistance.
We speak of graveyards.
They claim to represent us.
We look at the sky and wonder who, if anyone, still hears us.

And we are tired.
Oh God, not in the body, but in the soul.
Tired like Job.
Tired like Christ before the cross.

So if you will not stop the war, then at least open the gates.
Let us wander barefoot into the wilderness, not as rebels or patriots or martyrs, but simply as the tired, those who could not bear another hour of pretending they had a country.

We are people.
We are fingernails and fever.

And we are dying.
Not for land.
Not for God.
Not for Hamas.
Not for Israel.
Not for your pride.

We are dying because no one will let us live.
#GazaGenocide

[Shysteee2018 @shysteee2018]

Remember all to tune in tonight Channel 4 and let’s see why the BBC decided to drop it

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@jk_rowling You mean like the occupying entity currently gعnهciding Palestinians? And entity whom you have actively supported and spoken up for, whilst utterly ignoring the women and children (specifically) who have been BUTCHERED by them? Yeah?

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@chrisbenriordan @aleximurdoch Why does there always need to be a backlash whenever someone is not white?

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@terrornerds Lena
May I ask where the screenshot is from? What document or statement?

[Nimer Sultany @NimerSultany]

Do yourself a favour and download @ForensicArchi 827 pages of evidence and analysis of Israel's genocide in Gaza. Amazing work.

A Cartography of Genocide
https://t.co/bSIhqN58tN

[Nazira @NaziraBibi]

@thetimes You want us to pay for propaganda?
No thanks
You belong in the gutter
What a dishonour to journalism