Nayma Chamchoun
Nayma is a British Moroccan, self-taught writer and poet. Her writing is influenced by her cultural duality. She is interested in female voices in the diaspora community, the challenges they face within both communities and the taboos around mental health within their ancestral communities.
Nayma sent her poem to www.poetladykatz and I am delighted to feature it today. It is a tribute to the ways in which we may reach out to others and make the world a better place.

In the rooms where we make parcels.
Stacked up tins and non-perishables.
When the virus has hit hard and morale is scarred
We struggle to hold all our marbles.

Tailored bags, veggie or meat eater.
Selecting each item with loving care.
Feeding the families without a prayer
in the house of the stain-glass eyed mitre.

My ties with Islamic culture,
Cater to the tastes of the ummah
in accordance with their sunnah.
Dignity beneath the vultures.

Gluten free treats for the children.
A chocolate for mum
to sweeten the glum.
Community alms in the temple den.

Plant based milk for the vegans.
Generous with pulses and pasta.
Queues at the door as we pack faster.
The dejected flocking to the subsistence haven.

The excitement of something nice.
M & S biscuits or a Waitrose dessert.
The priceless small pick me ups we insert.
A leg up for basic human rights.

Outside the lofty rose window
a clattering of jackdaws noisily caw.
Premade bundles conceal the storeroom floor.
Misfortune offers no furlough.

Protein for the meat eaters,
Beef curry or steak and kidney pie.
Taste the orient, a chicken Pad Thai.
Ignored by carnivorous leaders.

A fairy cake, home baking kit
for quality time with the family.
Amid poverty, making memories.
The smell of baking embalming the kids.

Those already acquainted with nothing
and those who have lost it all
filing into the hallowed hall.
The hurt of the broken calls,
sometimes, thankful and others, biting.

Each of us, one pay check away from destitution.
There but for the grace of God…
The God with a punishing rod.
Party politics offers no divine restitution.

Leave a Reply