“Αυτό το βραβείο δεν είναι μόνο για μένα. Είναι για εκείνα τα ξεχασμένα παιδιά που ζητούν μόρφωση. Είναι για εκείνα τα φοβισμένα παιδιά που θέλουν ειρήνη. Είναι για εκείνα τα παιδιά χωρίς φωνή που θέλουν αλλαγή” Malala Yousafzai

Μερικά ακόμη αποφθέγματα της Μαλάλα Γιουσαφζάι

«Υπάρχουν δύο δυνάμεις στον κόσμο: η μια είναι το σπαθί και η άλλη είναι το στυλό. Υπάρχει μια τρίτη δύναμη ισχυρότερη και από τις δύο, αυτή των γυναικών»

«Συνειδητοποιούμε τη σημασία των φωνών μας μόνο όταν μας επιβάλλουν την σιωπή»

«Αν οι άνθρωποι σώπαιναν, τίποτα δεν θα άλλαζε».

Here in Greece during this lock down situation, where most products and items for sale are available only through a click-away purchase process, bookstores have opened for the public during the holidays. Browsing through the shelves of bookshops this time seemed like a treat and I could not but think about how many small pleasures we tend to take for granted. Being in Athens during this second lockdown I got the chance to visit a few bookshops and in one of their children’s department I found a book that touched me and moved me to tears, and so I decided to mention it here today. The book, written by Rebecca Langston George and illustrated by Joanna Bock, is about Malala Yousafzai’s story, who at the age of seventeen received the Noble Prize for Peace after being shot three times for standing up for the right to an education for girls.

In brief, Malala was born in 1997 in Pakistan. She developed a thirst for knowledge early on through the influence of her family, and especially, her father, who was a passionate education advocate and wanted to give her the opportunities that boys had in their culture.  He also ran a school, so school and learning were a big part of Malala’s life since her toddler years.  However, in 2007, when she was ten years old, things changed dramatically for her family and community. The Taliban began to control the Swat Valley, where she lived. By the end of 2008 they had destroyed 400 schools. Girls were banned from attending school, and cultural activities like watching television were prohibited.

Malala remained determined to go to school believing strongly in her right to an education. Together with her father she stood up to the Taliban and in 2009 she started to blog anonymously on the Urdu language site of the BBC using the name “Gul Makai”. She was eleven years old when she wrote her first BBC diary entry titled “I am afraid,” where she described her fear of a war and of going to school. In May of 2009, Malala became an internally displaced person, after having been forced to leave her home and seek safety hundreds of miles away. On her return home, she used the media and continued her public campaign for her right to go to school, and over the course of the next three years, she and her father became known throughout Pakistan for their determination to give Pakistani girls access to a free education. Her activism resulted in a nomination for the International Children’s Peace Prize in 2011, and that same year, she was awarded Pakistan’s National Youth Peace Prize. But, not everyone was happy with her campaign to bring about change, and on October 9th in 2012, Malala was shot three times, by the Taliban, on the bus that was bringing her and her friends home from school. One of the bullets entered and exited her head and lodged in her shoulder. She was in a critical condition and four days later she was moved to an intensive care unit in Birmingham in England, where she was taken out of a medically induced coma.

Fortunately, even though she would require multiple surgeries, and repair of a facial nerve to fix the paralyzed left side of her face, she hadn’t suffered major brain damage. In March 2013 Malala began attending school in Birmingham and on July 12th on her 16th birthday, she visited New York and spoke at the United Nations. That same year she published her first book: “I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban”, and was awarded the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought by the European Parliament. In 2014, through the Malala Fund, the organization she co-founded with her father, Malala travelled to Jordan to meet Syrian refugees, to Kenya to meet young female students, and to northern Nigeria, where she spoke out in support of the abducted girls who were kidnapped earlier that year by a terrorist group, which tries to stop girls from going to school. In October 2014, Malala, along with Indian children’s rights activist Kailash Satyarthi, was named a Nobel Peace Prize winner. At age 17, she became the youngest person to receive this prize. Malala said: “This award is not just for me. It is for those forgotten children who want education. It is for those frightened children who want peace. It is for those voiceless children who want change.”

Reading the book brought up deep compassion  for this courageous girl and concern about whether she was well and what her life was like currently. I thought about her mother and her family and what it must have been like for them to see their young loved one been shot almost to death for simply desiring to learn and express herself. It is in these moments that we realise that even though we human creatures are capable of much horror, we also have the inherent capacity for unconditional love, concern and wishing well for people we have never met. We are not only wired to hopefully care about the safety and well being of our own sons and daughters, but those of others as well. It was good to learn that Malala has grown up to become an active proponent of “education as a fundamental social and economic right”, and through the Malala Fund, she empowers girls to achieve their potential and become agents of change in their communities. And this year she has completed her Philosophy, Politics and Economics degree at Oxford.

Final days of 2020 in Athens

little tree by e.e. cummings

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy…

In semi lock down….

“Margaret Atwood describes a similar process behind the genesis of The Handmaid’s Tale: a steady collecting of clippings, each real, all gradually coalescing into a pictureof rigidly enforced misogyny that wasn’t a figment of the future but obvious to her around the world, once she started to notice.”  Margaret Heffernan

Ι have run out of sketching paper. A small gouache pad has sort of come to my rescue. Sο, Ι am dabbling with water colours and pencils while continuing the maternal theme.

Meanwhile, in the background of my art making float extracts from Margaret Atwood’s 1986 book, The Handmaid’s Tale, which I am re-reading. On perspective she writes: “What I need is perspective. The illusion of depth, created by a frame, the arrangement of shapes on a flat surface. Perspective is necessary. Otherwise there are only two dimensions. Otherwise you live with your face squashed up against a wall, everything a huge foreground, of details, close-ups, hairs, the weave of the bedsheet, the molecules of the face. Your own skin like a map, a diagram of futility, criscrossed with tiny roads that lead nowhere. Otherwise you live in the moment. Which is not where I want to be.”  On the other hand, been fully in the moment could potentially become a more empowering place to be, even if, what is, is not what one might choose. Ιt provides a kind of freedom even in the context of the fundamentalist, totalitarian and deeply patriarchic society depicted in Atwood’s dystopia, where women are divided in functions and are punished, mutilated and killed for things like reading, expressing an opinion, breaching silence, forming friendships, and so on. If we look back in history and across the world it seems that there is not much in this unsettling fiction book that does not have some historic precedence. In her book, The Penelopiad, Atwood writes that water too lacks the solidity of a wall. She says: “Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”