This is how we become
I don’t know what it feels like to be marginalised. I don’t know what its like to be look at sideways on the street. I haven’t lost my loved ones to war. But I do feel loss, and grief and sadness and I ache. As I type, there is a shootout in Mali’s capital, and a hostage situation. This will not garner a social media profile photo flag. This will not garner wall to wall media coverage. And that is just as painful as the grief and shock I feel for Paris and the unbelievable shock it has witnessed. A day before Paris, it was Beirut. Four people set out to blow up a popular shopping area of Beirut. Two managed to detonate their bombs, a third got caught in the blast before he could explode his and a fourth got caught my locals before he could do anything. They nearly lynched him. The police had to shoot into the air to make the crowd to disperse in order to arrest him. In the hospital a man screamed out to the camera: ‘We are Arabs, and we will never