A clear night in the liberated zone and the stars as numberless as the grains of sand on the ground.
Staring out into the night I see the lights of Smara glowing in the darkness far away with the luminescence of life of the people that live there.
Families, eating together or sleeping, talking and reading.
I Imagine them, so near to me and yet so far away.
For between us is the Wall that has split our families for 30 years.
The stone and sand, the mines and barbed wire, the soldiers and guns – all reminders of what we’ve lost and how far we are from where we should be.
On nights like this it is the most painful time when you could almost believe that you could walk home out of the desert towards those lights and to the families you’ve left behind.
But it might as well be another world – for all its seeming tangibility it is occupied – waiting to be free.
And so we wait as well, in the liberated zone, in the camps for our return – for our freedom.
We wait to see our families again but all we can see of them now are the lights of Smara.
About the Author
Fred is a Law student at Nottingham University in the UK and he is studying Human Rights. He likes to use poetry to express his feelings about different situations in the world and Western Sahara is one of them. He believes and supports the Saharawi people right to self-determination. He also think that the Saharawi culture should be celebrated and affirmed.