A child should never die
I want to howl, to scream, to shake the universe

A child should never die
Holding myself back
To settle storms in my head
No Hisham, that won’t happen to you
Stay next to your sister
Ask her to tell you a story
Don’t worry my love
You’re gonna be safe
But I know it’s a lie

Trying to balance what’s coming from my mouth
And what’s inside my head
Balance my feelings and my patience
My strength and my internal collapse
Trying to balance
In an imbalanced world

It’s not what a 10-year-old should ask
A child should never die
A child should play, laugh, giggle
Call mom to make breakfast
Throw himself into grandfather’s arms
And live
A child should never die

Bombs hiss as they fall over Gaza
“Flatten the city!”
“Wipe them out!”
“Starve them and kill them all!”
1,000 deaths
2,000 deaths
5,000 deaths
10,000 deaths

A child trembles on the hospital floor
A doctor says, “Another case
Wounded child, no surviving family
Someone hold him, talk to him”
The child still trembles
I want to howl, to scream, to shake the universe
A child should never die

They say, “It’s complicated”
“You should know the context”
“Read history before taking to the streets calling for Våbenhvile Nu” (Ceasefire Now)
“Human shields”
“Collateral damage”
“This is war, and war is ugly”
“What do you expect?”
But a child should never die

And what of context?
When a child talks about death, there is no context
When a child dies from cold, there is no context
When a baby is starved, there is no context
There is a point where context stops

Drowning in my thoughts
His voice interrupted me again
Uncle, uncle, I want to tell you something
Today we went out to play
The F-16’s flew over and made their noise as usual
But we were not afraid
We waved our hands
We waved our hands and kept playing

A child should live
A child should grow up
A child should sing, should dance, should sleep peacefully at night

Never, never
A child should never die

Mentor’s note:  On Jan. 31, 2024, some of Denmark’s biggest names in hip-hop gathered on stage for the ‘Fra Aarhus Til Gaza’ (From Aarhus to Gaza) concert. The intention was to send a powerful message of unity and compassion with the people of Palestine, with proceeds from ticket sales going directly to the victims of Gaza. Salah Eleyan is from northern Gaza and a writer with We Are Not Numbers.  He is currently studying in Aarhus and was invited to be the opening speaker at the concert. His poem focuses on an exchange he had with his nephew Hisham during a phone call to Gaza. The 10-year-old had become almost numb to the indiscriminate death around him. Instead his fears fell elsewhere. “Uncle Salah, I can accept death, but I can’t bear to be trapped under rubble. What’s it like? Is it painful?”