The Writers' Assembly

I found many similarities, even though our stories are very different, because there is one factor we share: in this part of the world, we were not foreseen.Yet we were able to move beyond this, in part through writing.I wanted to ask if any of you have had a similar experience.Have you felt this same sense of negation?And if so, when did you find the words to describe the invisibility that, in some way, we were expected to accept?Shirin Ramzanali Fazel: I would like to start, because something struck me when you said "we weren't foreseen."For me, it was different.I believed I belonged in Italy, that I was foreseen.After all, it was Italy that came to us.In Somalia, where I was born and raised, during the Italian Trust Administration, there were no strict boundaries between Italian and Somali culture.The same was true for food, music, theater, schools, basically everything.Living in Italy, I felt I was foreseen, I was recognized not as a "white Italian," but people knew who I was.That is why it was such a shock when others failed to recognize me, not as a person, but in terms of where I came from and the fact that I spoke Italian.Some genuinely believed that in Somalia we wore skirts made of straw.They would even ask, "Do you have cars there?"From that moment on, it felt like a slap in the face, both morally and physically.I was eighteen at the time, an age when insecurity is already strong.I tried to suppress those feelings and look like others, simply to feel less invisible.It took a long time to move past that.In fact, I no longer wanted to stay in Italy.I wanted to leave and find a place where I wouldn't be bothered or seen as different.Yet the Italian language remains a part of me.It has no borders; for me, it carries no nationalist ties.This is a hurdle we all face, often painfully.I think it is somewhat the same for everyone, for those born here, those who moved here, or those who lived here for a long time.Over time, you fall in love with the language, and it becomes part of your existence.Yet you are always an "intruder."Since I started wearing a headscarf, I feel like a "double intruder" because of Islam.It's no longer only about the color of your skin, it becomes another taboo.I want to keep this brief, because there are many voices here, and I want to give space to my fellow writers.I am happy to be here with all of you, and I am grateful that this space exists

Feeling · Invisibility · Silence · Somali · Autobiographical and Biographical Writing · Poetry Analysis and Criticism · Short Stories in Global Literature