Letter to Santa
When you arrive on Christmas Eve could you please bring back our dreams that have been stolen
that became ashes under fire
The roof of our house
The smell of Mum and Dad
Why they left me without goodbye
there was a green garden, a Ferris wheel,
ice cream vans
shadow of lovers
Nothing left for us ...
only the stench of death
Santa - how you can find the smile of childhood
that has been buried underground
without a funeral
without a farewell.
Please Santa take back your precious gifts and give me back only my home and peace.
sorry that your children are now not here any more
your children have become men in wartime
and their toys are guns and their ecstasy is the smell of gunpowder.
About the author
Malka Al-Haddad is an Iraqi academic who has lived in Britain since 2012. She is a member of the Union of Iraqi Writers, Director of the Women's Centre for Arts and Culture in Iraq, and an activist with Leicester City of Sanctuary.