Mr Aidroos said he had helped tackle and detain the driver while other witnesses said an imam stepped in to ensure the man was not harmed.”We found that a group of people quickly started to collect around him, around the assailant and some tried to hit him either with kicks or punches,” imam Mohammed Mahmoud said.”By God’s grace we managed to surround him and to protect him from any harm.”One official said the Muslim cleric’s “bravery and courage” possibly saved the man’s life.
I want to assure Londoners that this attack will in no way distract from other urgent work the police and emergency services are currently dealing with – including the vital recovery work at Grenfell Tower, the efforts to support the victims and local community in Kensington and the vital work ensuring we get justice. Like the terrible attacks in Westminster, London Bridge and in Manchester, the attack in Finsbury Park is an attack on us all – our shared values of tolerance, freedom and respect. We must crack down on extremism of all types – whether the twisted ideology of Islamist terrorism, or other forms of extremism.
Donald Trump mocked Mayor Sadig Khan b/c he is Muslim. No other reason. He also attacked a Gold Star family, Khizr & Ghazala Khan, who lost their son in the Iraq war. What kind of monster insults & mocks a friend who has suffered a horrible tragedy? When you’ve had no home training & been an ignorant bully all of your life, then it’s no surprise what the ignoramus did to people in the UK & the Khans. If someone mocked, insulted & piled on to my pain after I’ve suffered a tragedy, I’d cut them off for good. I hope you’re listening, UK? Cancel the visit.
“Creí que seria algún conocido, voltié a mirarlo con toda la inocencia del mundo para intercambiar alguna mirada a modo de saludo cuando de pronto una piña en el ojo (la cuál me lo dejo así), me deja sentado. ‘Este es puto, vamos a fajarlo’. Ahí nomás traté de pararme y salir corriendo cuando otro de los pibes me agarró de la mochila, me empujó para atrás y c on el mismo impulso le pegué un cabezazo en la boca y le rompí un diente. Ahí la cosa se puso seria”.“Ya de nuevo en el piso me pegan una patada en la panza, yo le pateo la pierna, lo tiro y con mi celular lo golpeo de nuevo en la boca. Ahí el que estaba parado me levanta de los pelos y me dijo “De acá no salís, te vamos a matar”. Lo miré y le escupí la cara. Me tira al piso y me empezaron a patear entre los tres. De la nada bajó un chabón de un auto con un palo y dijo “o la cortan o los cago a palos a todos”. Se empezó a acercar le revoleó un palazo a uno y se fueron corriendo”.Más tarde habló con los medios locales. “Opino que son tristes. Y desalentadores, que te hacen tener miedo”, dijo. “Pero que tanto odio es al pedo. Podrán pegarme todo lo quieran, pero no voy a dejar de ser gay.”
Of course, it’s 2017, so we see a lot more demands for rapists to be punished harshly and for CCTV cameras to be installed everywhere, but what use is any of that if people still carry the assumption that rape is something that the victim and those associated with her should be ashamed of, or that tarnishes their “reputation” by association? That school can stick it’s reputation where the sun doesn’t shine, and since we’re being facetious, let’s just say that it’s very likely that this child and every child is better off in any school but this one.
The death of my brother made me think. I thought more and more deeply about the reasons behind terrorism, which took him and his family away from us. I reasoned with myself to find if there could really be a purpose their death served. And there wasn’t. It did not serve any purpose. It is not justifiable under any circumstances. In the same way yesterday’s carnage is entirely unjustifiable. It’s systematic madness. And this systematic madness is used to send us a message, a message of fear and hate. I reacted to my brother’s death by not giving in to the culture of fear and hate peddled by extremists. I wept not only for the loss of my brother and his family but I also wept for the perpetrators, because their death was also a senseless loss of life.
To avert one’s eyes from the occupation is to cooperate with the wicked regime. To yield before violence is to strengthen it. To remain silent before racism is to legitimize it. To surrender to fear and intimidation is to accept this dark reality, allowing it to continue and intensify.Each day that goes by without resistance is another day of deteriorating democracy. Each day that goes by without a struggle is another day of violence against Palestinian children. Each day that goes by without solidarity is another day in which racism and nationalism trump morality and justice.Each day that goes by in which we neglect to merge our society’s tremendous forces — of all colors, ethnicities, and organizations — is another day which strengthens the violent nationalist occupying regime’s belief that nothing can stop it, and that they can carry on with their nationalist project of the occupation undisturbed. That they can continue to destroy, to injure, to harm, to kill.
Rebecca A.Ethiopia – USA35, ATTORNEY BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
I was born in Ethiopia and remember having most of my mother’s family close by as I grew. Some aunts and uncles were already in the US, specifically to further their studies, and my sister (the only one I have) went on a trip with my grandparents to visit those aunties and uncles in Boston. Unfortunately, or fortunately as it were, my sister had an accident that brought her under the scrutiny of specialist doctors who diagnosed her with scoliosis. She needed surgery and so she, along with my grandparents, stayed longer than expected to find her medical care.At the same time, my parents were more directly feeling the repression of the current authoritarian regime in Ethiopia. It was 1986 and Mengistu Hailemariam was in power then. My father was most targeted and suffered through detention before it was decided that we could no longer stay there with out risking further harm. My mother and I left my father and traveled to Boston on our own. There, we were met by my sister, whom I hadn’t seen in what seemed to my 5 year old self as years. We lived with my mother’s parents and her brother and sister for a couple of years until my father was finally able to travel and join us. Since the my parents have worked on creating a new life for themselves. My father worked various jobs: cashier, taxi driver, security guard and my mother did the same (except for the driving part, she has always been a nervous driver). And my sister and I grew up in the US. Somewhat local, but the feeling that we were foreign or different ever present in our lives. I spoke to my mother right after the Executive Order banning Muslim travel came into effect. She lamented how she thought she had left a place like this. She was sad that she now has to encounter a world order that she was much too familiar with 30 years ago; a repressive and discriminatory government that she desperately needed to escape, but somehow has followed her still.Why did your family come to the United States?My family came to the United States to escape government persecution and repression.What would the U.S. be missing out on if you or your people were banned?A family who doesn’t feel like the holiday season has started until they have seen Die Hard at least 3 times. A mother and father who regularly help with their weekly church service. Two young black sisters who watch Seinfeld still and feel it resonate in their lives.
#BanThis is a personal response to a personal issue. #BanThis is a dare. A call to action. A claim of what is ours.
As I chanted “No Trump. No KKK. No Fascist USA,” I looked into the faces of the marchers around me, and I got my answer: Americans are not accustomed to this. Most of these hundreds of thousands of people had probably never been to a protest before, and never marched with their children and their parents and screamed at the top of their lungs in the middle of a metropolitan road. This was their first time, their introduction to taking the streets. What I assumed was a lack of passion turned out to be something equally important: a first step. The million people: women, men, children, and allies who marched on Washington, did not have the experience of fighting against overt oppression, but they knew they needed to show up; they knew they must be united in the face of a new era that will have them fight for the rights they have long taken for granted. On this day, the American Woman showed up, she rose to the occasion, and though she was hesitant, she was determined.We arrived at the White House, filling the National Mall with pink pussy hats and chants of “my body, my rights”, and made our presence known. Soon after people started to scatter, but for the rest of the day, one could not go anywhere without running into someone with a sign or a pussy hat. This may not be the desperate protest that started a revolution against a Middle Eastern dictatorship, but it is the American woman beginning her fight. The movement has begun.