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JOHAR, Zubaidah

Memories of Rumoh Geudong II

Once he found out

My blood had been spilt in the rumoh geudong

He left without a sigh

Leaving his seed in my womb


Aceh, My Homeland

The untreated and unhealed wounds of women are rent again

in the process of the formalisation of Islamic law

Our womenfolk – who are still at the mercy of those champions

Who proclaim peace and

Spin prayers over their bodies

That they no longer own


Yes off we went like the wind

But our blood was still boiling in rage

What else could we do?

If we say too much our men will never come back

If we change our story there will be bloodshed

If we say nothing

they will still hunt down our men

Better to flee in silence

while taking the next steps to survive

(Is this your peace sir?)

Leer me te vergeten

Moeder, als jouw liefde er niet was dan

zouden mijn handen al nat en rood

zijn door de vergelding van de overal

verspreide wonden en de zielen die ons zijn


Mijn Vader, Moeder.

Moeder, als jouw gebeden er niet waren,

zou mijn hart al verloren zijn geraakt in de

zwarte stroom van de wraak op zoek naar

de brekende handen en de vertrappende

stappen. Moeder, leer mij, leer mij,

moeder, leer mij vergeten.

Vertaling: Dick VAN DER MEIJ

Geleng Rapa’i Geleng

Now we are trying to cleanse

The wounds of history with peace

Do not let the bloodshed begin again!

By the traces of war that never cease

By the unshed tears that have never been wiped away

By the blood that is still oozing

And by the pain of the still open wounds