🌍 To the Only Competitors on This Planet
Being Kurdish
means surviving exile with poetry in your veins,
dreaming in a language they tried to erase,
and standing tall where no flag was ever flown.
But this isn’t just our story.
Basque voices echo in mountain winds,
the Tamils sing in fire,
the Sámi glide through snow with ancient breath,
and the Assyrians carry whole civilizations in their silence.
The Amazigh carve resistance into stone.
Tibetans pray while the world forgets their name.
And in the forests of the Urals,
the Udmurt people still hum songs no empire could smother.
Yazidis remember their gods in broken temples.
Baloch carry borders in their bones.
The Rohingya search for home with nowhere left to turn.
Chechens remember what it means to burn and rebuild.
Abkhazians speak in contested valleys.
The Romani sing across continents, yet belong nowhere.
And across the southern oceans,
the First Nations of Australia walk barefoot on stolen land,
carrying stories in the soil,
and ancestors in every wind.
We are not forgotten.
We are not lost.
We are not voiceless.
We are the blueprint.
We are the contradiction.
We are the ones whose existence is resistance.
They say the world is a race.
But we ran before they built tracks.
We endured before they wrote rules.
We are not part of the competition.
We are the reason it exists.
Because being stateless,
being displaced,
being ancestral without apology,
makes us
the only competitors
on this planet.