I am someone who normally avoids the news because so much of it feels like a drain on peace and spirit. But sometimes I check in—to stay connected to the world I live in, to the people whose lives intersect with mine through our shared humanity. And witnessing people’s helplessness—and feeling my own—is one of the most devastating experiences a human heart can carry.
Even when we cannot physically be there, we can be present in other ways—through our voice, through peaceful protests, boycotts, and solidarity campaigns that call for justice and accountability. Sometimes, God hears even the silent prayers of those who long to serve. And then came an opportunity that changed the way I saw my own voice.
From Observer to Witness: My Role in the Global Sumud Flotilla Awareness Event
I met four remarkable individuals—Thiago Ávila, Saif Abukeshek, Muhammad Nadir Al-Nuri, and Kleoniki Alexopoulou—who are key role players in the Global Sumud Flotilla initiative. Through them, and through the opportunity entrusted to me by VOICE,MV, I found myself representing International Aid Campaign in the Maldives—not merely as a host, but as a messenger of awareness and conscience.
Hosting that show was simple in task—but far from simple in spirit. I have stood on many stages before, comfortable in my confidence and rhythm. Yet this was different. As I interviewed these courageous individuals—listening to their accounts of harrowing scenes, loss, and unwavering resilience—I felt transported into their lived reality. For the first time, I lost words. I went blank. I even stuttered. Not because I did not know how to host, but because the weight of reality was unshakable.
To speak about saving lives while listening to stories of being shot at, surviving bombings, and choosing to stand amid rubble—it is more than courage. It is defiance against despair. It is a profound act of faith in humanity itself. When people choose solidarity over silence, when they choose to witness rather than avert their gaze—that is sumud in action.
What this experience also revealed to me—particularly through my conversations with Azhad Ahmed from International Aid Campaign—is that Palestine is not the only place where humanity is being tested. Through his sharing and insights from humanitarian spaces, I became more aware that suffering extends far beyond a single geography. Communities continue to endure war, occupation, displacement, and systemic violence in Yemen, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Sudan, Somalia, and Libya. Beyond these, oppressed communities such as the Rohingya in Myanmar, Muslims in China’s Xinjiang region, civilians in Ethiopia, and families living under prolonged militarisation in Kashmir continue to suffer—often in silence, often without sustained global attention. This understanding reminded me that solidarity cannot be selective. If we claim to stand for humanity, our conscience must extend beyond borders, identities, and headlines.
What Is “Sumud”?
Sumud (صُمُود) is an Arabic word meaning steadfastness, resilience, perseverance—a value deeply rooted in Palestinian identity and resistance. It speaks not just of survival, but of persistence in the face of oppression, a refusal to yield, a rootedness that transcends fear.
In the Palestinian context, sumud has evolved from a cultural strategy of maintaining presence on the land to a broader symbol of resilience—a reminder that people can endure and resist even the most extreme adversity.
The Global Sumud Flotilla: A Movement of Humanity
The Global Sumud Flotilla is an unprecedented, civil-society-led maritime movement that emerged in mid-2025. Its purpose is both practical and moral: to challenge the naval blockade of the Gaza Strip by delivering humanitarian aid, while asserting people-powered solidarity with civilians living under prolonged siege. It represents a collective refusal to accept suffering as inevitable and silence as normal.
The flotilla consists of more than 40–50 civilian vessels carrying humanitarian aid, medical supplies, and peaceful activists. Those aboard are not professional combatants or state representatives; they are activists, doctors, artists, and everyday people from over 44 countries who chose to act rather than look away. Their shared mission is clear—to break the blockade, deliver aid, and establish a people-led humanitarian corridor grounded in the spirit of sumud, or steadfastness. Setting sail from multiple Mediterranean ports between August and September 2025, the flotilla marked the largest coordinated civilian maritime action ever undertaken in solidarity with Gaza.
The Global Sumud Flotilla is far more than a convoy of ships. It stands as a symbolic challenge to injustice and a call to the global conscience. It is a peaceful assertion that human dignity cannot be silenced by borders, blockades, or force. Above all, it is the collective voice of ordinary people who refuse to stand idly by while entire populations are subjected to suffering and erasure.
The journey was not without resistance. Some vessels were intercepted at sea, activists were detained, and hostile encounters were reported during the voyage. Yet the movement did not retreat. Instead, it persisted—unbowed and unwavering—demonstrating that solidarity is not measured by ease, but by endurance in the face of opposition.
To understand why initiatives like the Sumud Flotilla matter, we must confront the human reality behind the headlines. Since the escalation of the conflict on 7 October 2023, the ongoing war in Gaza and Palestine has had catastrophic consequences. More than 67,000 Palestinians have been killed, with many times that number wounded—women and children forming a significant proportion of the victims. Tens of thousands more have been displaced, essential infrastructure has been destroyed, and access to basic necessities such as food, water, and medical care has been severely restricted. These are not abstract figures. They represent lives erased, families torn apart, and futures left unfinished.
A Psychological Perspective: Bearing Witness and Collective Trauma
Exposure to such immense suffering triggers profound psychological responses. Vicarious trauma emerges when we empathise deeply with the pain of others, leaving emotional residues such as grief, numbness, helplessness, or paralysis. Over time, repeated exposure can lead to compassion fatigue, where emotional resources are depleted, and withdrawal feels like self-protection. Yet there is another response—meaning-making. Acts of solidarity, speaking out, peaceful protest, and humanitarian support can transform pain into purpose and helplessness into action.
When I sat in that interview and found myself momentarily lost for words, it was a form of emotional embodiment—a psychological signal that this reality was not distant or theoretical. It was real, and it mattered. In that moment, I was not just a host. I was a human being bearing witness.
We may not be able to stand on the ground in Gaza, and many of us may feel powerless in the face of such overwhelming suffering. Yet speaking out amplifies voices that are systematically silenced. Non-violent solidarity draws global attention to the human cost of conflict. Awareness campaigns create pressure for accountability and humanitarian change. Sometimes, the quietest prayers—spoken from the depth of a grieving heart—are the ones God hears first.
In Solidarity, With Hope
Meeting the flotilla activists reminded me that courage is contagious. Even when hope feels fragile, it flickers into existence through collective action. Standing in solidarity—especially with the most vulnerable—is one of the purest expressions of humanity. Above all, this experience reaffirmed a simple truth: saying yes to opportunities, even when they frighten us, can lead to the most profound transformations of heart, purpose, and responsibility.
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